The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
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Subject: Larkpaw's Moonstone Journey Sat 4 Nov 2023 - 0:30
Sandyshell
Sandyshell stood outside the apprentice den blankly, hesitance making the words stick on her tongue. Eventually, she closed her maw and glanced away in shame of her nerves. Larkpaw was nothing to fear. Sure, the tom didn’t always have the… nicest, way with words. But, she wouldn’t call herself the best at socializing either. As Sandyshell thought of a long, private trip with just Larkpaw, who she had to say she barely knew… she quickly grew scared to say the wrong thing or act the wrong way and end up annoying the apprentice, making everything terribly awkward and ruining the whole journey. But then again, maybe he would just be bothered anyway. She really couldn’t know.
The small cat winced as her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the task at hand. Right, we need to go before it’s too late. Just push through. The molly swallowed the anxiety as her muzzle squirmed, eventually calling into the den Larkpaw’s name. “It’s time for your Moonstone visit,” she added to her whisper. Just before the tom emerged Sandyshell fixed her expression into a sweet smile. She quickly glanced down at the herb bundle between her paws, then gently passed it over. “Er, I know these taste bitter, but it will be worth it. I promise.”
Sandyshell reminded herself that this was Rowansong’s apprentice, and it wouldn’t kill her to get to know the tom better. And people liked a friendly medicine cat anyway, right? “Uhm…” She cleared her throat, brightening her tone. “So, are you excited to talk to Starclan? Or… Do you have anything specific in mind to ask?”
Characters : [P]oppyshine; [Pi]neblossom; [W]hisperear; [C]rookedlight; [L]arkspring; [Wi]llowwisp; [R]ashoumon Clan/Rank : RC T5 Deputy; SC T5; WC T5; SkC T5; RC T4; RC T4; Rogue T1 Number of posts : 2988 Gender : Any Pronouns Age : 25
Subject: Re: Larkpaw's Moonstone Journey Sat 4 Nov 2023 - 9:13
Larkpaw
Larkpaw leaned down and tiredly ate at the bitter herbs that Sandyshell presented to him. His foggy mind was still waking up from the sheds of his dreams. So it was time for him to go to his Moonstone…he could not find even a scrap of excitement to feel about that. He was just going to meet another judgmental cat who hated him, but this one will be one of their ancestors, and so it will be even worse. He wondered if his father actually died after he was taken by the twolegs moons ago, and if so, if he would bother to see Larkpaw as his Moonstone guide.
He started walking alongside Sandyshell as they left camp and went towards the Highstones. Larkpaw didn’t lift his gaze to look at her when she addressed him and just kept his head low as they trudged along. He mumbled, “Not particularly. I doubt they would have all that much to say to me anyway.” Knowing him, he would stumble over some unspoken rule somehow, or he would get the stupidest cat in StarClan to talk to him. The thought made his tail lash behind him.
Sandyshell had to focus her ears to catch the tom’s mumbling answer. “Oh,” she said, her bright tone falling away. When his tail lashed angrily her anxiety spiked, quick to assume he was bothered by her. Not everyone is always angry at you, she reminded herself. The she-cat watched Larkpaw closely with concern and noticed something different was on his mind. She spoke gently. “Well, you don’t have to talk to them. But… they usually can say something that will help you as a warrior. Maybe hear them out, that’s all.” Sandyshell was ready to leave it at that. She wouldn’t press him any further. But regardless of what she did or didn’t say, she wanted Larkpaw to feel better about his chance to meet Starclan. She understood more than anyone how judged they could make someone feel, but in the end, their ancestors were there to help. Hopefully, Larkpaw would see that.
-~- ✦ -~- Time Skip -~- ✦ -~-
With the sun long gone and Riverclan far behind them, Larkpaw and his medicine cat finally joined the grounds that hosted many meetings between the living and their ancient past. The Moonstone, lending its light from the moon above, reflected in their green-shaded eyes. Sandyshell’s tail swayed back and forth holding back a bit of excitement for the apprentice at her side. “Ready? Good things will come from this, I promise.” She guided the bi-colored tom closer to the Moonstone. “Touch your nose to it when you’re ready- if you still want to.”
