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: Foxpaw's Moonstone Journey Thu 29 Aug 2024 - 6:51
The camp was still in shadow as Wolfstar exited the medicine den, a bundle of herbs in her mouth, and made her way across the clearing to the apprentice den. She'd done this enough times she was almost numb to the taste of the traveling herbs... Maybe that was how the medicine cats were able to function with the seemingly constant back and forth to the moonstone after all. The task would be hers for now. She didn't mind it, of course, but... The leader shook her head. If only she could shake away the knot of worry and unease that had settled into her chest.
Setting the bundle down, Wolfstar ducked her head into the den, blue eyes picking out the apprentice she was looking for in the gloom. "Foxpaw, time to get up." Wolfstar called into the den, then stepped back to wait.
"Eat these, they'll give you strength for the trip ahead of us. Fair warning, they're gross." She said, almost apologetically as she nudged the herbs toward her grandson. Once he'd eaten the herbs, the tabby and white she-cat would lead him from camp.
---
The journey took all day, though filled with snatches of quiet conversation the time seemed to pass quickly. The first stars were appearing in the sky above as the pair reached the cavern entrance that would lead to the moonstone, and Wolfstar turned to Foxpaw. "Stick close, the tunnels are narrow and there's no light at all. When we get to the moonstone, touch your nose to it and lay down. I can't speak to what you'll see but I'll be there when you wake up." And with those instructions, she turned and led the way into the tunnels, paws finding the familiar path to the moonstone with ease. When the faint light of the moonstone was visible, it was a relief, and the leader's pawsteps quickened slightly.
The moonstone was a sight, as always, and Wolfstar stepped aside, lightly brushing her tail against Foxpaw's shoulder. The leader simply nodded in the direction of the stone. Nothing for her to do now but wait for morning.
And if the world don't break, I'll be shaking it...
Foxpaw, antsy and unable to rest, was already half-awake when Wolfstar came calling for him. He lifted his head immediately at the sound of her voice, ears pressing forward and eyes searching for her face, haloed against the gloom. Finally… it was time. He was being summoned for his Moonstone. Wasppaw had hers first somehow, curse her, but that didn’t matter. It was his turn now. Foxpaw shuffled up out of his nest and made his way out into the breaking dawn. On stepping outside, he nodded at Wolfstar’s instruction and bent down to sniff at the herbs. They made his nose wrinkle, and lapping them up almost made him gag, but he fought to keep him down. Then he perked up and, grinning, said, ”Let’s go, yeah?” The walk was long and arduous. Foxpaw was sure the herbs did something for him, because he wasn’t about to collapse by the time they reached the crags, but his paws still ached with the effort of having walked farther than he ever had before. Weariness pulled at him, and even deep in a cavern, sleep sounded blissful. Foxpaw angled his head up to his grandmother and nodded sternly. He turned his head forward, stared into the dark cavern ahead, and realized with a slow blink that he… didn’t know what he was expecting to find here. Firetreader’s words from his apprenticeship echoed in Foxpaw’s ears. Maybe he wouldn’t see StarClan at all… or maybe they would be useless, if he did.
With a puff of breath, Foxpaw shook his thoughts away and followed into the tunnels. It was damp, cramped, and uncomfortable, but he held his tongue against complaining. It wasn’t long before brilliant light spilled forth. Foxpaw had to screw his eyes up against it. Despite his constant composure checking, even he couldn’t stop an awed, ”Wow...” from slipping out. Slowly, he padded forward until he was close enough to settle beside the Moonstone. After a glance over his shoulder at Wolfstar, Foxpaw made himself comfortable and pressed his nose against the cool surface. Immediately, a chill washed over him, tugging him down into sleep.
When the apprentice opened his eyes, he would see a forest full of tall trees reminiscent of the SkyClan territory, except that this forest appeared to be neverending. Instead of the warm greenleaf that he'd become used to, this forest appeared to be stuck in an eternal state of leaf-fall. Each white-trunked tree stood glorious with bright colors--deep orange, bright red, pale yellow--almost as if each individual leaf had caught flame. Glowing in the sun, the forest appeared ablaze. The ground beneath his paws was littered with similarly vivid shades of vermillion and gold. It was beautiful. And yet, the air stank of decay. Fungi popped up through the mats of dead leaves. Distantly, the wind rustling through the leaves brought with it a chill and a certainty of leaf-bare. At the far edges of the woods, the radiant flaming colors withered away to a dark, ugly brown.
