Otterpaw's Moonstone Journey

And one more, sure. She'd been determined to spend as much time in camp as she could before Basilbloom summoned the medicine cats to Twolegplace, but when Ashflight said Otterpaw was ready, Cloverheart couldn't find it in herself to make Turtlefur's son wait. Or his late mother's son, whichever. Tail flicking and with a grimace from the taste of herbs– she never felt like she'd get used to them, no matter how often she had them –she picked up the wrap she'd made for Otterpaw and made her way to the apprentice's den. Finding the tom in question was easy, and she gave his shoulder a gentle prod, setting the herbs down near his nose. "Wake up, Otterpaw. It's time to go to Highstones," Cloverheart chirped, grinning. It helped to get apprentices excited if she seemed excited for it, she had to figure. "Eat those herbs and I'll be right outside for you, okay?" With that, she picked her way back out of the den to wait.

Sharp tones of silver and blue flashed across Otterpaw’s watchful gaze, his paws rooted in the sand on the riverbank. The snow had all melted away and the fish were plentiful, as were a number of other types of prey. His gentle smile was soon tainted by a horrid scent that filled his nostrils, causing him to wrinkle up his nose and place a paw over it, making every attempt to block it. Soon enough, though, he woke from his dream to see a leaf filled with herbs. It certainly wasn’t a pleasant scent, so he didn’t even want to imagine how it tasted. ”But Cloverheart… It stinks.” Before she could catch what he’d whimpered under his breath, she trotted out of the nursery, leaving him with his herbs. At least this meant it was time for his moonstone journey… Which meant he could finally become a warrior.

With a sigh, he scrunched his nose once again and chewed up the herbs quickly, trying to gulp them down in as little tome as possible. Maybe if he did that, he wouldn’t taste them as much. Unfortunately, the bitter taste was still there, and lingered as he made his way out of the den. ”I’m ready, Cloverheart.” He said simply, stretching out his back with a purr. ”Say, whadda’ ya put in those little bundle anyway? It’s pretty gross, so it must have some sorta purpose.”

Otterpaw was quick enough to arrive, and Cloverheart nodded in greeting before pushing herself onto her paws. "Yeah, they're not the best, are they? I'm certainly not used to them and I've been at this for how long?" She snorted a laugh, tail waving low as she lead them out of camp. "Anyway, they're uh... well, there's daisy and burnet in there. They keep you from getting sick and keep your strength up. There's sorrel, too, which really just does the same, and just a little bit of chamomile in there... Actually," the medicine cat paused to think, nose wrinkling as she came to a conclusion. "I think you got the last of it! Makes you feel special, huh?" Cloverheart wilted, despite her otherwise cheery demeanor. Maybe she could bring back more than Basilbloom's flower, if they were hiking all the way out to Twolegplace.

"Nothing too exciting, really. Just enough herbs to make little cats like you dread this trip." She laughed again, but the sound was thin. Picking her way over a frozen clump of reeds, she paused a moment to turn back around and watch Otterpaw. "Are you looking forward to it? Seeing the Moonstone, I mean. I can barely believe I'm taking you! You and your littermates grew up so fast. I'm sure your pa– I'm sure your father is proud." Cloverheart swallowed thickly and ducked her head, pressing on through the territory. Maybe Birdsong's litter was a bad choice in cats to have long talks about StarClan with. But Flypaw had wanted to, even if they bristled halfway to Highstones... The she-cat's ears lowered. Maybe Otterpaw just wouldn't notice her little slip in speech.

”Well, I guess those things are kinda important. Won’t we need them more on the trip back though? We’ll be real exhausted then. I just woke up from a nap, I’ve got plenty of energy! Unless the herbs last super long… Or take a while to kick in? I dunno. You’re the expert so I trust ya.” Otterpaw mewed. Cloverheart could stick to her herbs, and he’d stick to beating up bad guys at the border. ”It makes me feel horrible. I’ve gotta endure this ‘chamomile’ stuff and my sisters don’t? I call foxdung!” The little tom joked, tail sticking straight up in the air in feigned distress.

