Clan of Sunlit Prairies ; A Collaborative Effort

Below is every single reply as they would appear in a book-like format since the very beginning of the clan's launch. This story is special, in the way that all of this may not have ever even began, and it came very close multiple times to reaching such a fate. For whatever reason this story kept drawing me back, and I've never been so proud. I'm honored to work alongside the amazing writers who have joined to help make this clan a reality, and for that I thank you. I hope you find this as genuinely exciting as I do. 
Here is a love letter to Sunlit Prairies, for everything that took place to lead up to it's creation, and all the wonderful young writers who helped support and help this clan thrive. I couldn't have done any of this without you.
~ Silk
The story takes place 2 moons into Dawnstar's leadership, starting directly after the prologue, which begins us in during Acacialight and Tarragonglaze's first introductions to the clan, as young kits. Every interaction will be shuffled in "timeline order" under my own belief of how this would place out, had it been stitched together as a story. Take this with a grain of salt for that matter, as well as the names I've chosen for individual scenes. Each cat that is noted for the writing to belong to is the owner of the writing. I am taking no claim over it. The wiki is providing this to you as a means for keepsake only, and no ownership is being taken over anything shown, none of the cats, and none of the designs, art or otherwise, of the cats taken below. The owner of each is credited per respective page of the cats, who are linked in each chapter. Thank you, and enjoy.
== The Clan of Sunlit Prairies, The Era of Ascension. ==
=== Prologue ===
Setting: Various, considered a "flashback." Takes place over multiple seasons.
Time of day: Varying.
Dawnstar: (Flashback)
Vibrant, yellow and amber hues shone through the enchanting meadow that morning. Soft murmurs echoed throughout, bouncing off the minimal trees and pooling into the ears of any who chose to come near. Bright heather swayed around them, tails swishing alongside it. The gentle mutters of cats were drowned out as familiar birds sang their welcoming song, and the cool breeze entered their lungs. They were home once more. Paw steps crunched trampled tall grass, and a calling aroma filled their mouths. It was that time of the year again, time for a visit. This was the moment Layla had always been waiting for. A strange tradition, yet one that was welcome. Cats across the borders were welcome to celebrate the life of the clan that had moved into the moors so many years ago, and anyone was welcome as long as you made a toast to the superior, the cat who made everything possible, Silkstar. Layla bowed her head. She was a dusty brown rosetted bengal, her eyes a sharp and narrow green. Her legs were long and her scent was heavy, diluting out any of the other scents she carried with her. She was a welcome visitor, always providing gifts and offerings to the clan in exchange for time off her role as a house cat, time to bask in the sunlight and hunt, just like a real cat should. She always had enough of being groomed, tugged on, and looked at in the bright lighting of those shows every year, and couldn't wait for the opportunity to meet with her dear friends. She'd been doing it since she was young, and her two-legs became used to it over sometime, as long as she came back often for a snack. But this season, the urgency to leave her home was much stronger, an aching desire pressured her to move on, her paws ached to run along the moors once more. She left earlier than usual, this time catching up to the usual crowd who came along. Fellow kittypets who lived nearby her home, as well as several rogues who visited every other warm season. 
"I can't wait for the festival!" One of the younger cats exclaimed. It was one she didn't recognize this time around, perhaps a newcomer with her parents. "I wonder what kind of kibble they'll have to share with us!" 
"That's the fun part, they don't have any!' A tom cat responded. Both chimed excitedly for a brief moment, before they broke apart to exchange conversation with another. Silently, Layla kept on. It was always a great time, the festival. It wasn't exactly named until recently, but it had been the same since she was a kitten. A fiery gathering, one where cats were welcome to bring gifts, exchange conversations, and even bring items from their home to teach one another about their culture, it was something Layla was used to. She never brought anything to share until today, one share she'd never be able to let down. 
"How long until we're there, mama?" Squeaked a tiny voice behind the brown molly. The young bengal turned to face the other, whose eyes gleamed brighter than the sun's own. Excitement itched from ear tip to tail tip, it was clear from her shivering voice. 
"Not long, Acaciakit." Layla responded. Unlike any other cat in the crowd, Layla had chosen a clan like name for her youth, though only she knew why. 
Collars jingling, the crowd of felines approached the high hill, and peered across the open moors towards the large gaping stretch of dusty land the clan cats called camp. 