Characters : [P]oppyshine; [Pi]neblossom; [W]hisperear; [C]rookedlight; [L]arkspring; [Wi]llowwisp; [R]ashoumon Clan/Rank : RC T5 Deputy; SC T5; WC T5; SkC T5; RC T4; RC T4; Rogue T1 Number of posts : 2988 Gender : Any Pronouns Age : 25
Subject: Re: Larkpaw's Moonstone Journey Sun 12 Nov 2023 - 8:45
Larkpaw
The walk to the Highstones was long, but quiet, which Larkpaw was grateful for. It gave him time to just think, and consider what all he was going to experience in meeting whatever ancestral cat decided to speak with him. ‘Hear them out’…it didn’t matter. They were going to hate him anyway.
Larpaw knew that there was no point in putting it off, though. He sighs and settled down in front of the large, lustrous stone, and then he finally shifted forward and pressed his nose to the stone before falling to slumber.
Sometimes, Gingerstripe thought that the stars weren't sure what to do with him. A former ShadowClan forbidden-romance kit. An exiled murderer. A RiverClan warrior and mate and father. Not that he minded the quiet days spent with Dewshine and Firepaw and Dappleshine, but the lack of times he had been called upon to give advice to the living generation seemed almost like a slight, at times. But after so long, they'd called on him again. Perhaps because this Larkpaw seemed to be a misfit, a troublemaker in his own right. Perhaps because the stars thought they were funny way. But Gingerstripe took it as a challenge--and it was one that he accepted wholeheartedly.
When Larkpaw opened his eyes, his StarClan visitor would be waiting for him. Tall and lean, his lanky height belying his physical strength, the dark orange tabby tom was a striking image. White chest, paws, and tail; long whiskers; deep forest-green eyes that held a hard-won wisdom. It was not the usual form of a RiverClan cat, but there was no mistaking the scent of river silt and fish scales. And, like all those who dwelt in the starry plains, bright studs of starlight gleamed in the depths of his fur. He smiled at the apprentice. "Hey there, Larkpaw," the warrior said. "I'm Gingerstripe. It's nice to meet you. What would you like from me?"
Larkpaw looked at the cat that emerged before his very eyes. The landscape was beautiful and ethereal, but his heart wasn’t into it. The cat before him was not his father, which could mean that his father was not dead, or it could mean that he did not want to see Larkpaw. Either seemed like viable options. He did not know this cat, and had no idea about what wisdom to expect from him.
He blinked at Gingerstripe, momentarily stunned before he said, “I am supposed to know what to ask? I thought you were an ancestor with endless wisdom.” His nose wrinkled. “Don’t you have…I don’t know. Some incredibly wise words that will help me in my path to being a warrior?”
Gingerstripe tilted his head a little bit at the response he received. "There's no real line of what you're supposed or not supposed to do," he said. "I just like to ask in case there's any big questions that someone has. I'm not omniscient, but I do know a bit about you. I know you sometimes feel like you don't fit. I know that you think your leader dislikes you. I know that your father is gone. I know that you love Rookpaw more than anything else, and I know how that leads you to acts of jealousy that drive you away from Clanmates who would otherwise be your friends." His long tabby tail waved behind him as he carefully regarded Larkpaw. His face, previously a warm smile, turned to a more serious expression. "Sure, I know lots about you. But I figured I'd give you the chance to ask. How many times in your life will you have the option to receive any answer you want? You'll receive lots of answers in your life, Larkpaw. But I warn you... there will be some that you don't like."