Against the lurid backdrop of this deteriorating paradise, a cat stepped out of the shadows behind a tall birch tree. The deep, almost bluish gray color of his tabby pelt stood out starkly against the warm colors of red and orange. He was a thin cat, lean and wiry, with a long tail that lashed behind him. As he moved, stars glimmered deep within his fur. Yellow eyes narrowed as they sized up the intruder. "So, they send another pathetic son of the bloodline to me, do they?" the rangy tom scoffed, stalking closer to where Foxpaw stood. "Another promising life for them to ruin. Another sun that will set just like the rest. Another one, descended from ancestors that only brought ruin and rot to a former empire. After Yewshade, you think they would have learned." Breezewhisker stopped, halting in front of the apprentice. Piercing amber eyes glared. "I don't know why they send me to you. I don't know why they still try. These starry fools--allowing SkyClan to fade away, to dissemble into a shadow of its former self. It has been cursed ever since that tyrant sat on the Highbranch. As long as his descendants live, they carry on his twisted legacy. All of you are doomed. Doomed to devastation and destruction. The Dark Forest waits to claim you, as it has so many of your kin."
Though the forest still appeared beautiful, the air grew only cooler, and the colors only dulled. Gold now appeared closer to bronze. Red faded to orange, orange descended into a tawny yellow. Brown curled in on the edges of vision. Breezewhisker's flat, harsh voice held no sympathy. Any sympathy had been burned out of him long ago. "You wish for me to speak comfort? To give flattering warmth and empty kindness? No. This advice is the only help I can give. I speak truth, and truth alone. It is better to warn you of your fate than to sit on my haunches and pretend that darkness does not loom in your future." The cold breeze twisting through the trees grew only stronger, evoking memories of snow and ice. Frost crept up the base of a nearby oak. "Hear me, Foxpaw. Your Clan is no place of glory. It is a tomb, for you and for all those who have come before. It is a repeating cycle of disaster that none have been able to escape. Whatever you seek--power, fame, love--you will not find it. It will all crumble away beneath your paws... just as it did mine."
And if the world don't break, I'll be shaking it...
Foxpaw had little time to appreciate the beauty of his surroundings after opening his eyes. He tried to take it all in--the faint chill in the air, the way the leaves burned in a way he’d only ever heard described, never seen for himself--but the stench that clung to the endless forest overwhelmed him. Furrows formed along the bridge of Foxpaw’s muzzle as his features contorted, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he spat out a sharp, ”Blech.” When his paws dragged uncertainly forward through the leaves, he kicked at soft-capped mushrooms. ...signs of decay. This was StarClan? The sanctuary of their ancestors? Nothing seemed particularly holy about it. The sharper cold that came in on the next breeze chased away any lingering thoughts of StarClan being comforting figures.
If it weren’t for the contrast of his pelt, Foxpaw would have missed the arrival of another cat, the pads were so quiet. As it was, he caught the flash of darkness from the corner of his eye and turned quickly toward it. The stars that lined the stranger’s coat did not make him look at all friendly. Something about the way he stood out so starkly against the bright world around him, the thinness of his body and the way his body moved as if stalking--Foxpaw’s tail started to bristle. He wasn’t sure if he felt safe with those eyes, seeming to size him up, digesting him through his bones. Could he escape from StarClan, if a dream went sour? Or was he left to their whims? Foxpaw’s lip curled again.
StarClan’s idea of an example drew closer, spitting something bitter about “another son of the bloodline.” Pathetic made Foxpaw’s shoulders bristle defensively. What was wrong with his blood? He was proud of his heritage. He came from a long line of leaders and other powerful cats. But more importantly--what was wrong with him? His mouth opened to protest, but his teeth were forced to click together again when the blue-pelted tom went on talking.
He didn’t know the name Yewshade, but Foxpaw understood the rest. The words made his paws feel cold and heavy. What did this cat mean--another life to ruin? Foxpaw’s tail snapped side-to-side behind him. A former empire--as if SkyClan wasn’t still doing well! ...so far as he knew, at least. Something uncomfortable wriggled in the depths of Foxpaw’s chest. His Clan had a history, he knew fragments from nursery stories meant to frighten the kits into order--but that was it. What was this cat talking about, with tyrants and assured devastation? About--Foxpaw’s ancestors residing in the Dark Forest?
Another lash of the apprentice’s tail. His lip started to curl again. He wanted to speak, but even though there was a lull in the tirade, his throat refused to allow any sound through. Those burning yellow eyes held him entirely pinned. While he fought with tongue and throat, the temperature continued to drop. Foxpaw forced his eyes away from the StarClanner to instead tip his head skyward, watching as the color drained from the leaves and they began to curl in on themselves, growing brittle. His heart was starting to run a little faster in his chest. He took a step backwards without thinking much of it.