"Welcome, everyone, to the Clan of Sunlit Prairies." Layla heard small voices gasping around her, though she never broke her gaze from the wide place they called home. All the freedom a cat could ask for, everything they've ever known, was a wide open beautiful land that welcomed any possibility. No higher force that made her decision of a mate, no higher force that took their kits away when they got old enough to move on. All these other cats... They're all naive. She wanted to say aloud. At any moment, out of their own sick desire, they'll rip that little life from your paws. You'd be lucky if you ever saw them again, if alive. She shut her eyes tight.
"Whoa! They get all this land to themselves?" 
"And the forest! Do they own the forests too?" 
"It's so big! I wish I could live here forever!" It was unlike the clan cats to invite a visitor to stay as one of them. If anything, they'd plead for you to leave. It was something their system could not have, a breach in their operation. One kittypet could ruin a hunt, just by their jingly collar alone. One wrong move could send a tunnel collapsing atop their clanmates, one ill piece of prey could wipe out all the kits. It was something they were unprepared for, and something the visitors were knowing of. Layla had seen her fair share of cats begging to stay with them, only to learn the hardships of hunting with one patrol. Those cats usually never came back to visit after that. She lowered her head to catch her breath, it had taken her a moment to realize that the group had moved on without her, and the only cats who sat waiting were her two kits. 
"Tarragonkit, dear.. Doesn't it look lovely here?" She meowed coolly. "What do you think about staying here?" 
"I don't think about staying here." The male meowed. His spots, while darker than Layla's own, were a dusty brown shade, his pelt nearly red in the sunlight, a hard contrast to his sister, who was almost a pale snow. Her back was mixed with different hues of creamy gold, while her spots were pale against her face. 
"I do, mama!' Acaciakit responded. Her eyes glowed a beautiful blue-green coloration, her tail sticking up high in the air like a waving stinger. 
"She didn't ask you." Tarragonkit muttered under his breath. Layla frowned. It was not something that would be easy to adjust to, that was for sure. Going from being fed on a scheduled diet, foods that could be described as simply slop and rabbit droppings, to starving for possible days on end if no good catches may be made. What they did in the rain was an answer she was never given, as she'd only heard of the shelters hidden deep within their territory, rain didn't fall during the warm seasons, not often enough. She placed her paw against her collar to keep the bell from ringing too much as she began to descend, her strides long and meaningful. Behind her, she heard Acaciakit squeal with excitement as she rolled down the hill, Tarragonkit joining beside her, their giggles ringing as far as the Farseer's Mantle. Layla couldn't bug them about it, though. She remembered doing all the same things when she was just a bit older. Her soothing purrs soon turned into a unmatched anxiety, her chest tightening hard. The smells, the warning radiance that beamed off each clan cat, she could hear their welcoming purrs from here. Perhaps this wasn't the smartest idea.. She shut her eyes tight. The sweet smell of rabbit hit her like a sharp bullet, and instantly she felt the need to vomit. What a happy day, I'm supposed to be excited! But will this really be the best decision for them? 
"Whoa, whoa! Slow down, little kits, what are your names?" A familiar voice began. Layla felt her anxiety suddenly slow, she recognized that voice! 
"They're named Tarragon and Acacia." Layla began, taking a swift step forward. The two kits had nearly thrown themselves head first into the gathering, without even greeting the host. Her dear friend and the deputy of Sunlit Prairies, a tom named Applebreeze. His gaze was a cool amber, his pelt soaking in all the light it could take and diluting the dark orange patches he once had. One of the familiar faces she was always pleased to see, he never steered her wrong. 
"Ooh, Layla! It's great seeing your pretty face around here again!" Applebreeze began. "Get over here, let me clean that heather from your fur..." His voice was so calm and inviting, Layla felt as if she could collapse into his paws at any moment. He had always been the life of the clan, and though he was older than her, she felt she'd grown up with him as a close friend. He smiled eagerly and pulled her close to groom her velvety back.
"Eww, gross! Can't you two do that later?" Acaciakit complained. But Layla couldn't help but smile. 