Otterpaw’s ears perked up when Cloverheart began talking about the moonstone, but quickly turned back to stick flat against his head when she nearly spoke about his parents. ”You don’t have’ta dance around the subject like it’s some big secret or somethin’, or like it’s gonna kill you to say it. It’s not. Everybody knows what happened to ma, and I’m tired of pretending like it never happened… Like it’s all okay.” Otterpaw kicked a clump of snow as he continued to walk, frustration lacing his tone. ”Doesn’t it get exhausting, trying to pretend like it’s all fine, when it’s not?” Otterpaw looked up and met Cloverheart’s gaze, genuine innocence in his big green eyes, the hurt clear in his tone.

Despite her best attempts at changing the subject (though really, the attempt wasn't very good at all), Otterpaw hooked on to the slight mention of his late mother. Cloverheart's ears flattened, and for a moment they mirrored each other: stiff, frustrated, lost. She spared a glance over her shoulder to face him, but twisted away just as quickly as she could catch his eye. Instead, she watched her steps; the snow gave way easily underpaw, and it crunched pleasantly as she stepped through it. It wasn't particularly interesting, but it was easier to watch than Otterpaw. The snow didn't ask weighted questions about life; the snow didn't have to grapple with the weight of losing its mother so young. The medicine cat wilted, and trudged onward.

"I wish I could say it gets easier," she started softly, not lifting her head. There was a faint thundering in the distance– they would be approaching the Gorge soon. Swallowing thickly, she continued: "I really do. Obviously–" her next step was exaggerated, lifting her foreleg and letting it hang until she winced– "I know... something about exhaustion. About dancing around painful subjects." Despite the chill, it felt like her pelt burned. Cloverheart finally looked up a little, though she could only look at Otterpaw out of the corner of her eye. "It's hard. You'll think about it for the rest of your life. When you do think about it, it'll still be exhausting. But one day, you'll think about it less." She tried a smile. There was no warmth in it.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up, Otterpaw. It'll always hurt, but it might hurt less often, someday."

Otterpaw walked alongside Cloverheart, pushing back the tears that were on the verge of spilling over. ”I don’t expect it to get any easier. I just wish cats would stop pretending like it never happened. It happened. She’s gone. She’s never coming back, and I should be able to feel however I wanna about it.” Otterpaw grunted, stepping forward with more force than was necessary and sending flurries of snow flying into the air. ”It’s fine. I’d rather you bring it up then act all cheerful like there’s nothing but butterflies and rainbow trout. And… Thank you, for listening to me. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m angry at you, I promise I’m not.” Her murmured, realizing the depth of the ton he had spoken to her in earlier.

A sheepy grin creeped onto his face as they walked through the powdery snow, each step bringing them closed to the moonstone. The silence between them was beginning to feel awkward, and he had the perfect way to interrupt it. With a quick dash of his paw, he called out, ”Think fast!” and sent a pile of snow straight into the molly’s coat, covering her in the powdery white substance. ”Ha! Your coat looks magnificent covered in snow, you know. Very pretty, if I don’t say so myself.” He said matter-of-factly, chuckling to himself.

Otterpaw's kick sent snow showering in front of them, and Cloverheart watched as it danced slowly back to he ground. Her mouth drew into a thin line as he went on, but she nodded quietly. "Of course. You're okay, Otterpaw," she mewed softly. She wanted to say more, but no words came to her, so she hung her head and pressed forward.

The silence between them grew. It would have been fine, but it felt uncomfortable under her fur; the weight of Birdsong's death lingered in Cloverheart's mind, even when the she-cat's son had elected to drop the subject. And his father– She shook her head. There was no point dwelling on it, at least not right then. Lost in thought, she was a beat too late to catch Otterpaw's warning; her ears pricked up, and her jaw just parted to ask what he meant when a flurry of snow dashed against her coat. Yelping, Cloverheart wheeled to the side, winced against her own weight, and stumbled to a halt. [i]"Otterpaw!" She gasped sharply, but any accusatory tone quickly gave way to unbidden laughter as she shook the snow out of her pelt. "Otterpaw, you're ridiculous." A fond smile graced Cloverheart's features, and she slowly shook her head as she found her footing and padded onward. "Thank you, though. How kind." A sharp exhale in way of laughter. Briefly, her jaw parted to say something half-snappy about his attempt at flirting, but the medicine just sighed and pressed on. But a sidelong look at the tom, and her nose wrinkled as she smirked... and gave the sno2 a sharp bat, sending it spraying against his darker pelt. "It stands out a lot better on you, though!"

