Snailpaw's Moonstone Journey

ooc: this moonstone takes place at the lake territories during the On Bated Breath sitewide 2023-24!

There was a bit of relief that no herbs had to be used for a long journey to Highstones, the minuscule amount they currently had being a well protected treasure. Though she did curse herself for allowing Burdockroot to use them on her.

Tonight, she lay next flank to flank with Snailpaw, Rookefire's apprentice. This had been a long time coming it felt, Snailpaw being an apprentice since before StarClan had pulled medicine cat from her warrior duties. "A clear night under the stars will do just the same as the Moonstone. Get comfortable and close your eyes; StarClan will come to you through me. Dream well."

Snailpaw had wondered what it was that made a medicine cat different from others that allowed StarClan to speak to them ever since Heatherberry transitioned away from warrior life. Which had honestly been quite a long time ago, as she could remember hunting alongside the older she-cat as a newly named apprentice, back when the medicine cat’s name was still Harriertalon. Had there been a sign from StarClan that she should give up her talons and pick up berries? Or did she show a knack for herbs and the whole ancestor-speaking side of things just came with the territory? Maybe on another day, when the black molly wasn’t stretched so thin with so many sick cats to care for, Snailpaw would ask what it was like. It seemed fascinating work.

Settling in beside Heatherberry, the younger she-cat tried her best not to worry if she would be able to reach StarClan. It was a bit taboo to ask anyone for tips on the subject. Although, the warmth radiating from Heatherberry helped to draw sleepiness out of her. Very comfortable on this chilly night.

Her eyes drooped closed. “Goodnight, dad,” she mumbled into a cloak of dark fur, lulled to sleep far too quickly to absorb the embarrassment from her kitlike slip.

---

When she opened her eyes again, it was still dark, but instead of the medicine cat taking up her field of view, Snailpaw found herself alone in the middle of Fourtrees. Alone, except for clouds of dancing fireflies lilting among the branches and across the Great Rock. Leafbare’s chill did not reach here, something she was grateful for due to her short fur. Contrary to what she’d expected of herself, she didn’t feel scared at being in StarClan’s territory. A mixture of wonder and peace filled her heart instead, moving her to stand and take in the scenery, and indeed spot a cat approaching her, someone she didn’t recognize by their face but knew they were of ShadowClan through their scent. Slowly the relaxed state of her heart stiffened; she didn’t know how to properly greet a StarClan cat! Nor did she know how much respect they were due! Her voice rose with an obvious crack and a comically uncertain look on her face. “H-Hello!”

The youthful uncertainty written across the apprentice's face caused his whiskers to twitch in amusement. Flamestrike's eyes drank in the familiar landscape of Fourtrees, realizing how impossibly small one cat seemed in the empty, star-speckled clearing. He quickly scaled down the side, hailing her with a flick of his tail. Across his maw was an inviting smile. Hazeflight's kits, no matter how difficult some of them had become, had first taught him what it meant to want to preserve the innocence of kithood. And then had come Firestone and Gingerstripe. Looking into the eyes of apprentice's stirred the warmth in his chest. It was the one thing that pulled him from a peaceful resignation in the afterlife.

As he trotted over, the lanky flame-pelted warrior slowed his gait. His vibrant green eyes cast a glance around the hallowed grounds, "It's been moons since I've walked here." Although the words had been muttered, they were clear enough to reach Snailpaw's ears. He refocused his attention to the molly and dipped his head, "Welcome to Starclan, Snailpaw. My name is Flamestrike, a former Shadowclan warrior. It seems you and I are here to have our own gathering this night." Sensing her hesitation, Flamestrike tried to offer comfort, hoping to seem as little more than a clanmate, rather than a messenger of the stars.

This tom, he seemed nice enough. “Flamestrike,” she echoed, “I’m Snailpaw. …You already said that. Um,” This would be her only chance to speak with a StarClan cat her whole life! She couldn’t fudge this! Though with the way he carried himself, this tom felt more like a kind uncle than the stone-faced, unreadable ancestors she had imagined. That did something to release the tension in her chest. She carefully, slowly unspooled her words. “It's alright if you don't have an answer for me, but, I just - I never feel like I know what I’m doing. So many times, when I make a decision on my own I feel like I have to hide it, just in case it was the wrong thing to do. I see everyone else doing things with such confidence, but when I do the same things it feels like I'm just mimicking without knowing the reason. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be ready to be a warrior. I don’t feel, uh, solid is the word, I think.” Through her nervous expression, Snailpaw’s jade eyes shone imploringly, “So what does it feel like, to be ready?”

Embarrassment and shame crept into her face, but she did her best to hold Flamestrike's gaze.

As the she-cat slowly relaxed, words began to tumble from her maw. Flamestrike leaned into Snailpaw's word, his ears perking to snow the careful attentiveness. What she said struck a cord with him and it was proven to be no mistake that the two of them had convened here. Memories swam in his mind, flashes of the life that he had lived in the forest and decisions he'd made impacting cats he'd never meant to hurt. He understood her concerns more deeply than the apprentice likely knew. Starclan had always seemed like some distant and far away thing but the fact remained it was still filled with the hearts of cats who had once walked the forest like any other.

"I wish there was an easy answer to that." With a low sigh, the former warrior cast a glance slowly around the clearing. It was clear he was remembering. The brief silence was fractured by the soft echoing of his voice, "My whole life I tried to make the best decisions I could, but my heart sometimes got in the way of reason... in the way of the code. Taking the medicine cat as a mate and our lies to our kits, it broke all of our lives. I don't regret the beauty that came from it though. The contented smile on Honeydrop's maw in our moments together, the joy and determination on our kit's face as they grew..." He trailed off as pain crackled through the pleasantries.

"I think that at the end of the day there is no way of knowing what is the best path for you paws to take." He said with a stiff nod, as if to accept his own admission, "You'll stumble and falter and there will be pain, I can promise you that, but there will also be unforgettable beauty. I think if any cat can handle that, you can. What do you say, Snailpaw? Maybe we just close our eyes and stumble around in the dark for a while until something makes sense."