"In the clans, my dear... They groom one another as a greeting. Now here, take these before you run along." Both kits bowed their heads to take on a bright, sweet scented flower, one that was given to each and every cat to let all the clan cats know who they were. There were different colors for each visitor, for the rogues, the loners, the kittypets, and even a darker, much different flower for the senior members, those who visited each year. She placed them neatly into their soft fur before tapping their haunches.
"Move along, now." 
"Okay, mommy! C'mon, Tarragonkit! Let's see if any of the big cats want to play 'tail on the dog!'" Layla felt her heart pierce with a sudden shock wave of mixed emotions, fear, horror, anything a cat may feel. She felt Applebreeze's hot breath against her shoulder grow heavier as he moved in closer. Suddenly, all sounds drowned out from her senses. And like that, whatever illusion I thought I made was shattered. 
"Layla..? Is there something you want to tell me?" He asked her suddenly. Wide wide and fur spiked along her spine, the molly refused to face him. 
"It's just.. It feels more natural, that's all." 
"No, no it doesn't. You know it doesn't feel more natural. Why did you give them clan names?" His voice was soft. She felt lost, and almost couldn't help but ignore his gentle words. Closing her eyes tight, the molly gaped open her jaw to suddenly gasp out the words she tried to hide all throughout the two months they'd been with her. 
"I want them to be raised here." She suddenly meowed. Her gaze shot towards Applebreeze's own, and quickly, the tom began to purr. "I want them to stay here, where I know they can't be taken away from me, where they'll be safe." 
"And you? You'll be staying with them, right?" The tom cooed. Anxiety struck her veins. How do I tell him? 
"I'm not sure I can." She muttered. Immediately, she noticed his smile falter. "It's not that I want to leave them alone, it's just.. What if my two-legs come looking for me, and end up capturing every cat in the clan? What if I take them home and they.." Her voice cut off into a desperate mew. Applebreeze, who had listened contently, began leaning against her shoulder, his tail wrapped neatly around her flank. 
"I understand your fears, but won't it hurt?" Applebreeze replied, his voice was cool and silky as he prodded at her gently. 
"Of course it will hurt, it will hurt more than anything I've ever had to deal with before, but... I don't feel like I have a choice in the matter, not anymore." She simply sighed. "Besides, the father of them..." 
"Who is it?" Applebreeze's eyes lit up in the bright sunlight. Layla kept her gaze shielded from his own, despite how desperately she wished to sink into his warm, creamy fur and strong muscles. 
"He's another Bengal, one of the cats from the shows." She muttered quickly. "I wish so badly it could be different, but I had no choice... I wish I'd just.." 
"It's fine, I get it." Applebreeze muttered. He tucked himself under her chin and allowed himself to sink against her chest. She'd never realized her height until that moment, that time Applebreeze sunk into her fur. His scent clogged her nostrils and quickly she felt at ease. "You didn't have an option when it came to that." His voice was cool, mellow and somewhat short. It seemed he was bothered, even if only slightly. She wrapped her tail around his body.
"Maybe if I asked to join last year, things would be different." She murmured, her chin resting atop his head. She let her eyes shut briefly, allowing the pain to ebb away. 
"Even if they are not my own, I will still take care of them as if they were if you decide to go through with this." He muttered. "I'll guide them and train them.. They won't forget you." She bit back harsh tears. This decision... It was one she was too fearful to face. How could she leave her kits behind, expecting the clan cats to raise them when she felt she could not? The decision weighed hard in her belly like harsh stones, pinning her to the ground. Slowly, she pressed her cheek against his head. 
"Thank you." The quiet moment between the two was quickly cut off as cats of all ages began cheering eagerly, their eyes wide as the sun began to shine bright from behind the clouds. 
"Silkstar is upon us!" One of them yowled. Her scent was washed out quickly as the warmth of the sun baked into her fur, and quickly, she felt her ears fill with the life her friends had to offer once more. All together, cats began cheering happily, allowing their voices to ring far across the meadows for any cat nearby to hear. And quickly, a familiar face peeked from within her den, her purr beginning to rise over each and every cat's voice as she called for the beginning of the festival. 