Otterpaw’s face quickly changed tone with Cloverheart’s yelp, a quick, ”Oh, I’m s-“ on his tongue, before he realized she was laughing. Shock and worry morphed into joy and excitement. He joined her in laughter, relief tinging his laugh, thankful the medicine cat hadn’t been hurt. He offered her a sly grin in response to her gratitude, replying, ”Anything for you.” His mind had completely been distracted from the topic of his dead mother, only a distant feeling of emptiness to remind him of what had been. He was now much more focused on being in the present, gaze lingering on Cloverheart for just a second longer than was usual. His eyes then turned to the snow before him as they began walking onward again, and then the shock of cold burst against his pelt. A dramatic gasp sounded from his maw and he looked over to Cloverheart with a smirk. ”So you do know how to have fun!” He quickly made his way to Cloverheart’s side, and then, as hard as he could, he shook out his pelt, sending snow flying in every direction. Most of it made contact with Cloverheart’s pelt, adding to the snow that still clung to it. ”Thank you, but I assure you it looks far better on you. Simply dazzling.” Otterpaw’s smirk remained as he stayed by Cloverheart’s side.

Another cry of surprise left Cloverheart as Otterpaw rushed closer to her, the startled sound quickly melting into genuine laughter, an earnest chorus of mirth instead of a vaguely amused snort. "I'm going to freeze before we get there if you keep that up," she purred, taking a moment to try again to shake loose what she could. Ridiculous as he might have been, Cloverheart couldn't lie and say she wasn't grateful for the young tom's antics; she couldn't remember clearly the last time she had laughed, at least not like this. Still: "You know, there are better cats to try smooth-talking than the medicine cat. And your father's best friend." Her tone was light and teasing as they padded onward, whiskers twitching as she felt the ground harden beneath the snow. The looming figure of Highstones had drawn up closer than she'd realized; they would be reaching Mothermouth soon. Slowly, the earth grew steeper, and she took her steps slowly, glancing between her own paws and the apprentice accompanying her. "You're welcome to keep trying. I have to say, you're very funny, Otterpaw. But," Cloverheart gathered her weight, and half-hopped, half-clambered onto a ledge of stone, "well, in any case. Thank you for the laugh, and the compliments. But you're fur-brained." Again, she laughed, shaking her head as she continued the climb. There was no malice between the mild jab, only friendly warmth. "Oh, and be careful, okay? I don't want you slipping on any of the ice. I can take getting pelted with snow, but I don't know how keen I am on dragging you up here by the scruff!"

Otterpaw laughed with Cloverheart, brushing what snow he could off of her pelt with his fluffy tail, then doing the same to his own contrasting fur. He sighed at her pointed remark about being a medicine cat, dismissing her with a click of his teeth. ”Look, Ma and Pa always said to tell the truth, that’s all I’m doing! He should be glad I did as I was told, eh?” Otterpaw chuckled, grinning ear to ear. ”Oh, and try I will. You’re a smart she-cat, you’ll see one day,” With a wink, Otterpaw prepared to leap up onto the rocky ledge himself, making it up with shocking ease. ”You forget where Ma was from, Cloverheart! My loyalty lies with RiverClan, as does my heart. But Ma gifted me with the strength of a SkyClanner! Who’s dragging who, hm?” Otterpaw teased, leaping up to the next nearest ledge and turning to wait for his travel guide.

Otterpaw continued their ascent, leaping to a small ledge just above Cloverheart. The medicine cat snorted and hauled herself up to join him, giving a solid– but still friendly –whack to his side with her tail. Briefly, her jaws parted to make a comment about his SkyClan heritage (hadn't she had that thought, when she found out Birdsong was pregnant? something about raising SkyClan's kits?), but she just as quickly shook her head with a soft smile. "If you're so strong, maybe I'll make you drag me back to camp, then. Showing off is always fun." She snickered as she passed him upwards, making her way gingerly up the rise until they reached a plateau, the dark entrance of Mothermouth stretched before them. "Well, it's time. When we go into the tunnels, stay close to me. It's dark in there, and easy to get lost." Cloverheart waited a moment, recovering her breath before she took the plunge into the cavern. It wasn't long until brilliant light spilled out before them, and as they approached the Moonstone, Cloverheart wasted no time in settling beside it. "Go ahead and touch your nose to the stone, Otterpaw. You'll dream, and wake up in StarClan. I'll be right here waiting for you."