A slow blink momentarily relieved Larkpaw from the pressure of his dark green eyes, until they were looking at him again. "I don't know whether I have any words that would be considered as 'incredibly wise,' but I do have some knowledge from my life. I had a long and complicated sojourn in the world of the living, and if it didn't buy me any wisdom, then I suppose it would have been worthless. So I'll give you some advice." Gingerstripe considered for a moment or so, silence stretching long in the starry evening, before he spoke. "If you are confused by something, then say so. If you do not know what to do, then ask. If you do something wrong, then apologize. Remember that your worldview is not necessarily correct, nor is it the only one in the world. Communication is the only way to truly belong to your Clan. What good would RiverClan be if every cat listened only to themself?" He himself had been thrown out of ShadowClan for following what he had then believed--strongly, with every fiber of his being--was justice. If he had just waited, just spoken with Firestone, just asked Honeydrop why, then perhaps it could all have been avoided. "It's okay if you don't understand something immediately. But if you assume that everyone hates you and is out to get you, and you act accordingly, then eventually it will become true. A self-fulfilling prophecy." His gaze gleamed, as if he was looking into the past, or maybe the future. "Like that Dovepaw. If you'd apologized or explained yourself or spoken softly, perhaps the misunderstanding could have been repaired. But now you have an enemy. You will acquire many enemies if you act rashly, and as if your way is the only way in the world."
The orange cat began to speak, and the more he spoke, the more Larkpaw felt heated beneath his thin pelt. His fur bristled and his claws instinctively came out, but he did not lift his paws from the starry ground. It took all of his willpower not to hiss at this stranger that dared to speak to him like this—ancestor or not.
“And just where is this polite, altruistic behavior in the rest of the clan, then?” he spat. “You really think that it would be so wise as to simply turn the other cheek? That is a recipe for being walked all over. I can admit that I have acted a little rash in the past, but it was not without merit. I get bit by a cat after I explained the consequences to that horrendous action, and when she got what was coming to her, I got ganged up on by several cats including this angelic Dovepaw you speak of, simply because of her age. She couldn’t have possibly known any better because she was a stupid, tiny kit. And yet when I, as a stupid, tiny kit did something I did not know I should not have, when I was never told the consequences of, I was hissed at by Perchstar and chased out of the den. Where was her turning of her cheek? Where was her apology? Where was the slew of cats coming to my defense? If not even the leader can uphold this wonderful behavior you are spouting, why should I?”
Larkpaw’s tail lashed behind him and he took a couple of paces back. It was unclear if he was doing it because he saw Gingerstripe as a threat now or if he was doing it to restrain himself from reacting more physically. “Even your own logic is flawed. I should have reacted calmly and explained things to Dovepaw? I did explain to him. I am not allowed to be angry after I was bit? I was not allowed to be offended when she made a big stink about the same repercussions I warned her about? Dovepaw was not calm when he approached me! He told me to not bully his sister, and acted like I was a heinous criminal. He invaded the den when I told him—calmly told him—that he was not allowed out. He spread stupid lies to his sister that I had tried to suffocate him in the sand. Why should I roll over like a soft-bellied idiot so I can get more smiles? It won’t change anything. I will be bit, scolded, and told I am foolish no matter what I do!”
He looked away and scowled. He thought of what few friends he had. Rookpaw and Cinderpaw both came to mind, and they calmed the tight tangle that pulled at his chest, and it felt slightly easier to breathe. “Rookpaw and Cinderpaw accept me as I am. I was quite clear with Cinderpaw that everyone took what I said terribly, and she said she would help to understand what I actually meant. And she does. It is not impossible. I am not simply some villain like my clanmates like to believe. If she can do it, and if Rookpaw can love me as I am, why should I be expected to change entirely for everyone else who would certainly not do the same for me?”
Willowpaw’s stupid words kept coming back to him. You will not make many friends like that…Your life will be easier if cats like you. He shut his eyes tightly and bared his teeth. That is just the thing, isn’t it? It was not as though he was trying to be someone that everyone hated. He did not go out of his way…If he were to change, then they would not like him. They would like a facade. It would be exhausting to upkeep that mask every day. There was not even a guarantee that it would work.
Gingerstripe blinked in shock at the torrent that came from Larkpaw. Well, he had asked for advice, after being warned that he would not like it. That was that. Patiently, he waited for the storm of hit-bird-fluttering anger, before he spoke. He did not approach. He left Larkpaw his space. "Do you not realize," he said softly, "that this is exactly what I am talking about? You assume that everyone will hate you no matter what. You assume that because Rookpaw and Cinderpaw like you, that it is everyone else's job to approach and soothe you no matter how you treat them. You are a self-fulfilling prophecy. You are a cycle, a storm that whirls in on itself, complaining about the loud winds while simultaneously strengthening them with every move. I understand you. You are not a bad cat. But if you continue this way, you will lose even those who care for you now."