"Silkstar once more has shown us her approval, and now we may begin." It was marvelous, as it always had been. No cat was disappointed as they scurried to begin all the games the clan offered. Cats began sunbathing, and enjoying talking about all the differences that separated each and every cat. It was familiar, and all too exciting. Layla felt her fur begin to flatten against her body. Applebreeze had moved on to pass out prey to each and every cat he could, giving time for Layla to settle in on her own. The common tradition, of a feast for the travellers and the welcoming of each and every cat was so kind by nature, but felt so sour in that moment. My kits... Will they be forced by their clanmates to push themselves to their limits hunting for other cats who hardly appreciate it? She felt her frown grow heavy. And what if.. What if they're harmed during their hunts, and are forced to become a Gardener? Her face grew cold at the idea. She turned to face the spot where the Gardeners usually rested, all grouped up and eager to teach young kits about their job in the clan. While a wonderful edition, she still felt that each Gardener knew exactly what they were, and that was almost useless to the clan otherwise. Like Petalplum, a familiar calico. She was missing part of her hind leg after she broke it falling from a high structure, and lost it days later in a bear trap when she was only an apprentice. She was always optimistic about her life, like any cat should be, but there was always something that told Layla that she was sad about her failure to become a Sentinel. Her eyes shifted to where she lay, curled up and sorting different seeds used to plant things such as dandelions and certain sweet treats such as apples. Her gaze was so caught up in her work she hardly noticed two young tabby kits that watched over her with bright eyes, their maws open wide to stammer out any question they could imagine asking her. Layla could hardly overhear from where she sat.
"Did it hurt when you fell from such a height?" One of them asked. 
"Yeah, and a bear trap! I've only heard about them. How big are they?" The only mewed. Petalplum softly smiled, before attempted to shoo them away with her front paw, and only then did she see that the molly was plump, and clearly beginning to develop the first signs of kits. Layla softened. Perhaps this clan is not all that bad. She thought carefully. If a cat as deeply saddened as Petalplum could find love, then surely her own two kits would have no problem. Right? Her thoughts slowly began to drain from her mind as the lively clan cats began inviting her to engage in conversation about her life, as well as how the clan had been running since she last saw them. She was somewhat popular among the clan cats, they always were excited to speak with her about every aspect of her life, as if being a show cat was something they'd never heard of. Can I blame them? They live their lives here, in their own personal spotlights. The only thing I have to myself is my two-legs. No other cats to care for me, no sense of pride in myself whenever I accomplish something. Being a kittypet is... It's miserable. She rolled back on her haunches and forced a smile. 
Quickly, she became overwhelmed as cats began greeting her, the deputy, nurses, and even queens had come up to listen to her stories as if she was an elder telling to young kits. How friendly! She always thought. She felt so awkward, these cats on a different world entirely thought she of all cats was interesting! Who could believe that? The festival began to slow as the cooler days began to near. Drizzles became more frequent, and even one foggy entered the territory, giving great time to any of the kits who had never seen it before, but a good deal of stress to the apprentices who had the task of finding them. The time spent was wonderful, but her belly began to ache. Her kits were ecstatic, and Applebreeze had proven to be a cat of his word. He kept them occupied while Layla slept in the Tourist's den. She appreciated all his help, but she couldn't help but cringe as she asked her kits about going home. 
"What? That place? It's so boring there! Can't we stay here with Applebreeze and Cinderspots?" She'd heard Acaciakit cry. Cinderspots, who was Applebreeze's younger sister, had been teaching them all the information she could about being a Tunneler without taking the kits down below the Earth. She was obviously proud of her rank, and as much as she wanted to, Layla couldn't allow her to take her kits below the Earth. The endless tunnels bet on nothing but danger, and the idea of one collapsing on her dear kits was traumatic to her. She felt her fur bristle along her spine. They seemed so excited, so genuinely happy to be here... She couldn't bare the thought of bringing them back. They'll be taken from me! I might never see their tiny little faces again. But of course, even this was difficult. Saying goodbye had always been one of the hardest things for the molly. She sucked in warm air as she ducked her head out of the Tourist's den, her kits fresh on her mind. She wasn't shocked they took a few heartbeats to notice her and run over, they had become so occupied with Applebreeze and his kin that it was normal for them to forget about her, and she was glad that was the case. 
"Mama, mama! Applebreeze said he might take us hunting today! Isn't that cool?" Acaciakit began, her tail lashing excitedly. Layla's smile faltered. It's almost dawn... I think it's time to move on, and get this over with. "Won't you come watch?" 
"I can't, Acaciakit." Layla sighed. The molly reached down to touch noses with the small kit, just as her darker spotted son padded close to her.