”Stay close? With pleasure.” Otterpaw said with a smirk. He traversed the tunnel with ease, occasionally calling out to Cloverheart to make sure she was still nearby. When they finally reached the moonstone, his jaw parted slightly in awe. ”Aw man… It’s so pretty.” He smiled at her, nodding his head and padding over to the stone. Once he was settled he touched his nose to the stone, and immediately felt drowsy. Heavy eyelids fell closed, and he quickly fell asleep.

Starlight shimmered on every leaf and blade of grass, and the soft murmur of a lazy river was accompanied by the chirp of a cardinal in a distant tree. The air was cool, but not unpleasantly so, and the starry-pelted gray tabby stood, tail twitching in excitement. As Otterpaw's form materialized before her, she could help but let out a purr as his tabby and white pelt stirred.

"Otterpaw," Birdsong's greeting was filled with warmth as she padded forward, affectionately nuzzling the top of her son's head. "You've grown so fast!" And so much she had missed being able to see for herself, relegated to merely watching from the stars as her kits grew up without her. It made her heart ache, but they were growing strong and would turn into fine warriors. Of that, Birdsong was certain.

She had no qualms about sitting next to her son, fluffy tail lightly curling over her forepaws. Moonstones were for advice, though the thought of just sitting and talking about absolutely nothing of importance was an appealing one. She'd never been one to be good with giving advice, and being dead hadn't really changed that. She was just glad to spend a few moments with her son, in truth.

She needed to offer something, though. And... There were some things she had noticed, watching as Otterpaw made his way toward the moonstone with Riverclan's tiny medicine cat. A low huff escaped her, and she debated for a moment before speaking. Really he deserved a proper scolding for it, and were Cloverheart someone else, Birdsong was sure he would've gotten his ears clawed off for that smart mouth of his. Something he certainly didn't inherit from her. Maybe from other family members.

"You are far too young to be pestering she-cats. Especially older medicine cats." She chided gently. "Some would tear your ears off, for that." She added.

Birdsong’s voice immediately quelled any sense of grogginess Otterpaw felt as he blinked his eyes open, hopping to his paws and rushing to embrace his mother. ”Ma! I’ve missed you so much.” Otterpaw usually wouldn’t be caught dead clinging to his mother in such a way, but he truthfully didn’t care if the whole Clan saw him in that moment. He was finally seeing his mama again, after what felt like endless moons.

Otterpaw knew that Birdsong was probably going to say something wise and give him some sort of advice, but he was perfectly content to sit by her side as they spent this short, sweet moment together. His ears flattened against his sharp skull at the mention of other she-cats, specifically Cloverheart. ”Aw, I’m basically a warrior now. Whenever an apprentice goes to the moonstone, they get their name right after. Like a rite of passage or whatever. So I’m perfectly old enough, ma. Who needs ears, anyway?” He joked, nudging Birdsong’s shoulder gently. ”I’ll leave Cloverheart alone til I earn my name, if it makes ya happy.”

"I've missed you too." Birdsong purred. "Your siblings and Turtlefur, too. I wish things hadn't ended as they did." The sense of loss cut deep, only being able to watch from a distance while the rest of her family grieved hurt more than she could put words to.

"You'll be a warrior soon enough, Otterpaw. Getting in trouble with the medicine cat won't help you. Leaders can delay ceremonies, you know." She chuckled. She just hoped the enthusiasm that most young toms seemed to have for annoying she-cats wouldn't get him into trouble.

"Don't bother the medicine cat. Seriously, Otterpaw. It's against the code and you know better." She said, a bit more sternly this time. She'd always been honest and open about where she'd come from. She didn't want any more kits to have to suffer through what she had.