He shook his head. "Let us go over these examples one by one. I see how you come to the conclusion that everyone hates you, but it is not the case. Nor is everything solely your fault, as I did not claim that even once." He waved his tail behind him, and an image of Pigeonpaw and Dovepaw appeared to swim in Larkpaw's mind's eye. A single blink and it would disappear. "Pigeonpaw was in the wrong to attack you, but you were in the wrong to threaten her. Both of you were wrong. The problem was not even so much in your retaliation as it was in your assumption. 'They will think that I am wrong,' you told yourself. 'There is no point. They hate me already. They are ganging up on me.' And so instead of learning from the situation, you took the wrong lesson. 'They will hate me no matter what.' Your explanation was sullen and angry because you already decided on the response that you would get--the response that you wanted. And so it was the response that you received. Everyone was upset at you, because they took from the situation exactly what you expected them to: a grumpy apprentice who snapped at a kit who did not know any better."
The image of Pigeonpaw disappeared, replaced entirely by Dovepaw, determination shining in his eyes. "This led also to your next problem. Another kit, another wrong place, another wrong time. You 'explained,' as you said, but you have conveniently left details out of your recollection. You hissed unkindly at him. You did not explain yourself in a logical and clear manner, nor one that invited conversation. You already disliked him, and you were already unhappy, so you took for granted that the interaction was destined to be a negative one. And so you made it so." The image of a snarling Larkpaw advanced, pushing the head of a kit into the sand. With another blink, it was gone, as if it had been no more than a figment. "Yes, he overreacted. But it was an escalation that echoed yours. He was in the wrong to respond the way that he did, but you were in the wrong to cause it with your own unkindness. Every time that he responded incorrectly, you added more fuel to the fire, because you wanted to burn. You wanted the heat. It was not your fault, but it was caused by you. You understand?"
But the words continued, rebuffing scenes that Larkpaw had twisted to his own understanding of being the most-hated, most-misunderstood apprentice. Gingerstripe's words were gentle, but inexorable, like the flow of the river. "You misremember things in a way that fits your beliefs. You say that Perchstar hissed at you, when in reality, you invaded her boundaries and caused her to request--in a raised voice, but with as much politeness as she could muster--that you leave. Instead of ever talking to her again and asking for clarification, you avoided her as much as possible. Perhaps she did not understand how to apologize to you. Perhaps she thought that you hated her. You are so busy considering yourself that you never consider other cats." Deep green eyes stared into Larkpaw's own, almost in an accusing manner--but without any malice, simply the pointing finger of logic itself, respecting no one. "You did this. You did that. Poor Larkpaw, never being given a chance to explain himself--only that he never really tried, because he told himself that there was no point. 'No matter what,' you say, despite the fact that you have never attempted to take any other way. Your positive interactions--Rookpaw, Cinderpaw--do not somehow see past any fictitious rumors or fog of hatred that you presume. These are the cats with whom you invited conversation. It should not, then, be any surprise to you that conversation then occurred. Imagine if you had spoken to Perchstar in the way you speak to Cinderpaw? If you had spoken to Dovepaw, to Sunpaw, to any of the many cats that you assume dislike you for reasons that you fabricate? You poison your own memories against them. You push them out when they do not fit your narrative. You paint yourself the villain so that they have no choice but to see you that way. Do you understand, Larkpaw?"