"Why not?" Acaciakit mewed. "Aren't you excited we get to learn to be like clan cats? Applebreeze even said-" 
"I don't think I can be a clan cat." She muttered half under her breath. She shot Acaciakit a sorrowful gaze, noticing her daughter falter slightly. How am I supposed to tell them?
"Sure you can." Tarragonkit meowed. "Applebreeze said any cat with legs as long as ours can be clan cats, he even said that-" 
"No, Tarragonkit. That's not all being a clan cat is." She snapped. Her voice began to falter. "It's about having the strength inside you to protect your clan with your life, and be ready to face any painful challenges head on.. It's not just about who can run the faster or who can win the fight." She replied, her tail beginning to twitch. Sun began to bake into her fur, but she ignored it. "I'm too old to become a clan cat, but you two can." She quickly stated. "You two will stay here, and I'll go back home with the two-legs." She hadn't noticed their expressions until she finished what she said. Acaciakit was beginning to lean towards her, her big blue eyes wide and tear-filled. Tarragonkit had a heavy frown, his brow narrowed harshly, they looked as if she'd just betrayed them. "I-itll be great, you'll have Applebreeze to look after you both, and-" 
"So you're just gonna leave us here?" Tarragonkit whimpered. "Petalplum said any cat who left her kits was a coward, a coward and would be shunned by all the clans!" Ouch. Layla's own voice echoed in her head. The molly opened her mouth to continue. 
"It's not that I want to leave, it's just that-" 
"What? You had this all planned, I know you did! I heard you telling Applebreeze you didn't want us." 
"That's not what-" 
"It's true, isn't it? You're abandoning us!" Acaciakit spoke up, Tarragonkit echoing behind her. Cats had now begin collecting around them, glancing outside their dens in alarm as the kits began to raise their voices. Layla quickly bit down on her lip. 
"No, no please, just understand where I'm coming from!" She whimpered. Oh Starclan, help me! As if on command, she watched as Applebreeze stepped forward, ushering the kits away. She almost wanted to beg them to stay, but she could see the fur rising on their spines as they padded from her, Acaciakit's own dejected sigh audible from where she was. Layla lowered her gaze. 
"It's time to go." He muttered half heartedly. "Let's move on." She lowered her gaze in shame as she padded from the camp, Applebreeze's own concerned expression telling her just what he meant to do. He reached out his tail to rest it on her flank as they padded out of camp. "What was that all about?" 
"I told them they would be staying here, with you and Cinderspots." She mewed, her voice crackling. She refused to face the tom, choosing to let the bell around her neck jingle loudly. Applebreeze took in a heavy sigh. 
"Is that really what you want though?" He replied, his gaze attempting to meet her own. "I know the happy Layla, the smart and easy going Layla wouldn't want to abandon what she loves to strangers she hardly knows." He beckoned her closer with his tail, allowing her to lean against his shoulder. "I can tell you're troubled by this... Why won't you stay?" 
"I'm not fit for clan life, no kittypet is. Valleystar has said it herself." Layla pressed, her voice squeaking as if she were only a kit once more. "I don't think I'm strong enough to survive out here, I'm just as weak as a dog." 
"C'mon, Layla. You know that's not true.." He mewed, his voice gentle as he pressed his paw against her spine. "Besides, I think you're a great fit for the clan." 
"Why do you think that?" Her voice teetered between a soft squeak and a harsh sigh. "Because I'm tall?" 
"No, because you have the heart of a clan cat." He explained. "You're strong, independent, and can make up your mind faster than I can. I've seen you attempt to hunt, and it's better than I've seen any other cat do. Your passions... You have what it takes, I promise." Applebreeze purred. He allowed her to tense against his shoulder. "You know, one day I'm sure you could even become leader if you wanted. You're one of the best cats I know." 
"Thanks but.."
"You should really consider it, please." The tom murmured. "How many kits will you need to leave us with before you realize that two-legs are only using you?" Applebreeze's voice grew cold and serious. "How many days will you spend just wishing you got to choose your mate?" 
"The rest of my life." She replied with a shutter. He's right. He always is.. 