Eventually, Foxpaw forced himself to swallow and look down again. He was almost shivering from the cold now. The crackling sound of ice creeping along roots echoed through the air underneath the continuation of the gray warrior’s harsh words. An ear flicked once before both laid flat against his head. Finally, just as he was given an opening with what sounded like the end of the tom’s words, Foxpaw found his voice. ”You-- you call that advice?” He said with a strange bark that could have been an incredulous laugh. ”You did nothing but berate me and my family. How am I supposed to consider that advice?[i]”
Another lash of his tail. The scent of rot in the air was starting to grow stronger. Foxpaw wanted to gag on it, but he forced himself to swallow and maintain his composure, even though it was a little difficult to talk without sounding choked. ”I’m not going to listen to [i]that. I don’t care what happened to you. SkyClan’s not a disaster; it’s my home. They’re my family.” Foxpaw paused to cough, and when he did, a past conversation floated through his mind. Firetreader… right. Maybe he’d had a point about StarClan being a hoax; about the safety of SkyClan being in their paws and theirs alone. ”Maybe it’s cats like you that bring ruin with them. I don’t care what you have to say; I’ll make SkyClan a ‘place of glory.’” The last phrase came out in a mocking scoff.
Foxpaw took another step back before turning his back fully on the StarClanner. ”Nothing’s going to happen to me or my family if I’ve got a paw in it. We’re not going to go to the Dark Forest, or whatever you think. I’ll live a good life just to spite you. I’ll have everything you never did.” Foxpaw spat over his shoulder before tipping his head around to look over his shoulder. ”Can you send me back, or whatever? I don’t really care about whatever else you have to say.”
The wind howled through the trees. As Foxpaw's incredulous words echoed in the distance, they swirled louder around the trunks of the forest, whipping up dark brown leaves that swirled in unintelligible patterns on the littered ground. Breezewhisker's expression did not change at the vitriol spat his way. He'd given and received enough anger and hatred to last multiple lifetimes. Instead, the rangy gray tabby simply stalked forward, ensuring that his deep, toneless voice could be heard over the background of an increasingly tempestuous storm. "Rage against it, if you must. Fight if you can. I did." His claws unsheathed, raking a path through the dead marcescence beneath. "But this is out of your control. A battle you are destined to lose. Fight it if you wish. Run headlong screaming into the predator's maw. Just don't blame me when the lights dim, and the warmth leaves you, and peace becomes a distant, unattainable memory."
Bring ruin? He didn't bring anything. It came to him, and no matter how much he spat and slashed at it, it consumed him. It enveloped him whole and destroyed everything he'd ever cared for, everything he'd worked to build. And it would do so once more. He'd seen it, time and again. Too many names to name. Too many times to count. At Foxpaw's rejection of his words, the wind screamed even louder, whipping branches so quickly they cracked and scratched against each other. Breezewhisker's voice continued, somehow still audible, as if it were one with the tempest. "I don't hate you, Foxpaw. I pity you. It's not your fault to be born under such a large shadow... I know the weight it bears. I know the crushing strength of loss and failure. I know how it feels to have your happiness denied you. That is why I come bearing this warning. I can only hope that someday, before it is too late, you will remember... and you will heed my words."
The chill only grew stronger. Though no condensation was forthcoming, the dry cold snapped in the distance, nearly freezing the leaves solid beneath the two cats' paws. For a moment, the raging winds slowed, as if the frigid air had grown viscous and difficult to move through. A few rays of sun lay on the tops of the most distant trees. When Breezewhisker spoke, his voice sounded less harsh, though still without an ounce of softness. "If you really want to be happy... there might be a way. You could leave. You could find your fortune beyond the forest. Don't engage with the rats and the riffraff. Give up your dreams of glory. You'll leave your family behind, sure, but they are doomed to abandon you anyway. Might as well leave them first. It is the only choice you can take in the matter. Defy your destiny. You could find a life, out there... where the sun touches the hills." A single breeze fought its way past the now-stagnating, wintry air, bringing unfamiliar scents and a tinge of forgotten warmth. But it was swept away, just as quickly, by a fresh gale of leaf-bare storms. The starry tom's hard yellow eyes narrowed. "But something tells me that you won't take my advice. So take my warning, instead. In the very moment that you reach out towards the light, all will bleed into darkness. The very thing that now gives you pride will someday be your undoing."
Whatever sunlight there had been vanished as some nameless source of light sunk far below the trees. As the storm intensified, the darkness of the sky held no moon, no stars. Nothing to latch onto. The ground froze harder, becoming almost an entire unified sheet of ice as the winds blew strongly, forcing Foxpaw away even as he turned to leave. But for one last moment, Breezewhisker caught the apprentice's eye. His warning, unheeded or not, had been given. He had done what he could. One slow blink took in the helpless case before him, and he let out a quiet sigh that might as well have been one of the breezes that threatened to break down the trees.
"My name is Breezewhisker. I'll see you again soon."
And with that, the storm blew strong enough to level the forest, and the dream collapsed.