Finally, Gingerstripe did step forward. His voice was once more soft. There was an understanding in his eyes, in the dark green wisdom of the stars, though Larkpaw would hate to see it. "I have been cast out," the warrior said. "I have been hated and despised, my name used as a curse and a hiss and a byword for a murderer, when I did only what I knew was right. I was driven out of my home by my own mate and my own foster mother. I know what it is like to be hated. To be alone. And trust me--that is not what you face." He stepped forward once more. "You are not a bad cat. You are not a villain. But you are also not a misunderstood victim. You are just a cat, Larkpaw, one who has made mistakes and made friends just like anyone else. Your biggest problem is yourself. You are what is standing in your way. Will you step out of your own shadow and fix your mindset before it becomes too late? Or will you consume yourself in your own jealousy, fading and snarling and thrashing like a mad predator in its death throes, until there is nothing left but the villain that you so desperately desire others to see you as? Will you become like I was? A rogue, an exile, a murderer?" For a moment, Gingerstripe appeared as he had during his days as a loner. Pelt scraggly, eyes sunken and empty. Then, he shook out his fur, and appeared as he was the day before his death. Well-kept and shiny fur. Eyes full of love and warmth for his family. A cat who loved, and who was loved. A cat who belonged. "Or will you look around you," he whispered, "and see all those who can be your allies? Your Clanmates, your friends? Will you seize the opportunities before you and become a great warrior, loved and admired for your confidence and ferocity? Will you achieve the dream that you have ceased to allow yourself? Will you admit to yourself that you are worthy of love, and that it is worth putting in the effort for?"
Larkpaw’s ears flattened as Gingerstripe spoke. Gingerstripe’s words, which were once just annoying, small jabs, began to stab harder and faster, like swipes of claws to his belly. The images conjured from stardust closed his throat and made it hard to breathe. The Pigeon that formed in front of him felt small. Instinctive anger jolted in his heart, but it felt rehearsed, like being trained to pounce on a mouse instead of the retaliation of claws to a predator, where he needed to defend himself.
Why should she not be punished? his sour voice hissed in his ears.
Why could you not just scold her as your father did to you before he disappeared? a voice not unlike his own answered back.
“I-” Larkpaw began, but Gingerstripe pressed on. The Perchstar that was conjured made his heart skip a beat, but it was not anger and irritation as he had always labeled it. He realized with a start, due in no small part thanks to Gingerstripe’s words, that it was guilt. He thought of Dovekit entering the den and how angry he had been simply of his presence. Larkpaw kept no important trinkets for Dovepaw to mess with, not like how he had done to Perchstar’s items.
I didn’t know! How could I have known if I had never been told? his angry voice insisted.
"If you are confused by something, then say so. If you do not know what to do, then ask. If you do something wrong, then apologize," repeated Gingerstripe’s recent words.
Larkpaw shook his head hard, like he could rid himself of the storm brewing inside of him as one would an annoying fly. “I don’t-” Gingerstripe pressed onward. Larkpaw’s face felt impossibly hot, like he had just stuck it into a fire. “I am not some-!” The storm brewed stronger in his chest. Gingerstripe stepped closer to him and Larkpaw shrinked down as though he expected some physical retaliation; like Gingerstripe was a threat. Perhaps he was. His words cut deeper than any claw Larkpaw could imagine; pierced a million times deeper than some old bite from Pigeonkit.
“I did not ask to be born wrong.” He looked up at Gingerstripe with a look that attempted to glare, but ended up looking only pained and pathetic. “You speak as though I choose these things. Like I wake up and decide I want everyone to hate me. I have never wanted that. I’ve never wished for any of this. How can you tell me simultaneously that I must change how I am, but also that I am able to be loved as I am? You are speaking nonsense! You are as confusing as the rest of them!”
"I cannot give you a chance if you will not give me one. I do wish to be a good mentor, but I am not the sole determiner for the course of our relationship, Larkpaw."
It was not him. It was not just him! Rowansong got angry at him first and then made him run off because he was so furious and-
"You misremember things in a way that fits your beliefs." reminds Gingerstripe.
Gingerstripe did not even conjure anything, but in Larkpaw’s mind’s eye he saw his own revisions. Rowansong spoke calmly until Larkpaw spat at him. He tried to speak calmly even when Larkpaw had unknowingly called his own siblings’ deaths stupid and careless. Had their roles been reversed, Larkpaw would have mauled Rowansong; he could not pretend it was not the case.
But it could not only be him. He has not tried to ruin everything. That’s all they ever told him. He was the one ruining it all. He did not bite a kit for the The Dark Forest of it. He did not try and smother another kit. He did not purposely invade a leader’s space. He did not try to insult his mentor. He didn’t…And yet he still did it. Perhaps the same could be said of the others; perhaps they did not try to treat him poorly. Perhaps he was revising that too.
"Will you admit to yourself that you are worthy of love, and that it is worth putting in the effort for?"