"Please, Layla. Talk to Valleystar about it, I'm sure she'll welcome you with open paws." Layla sat staring at him for a brief moment, her tongue growing dry in her mouth. Is it the heat? I feel so dizzy.. She touched her chest to make sure her heart was still beating. The fate of the clan may be determined by my two-legs.. What if they come find them, trap them all and take them away? What if they harm me or my kits? Is me being here too... Dangerous? "Won't you ask her?" He repeated, shaking her from her thoughts. The molly sighed, before breaking the silence with a small twitch of her tail against his side, causing him to purr. 
"I shouldn't." She replied at last. "Don't you understand? What if they find me here and..." 
"Yeah, I get it. It's fine, really." Applebreeze huffed. "Well... You know the way back. I pray Silkstar light your path." He replied, before padding away, leaving her staring after him. Is that really what I want though? She thought. And if so, why does it hurt so bad? 
She'd spent most of the morning staring, imagining life without her kits, life after she returned. Her two-legs, feeding her the same slop they did as a "treat," or otherwise dry pellets. She curled her lip in disgust. I got so used to eating hare that it's almost unbearable to think about not having it! But visiting will come year round... It shouldn't be so bad. The molly began to rise to her paws. It's for the safety of the clan. She waved goodbye with her tail, and silently, she set off. Her ears flicked back against her head and her gaze flicked back across the moor, as if it was torture for her to move on. 
This is not truly what I want. She thought with a painful sigh. I don't want to move on. But she kept moving. Her paws felt weighed by stone, her brow heavy across her face, her frown growing heavier as time progressed. I don't want to imagine a life without them. I don't want to... She bit back a sudden sob. I can't do this. The molly raised her head. I can't leave my kits... She thought. The pain in her heart grew too strong, the stinging in her paws that itched for her return. I should've changed my mind a long time ago. She pondered the consequences momentarily before breaking into a sprint. Acaciakit, Tarragonkit... I won't let you down! It had begun to feel like years since she'd first broken off and begun running back to the clan, her paws slow to her as she ached to move faster. As she broke towards the clan, she only just began to notice half the clan had moved on already, beginning their tasks for the day. She could no longer scent her kits. I wish they were here to see this... I wish they knew how much this may cost us. She sighed before ducking her head into Valleystar's den. She found the molly resting, her head neatly tucked upon her paws and her long pale brown and cream fur neatly groomed. Her tail was curled around her flank, and her eyes heavy with drooping eye bags. It seemed she'd been up for multiple days, and Layla almost felt saddened to wake her. But before she could reach the molly, she raised her head. 
"Layla, I thought you'd left already?" Valleystar cooed. "Is there trouble? You look as if you sprinted the whole way here." Is it that obvious? Layla sighed, before realizing she'd hunched over, her tongue waggling out of her maw as she searched for air. This is it, my life changes from this moment onwards. Here goes nothing... 
"I wish to join Sunlit Prairies." 
"Let all cats old enough to hunt beyond the tall grass meet beneath the high ledge for a clan meeting." 
It had been many seasons since that festival, and it was coming time again to grant new kittypets, loners, and rogues alike the joys of the great tradition. 
"Acaciapaw, please step forward." 
Many tragedies have struck the clan since then. I never imagined how difficult it would really be. 
"Do you promise to uphold the Warrior Code, even at the cost of your life?" 
"I do." 
A battle with wild coyotes had stripped many lives from us. Applebreeze was the most notable of them all, but he was not the only casualty. I was granted my full name that day, that day I fully left my past behind. I never imagined how hard it would be... How traumatic it was to lose such a dear friend. He died in my paws. 
"Then by the power of Starclan and the guidance of Silkstar, I, Dawnstar, grant you your new name. From this moment forward, you will be known as Acacialight, for your uplifting spirit in the midst of trouble, and your quick thinking during battle." 
I was named Dawnspark, for my quick movements during the fight. Valleystar even acknowledged my talents for the council. She had become very dear to me. 
"Tarragonpaw, please step forward." 
I had become deputy as I grew more popular among the Sentinels, though my ideas never changed. I respected the Warrior Code throughout my entire life, and I still manage to uphold it today. 
"From this moment on, you shall be known as Tarragonglaze. May Starclan light your path." 
"Acacialight! Tarragonglaze! Acacialight, Tarragonglaze!" 
