Pigeonpaw's Moonstone Journey

It was entirely too early to be awake as Beechface reluctantly pieced together two bundles of traveling herbs. If she had any strength to argue she would have refused taking apprentices to the moonstone at all, the journey long since becoming truly pointless in her eyes. If Wolfstar and Bloodstrike were so adamant that this tradition be followed, they were more than welcome to make the journey with each apprentice themselves.

He arguments were met with unyielding stubbornness however, and so the ragged medicine cat reluctantly padded from her den, heavy paws moving towards the apprentice den.

"Pigeonpaw, time to get up." Beechface called into the den. She retreated a few steps to wait for the fluffy apprentice, eating her portion of the traveling herbs. When Pigeonpaw made his way out of the den, she slid the second bundle towards him with a tired, if somewhat sympathetic glance. "They're bitter and there's not much I can do about the taste. They'll keep you from getting hungry and will keep your strength up, though.squared"

Once the tom had eaten the required herbs, Beechface turned to lead him out of camp. She had little to really say, though the offer to wash the taste of the herbs out of his mouth went unspoken as the medicine cat came to a stop at the creek. Once Pigeonpaw did, or didn't, she continued on without much of an explanation. If he wanted to ask her questions about starclan... Beechface didn't think she was capable of giving an answer that wasn't colored by bitterness.

The tom had already been half-awake when Beechface called in to him, wondering if it was still too early to wake Mountainheart for training. He lifted his head, ears flicking towards the sound, and immediately got to his paws and picked around the other sleeping apprentices until he was standing in the entrance of the den. He'd heard from others that they had visited the Moonstone as apprentices, and that each apprentice had to before they became a warrior, but Pigeonpaw had no idea that he would be next, that it would be so soon.

He listened to Beechface explain the importance of the herbs, and then swallowed them down with no complaint. They were bitter, enough to make his eyes water almost, but he suffered in silence and then followed the medicine cat out of the camp. The stream was a relief to see, and the tabby tom quickly, with a murmur of thanks, quenched his thirst, along with washing that awful taste away, and then turned to follow again as Beechface left without a word.

They traveled for what felt like ages. Pigeonpaw was reluctant to break the silence... after all, Beechface seemed so... so upset. What if she didn't want to talk to him? What if she thought that his rogue-born roots made him less of a SkyClanner than the clan-born kits, were, and that she was wasting her time dragging him here. What if StarClan thought that, too, and didn't talk to him at all?

Troubled, the little tabby tom's eyes were on his paws, until he glanced up at Beechface and saw just, pure exhaustion. He touched his nose to her flank, gently, when they paused for a moment, and asked, "Are you okay?"

Beechface kept an almost plodding pace as she led the apprentice towards the moonstone. Her paws seemed to feel heavier with each step that brought them closer to Starclan's domain, and once more she wondered why she even bothered.

Pigeonpaw's nose touched her side, and Beechface blinked, glancing down at the shorter apprentice.

"I-" She began, then paused, wearily shaking her head. "No." It would be pointless to lie when Pigeonpaw had already noticed.

"There's... A lot going on, and making the journey to the moonstone seems frivolous. We both have better things we could be doing." She sighed, continuing to walk once more.

"Mountainheart is your mentor, right? How's training been?"

Pigeonpaw tilted his head, ears slicking back in concern. If SkyClan's own medicine cat thought that this was a waste of time, why were they doing it? A troubled frown played at the young tom's lips. "Well... you still believe in StarClan, right?" he asked gently, resuming their slow pace. "You're just... mad..? at them right now?"

Her question swiftly distracted him, and Pigeonpaw scuffed a paw against the ground. "It's... going," he said with a slight grimace. "She taught me how to swim, and... tried to teach me to catch fish, but I'm not very good at it."

'Well... You still believe in Starclan, right?' Did she still believe in them? It was a question that Beechface had pondered more and more as of late, and she felt like the answer was no longer clear. She believed they existed, for that much they had proven over and over... But Beechface wasn't sure she believed in them. "It's complicated." She mewed eventually, "I'd rather focus on the living, and taking care of what's in front of me." Appeasing the dead and following tradition were unimportant compared to that.