Worthy of love? Larkpaw let out a shaky, uneasy laugh. If anything this conversation proved to him, it was that he was not someone to be loved. Some alternate version of him, perhaps. One who had been born without something missing inside of him. Someone who could smile and purr and take any insult like it was water off a duck’s back. He would have to completely rewrite himself. No one would love him for that. Perhaps Rook would, but only because they were stuck with him. Their father was gone and he was all that was left. Larkpaw would love Rook through anything, but was Rook just loving him out of obligation? If he wanted to survive and function in this clan life, he could not be Larkpaw. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he just had to be…
"Are you okay?"
Larkpaw opened his eyes from where he had crouched and shut them tightly. He stared at the starry grass underpaw and Cinderpaw came to mind. He was horrible to her too, truly awful, like everyone else, but she had still treated him kindly. She had still…
Were you as awful as you’ve always been?
Of course. Of course he was…Wasn’t he? His memories felt hazy and unreliable now after everything that Gingerstripe told him. Larkpaw strained to remember their interaction as unbiased as possible; to compare it to any other interaction. He pictured snapping at Pigeonkit, yelling at Rowansong, and hissing at Sunpaw. He pictured Cinderpaw; his words were morose and a little snappish but…
"…I’m glad…she is good to you. And I appreciate…the offer. But there is no need to trouble yourself."
It had taken effort to not lash out, but he had managed it. Perhaps he was not terrible. But then if he wasn’t awful, he was-
Were you someone other than you?
Larkpaw’s jaw trembled. He finally lifted his eyes and looked up at Gingerstripe. Larkpaw felt foolish, crouching down like a coward in front of someone who was only supposed to be here to help him. He felt like he couldn’t quite stand again.
“What if I fail?” he finally asked. “What if—What if I keep falling back on it? Or I can’t change? That thing that’s wrong with me continues to stay broken? I do not try to be awful. I do not try to ruin anything. What if I cannot escape the problems inside of me?”
Gingerstripe watched carefully. Facing oneself was not an easy task. It had taken exile, had taken the brutal loss of everything he had ever known--his bonds, his brother, his home--for him to even begin looking inward and seeing his own mistakes. By then it had been far too late to fix them, and the guilt had tormented him nearly until his death. This would be painful for Larkpaw, but if he could understand, then it would be worth it. And thankfully, Gingerstripe saw that the inner turmoil, the conflict that Larkpaw was facing, was doable. He was facing it. He was beginning to understand. But in his understanding he also began to swing too far. Too far into guilt, too far into self-doubt. Gingerstripe's face fell in a gentle sympathy. That was where he had ended up, too... Alone in the barn, wallowing in self-loathing, nearly starving himself to death with the loneliness of it. Hopefully he could rescue Larkpaw from that, too.
"You try," Gingerstripe said simply, softly, with the love with which he might have spoken to his own son. Not that Firepaw had ever faced such internal battles; no, he had died before he had the chance. But maybe his fatherly instincts could be used for good anyway. There was no condescension in his tone--just a gentle understanding. "You are not a bad cat. There is nothing wrong with you. You have simply made mistakes; that is all. Perhaps your personality does not mesh well with others, but that will change easily with work. If you were a bad cat, would Rookpaw like you? Would Cinderpaw spend so much time with you? If you were a bad cat, would not Perchstar have simply cast you out of the Clan?" Gingerstripe smiled and leaned forward, gently touching his nose to Larkpaw's forehead in a benediction. Then he stepped back, not wanting to remain in his personal space if it made him uncomfortable. "Now that you know the cause of your mistakes, you can remedy them. You can move forward in that knowledge and make fewer and fewer mistakes, and remedy those that you do make even quicker. Do not wait until it is so late in your life, like I did. Take this knowledge and use it now. Use it, and you will receive the love and appreciation of more than just Rookpaw and Cinderpaw. Many friends and relationships await you, if you will only seek them out, Larkpaw. This is the advice that I give unto you." His eyes glowed green, becoming as bright as the stars around and behind them. The rest of him began to glow brighter too, turning starry. Silverpelt shone through him. "Remember it." Then with that, he was gone.