"She tried... teaching you to swim? And catch fish?" Beechface asked. Despite her current mood, her whiskers twitched. "That... Sounds like Mountainheart. She's a good cat, but I wonder how badly being raised by Riverclan messed with her sensibilities." And Dawnhawk, and Featherkit... But that didn't need to be brought into the conversation. "I suppose it's easier for her to teach what she's more familiar with. She hasn't been back in Skyclan all that long. Still... We aren't a clan that has much use for the river, nor fish. Ashstorm, Juniperlight and Ravenclaw are some of our finest hunters, Primroselight too, though she mostly keeps to the ground." She didn't outright say it, but the suggestion of patrolling with the older warriors and learning from them was there, if he hadn't already done so on his own.

The suggested to train with some other warriors didn't go unnoticed by Pigeonpaw, and though he knew that Beechface meant well, he still found himself wanting to defend Mountainheart. His mentor had done a good job of teaching him so far, even if it wasn't the more... traditional skyClan values. His feathery tail flicked once, and he glanced upwards with a small smile. Mountainheart was a good teacher, she'd gotten him this far, at least. "I have done my best to make sure my training is varied," he assured her, and it was the truth. "SkyClan saved my mother, and took us in... I intend to repay the Clan as best I can."

Together they made their way across the territories in a companionable silence, until finally the Mothermouth loomed ahead of them. Pigeonpaw had never been here before, obviously, but he knee the importance of this place from everything he'd been told, and the sight of it was enough to stop him in his tracks, fur prickling with a mixture of awe and caution.

"You and your siblings have done well, Pigeonpaw." Beechface reassured him, tone about as gentle as it ever got. Saving Sapphire had been the right choice. She was an outsider, but she bolstered Skyclan's numbers and helped where she could despite not being a warrior herself. And her kits had all done worked hard.

By the time they reached mothermouth, the sun was low in the sky. Beechface allowed the two a moment to rest, eyes half-lidded as she pondered the conversation from earlier. With a shake of her head, the long-furred medicine cat stood, glancing towards Pigeonpaw.

"Alright... The tunnels are dark, you won't be able to see at all until we're near the moonstone itself, so use your whiskers to help navigate. Grab my tail if you need to. Once we get to the moonstone itself, press your nose to it and lay down. Starclan will visit you in your dreams." She couldn't guarantee that Starclan would have anything useful to offer the apprentice, but they were here for a reason. "Ready?" She asked, waiting a moment for him to confirm before turning towards the gaping blackness that was mothermouth. Where many apprentices might have felt awe or a sense of trepidation, to be so close to the moonstone, Beechface felt resignation. With a sigh, she padded forward, leading Pigeonpaw down the familiar, well-worn path of darkness.

Eventually he would be able to make out the vague outline of her in front of him, and then it wouldn't be long til they reached the moonstone itself. Once they did, Beechface stepped to the side, allowing the tom a moment before she gently nudged him toward the stone.

"I'm ready," he whispered, swallowing past a lump of nervousness in his throat. What would he say? What could one say to the ghosts of warrior past, when he didn't share their blood? Pigeonpaw tucked his tail slightly, but he obediently followed Beechface into the mouth of the cave, his whiskers just a hair behind the tip of her fluffy tail the entire way.

When they arrived truly, the apprentice marveled at the stone, and as instructed, he lay down and touched his nose to it, almost immediately drifting off to sleep.

"Happy to see your paws have made it here, Pigeonpaw." A little tom sat in a tiny clearing. Encircling the clearing were scraggly and sparse bushes, reaching desperately for the stray beams of sunlight that managed to peer through the treetops. This place was reminiscent of Skyclan territory, except for the way every surface seemed to be bathed in shimmering speckles. It was as if the stars of silverpelt had come down from above to coat the territory in their dazzling gleam.

In a similar manner, the black and white Starclan cat who was before Pigeonpaw wore a warm smile across his maw. His head tipped in place of the whisk of a tail, calling forward the apprentice. This action made the lack of a tail on his rump painfully obvious. Such a strange creature he seemed, rather unwarriorlike with his unimposing frame and more reserved demeanor. And the matter of his tail... it seemed to have simply never existed at all. Regardless, he bore light markings of battles from another time. Even such a creature as he had fought in the forest below.

"My name is Mumblefoot. I once was a warrior of Skyclan myself many moons ago. I'm assuming you've come here for some wisdom or guidance as all apprentices do. But before I tell you what I have to say, is there anything that you wish to ask?" As Mumblefoot spoke, the warm and clear timbre of his voice became more obvious. Of course, his core personality had not changed by walking with the stars. His stuttering over words and fearfulness had been something he'd worked to overcome in life. Moons in the afterlife had left him reminiscing on life in the forest, how he used to be, and the ability to aid young cats now brought him a sense of pride and joy.