She passed due to greencough, and her kits were too ill to take my place. Today, I stand upon this high ledge. No longer as a weak kittypet, but as Dawnstar, and I will lead this clan to success.
=== Moon One ===
Clearing, Midday. Very beginning of Newleaf, the beginning of the Festival of the Springtide. The sky is clear and the weather is warm.
Dawnstar:
Bright, bathing beams of light filtered through woven bundles of heather. Sweet fragrances drifted through the air and danced upon the breeze as the warmth and pride of sunlight baked upon the flat floor of the Clan of Sunlit Prairies' camp. Following through a wide, open stretch of varying meadows flourished into a flattened mound of ground, decorated ever so carefully to enhance the Earth's natural beauty. The atmosphere was unlike any other, so full of hope and excitement. From the sound of chatty, excitable kits to the dancing pawsteps of apprentices pouncing upon one another in play, this morning was one to be remembered. Soft billowing tall grass flicked upon cat's pelts, brushing them backwards as a patrol returned with an enticing scent of prey, the likes of which may feed the clan for days. Large hares, a small shrew, a fat mouse.
All of the above creatures caught and their lives sacrificed for the better of the clan. To feed her clanmates is the purpose of the Moor-Runner, and each and every day said Moor-Runners proved their strength. With agility and nimble pawsteps, they speed through the moors like a beam of light before killing their prey painlessly and morally. By their code, the cats then thank Silkstar, the great cat who saved them all those months ago, for the life that she welcomed them to take. With open paws they invite her, Silkstar. The molly had blessed the hunting party that evening, blessing them with the grace necessary to help their clan prospere for many more months to come. As the bright light bathed the cats returning, young kits perked upwards, tiny fluffy tails bushy in the light, breaking the beams into several forms of light and filtering onto the dirt ground. Small paw steps and tiny wails, excited to suckle up the prey the Moor-Runners had caught especially for them. One of the rules of the clan cats, to feed said future before the rest of their clanmates to ensure they flourish. The life of the clan, as tiny as they may be now, were dependent on them. Their lives were crucial to the development of the clan as a whole. They would grow to be fine respectable cats. Twitching her elongated ears, a deep, golden-brown pelt emerged into the basking light. Few cats gazed upon her, their eyes glittery from the great view of prey they'd experienced. They yowled greetings with soft voices, their eyes glowing with pride.
She padded forward, her muscles rippling beneath her pelt. Once a sleek kittypet, glossy and perfumed, now the most respected cat on the moors. Her name was Dawnstar, the shining light of the clan as their respective leader. The paws of which had tread land most cats feared, that of two-leg place. Where monsters crept around every corner, spraying light rays across oily floor and stripping lives from cats with the simple act of ramming into them. Large, winding two-leg dens with vibrant colors, the likes of which held torturous chambers to hold in the cats of the moor. Silkstar had freed them all, and brought them Dawnstar.  Blessing her paws with the speed and grace of the wind, easily flowing her into the system of the clan. Not all cats exactly respected the decision, however they knew leadership was a necessity. There was no other cat that rightfully could take her place when it became time for Dawnstar to step into her role. Now she sat atop the high rock, staring down upon her clanmates. Each birth had been witnessed by her, and their right to live in the clan blessed upon them from that waking moment. The sweet scents now wafted around her as loud purrs grew over the moor, seemingly loud enough to scare away even the largest badger, even Dawnstar joined in.
Her loud purr rose above the confides of camp, flowing with the wind and echoing through the forests that bordered their territory. Gently, the graceful molly argued her back, pulling her paws ahead of her in an elongated stretch, her paws widening and her toes visible in that instant. She clawed the edge of the rock that rose far above her clanmates, sending a light shower of fragments below her. Several kits broke off from the crowd to swipe at the fragments before they hit the ground, tossing them into the crowd. Dawnstar flicked her tail to and fro as her clanmates gathered below, soft voices raising as laughter danced on the wind. They all cared for one another, everything was in perfect harmony. The golden rosetted molly curled her spine before turning her gaze towards a beautiful spot, littered with various flowers and herbs, woven into a beautiful measurement. The scent wafted heavily into the clearing, giving the clan as a whole a strong, sweet scent. Inside she could pick out two voices, two sisters, Woollypaw and Lotuspaw. Dawnstar's whiskers twitched as the two peeked out before giggling, popping back in. Separating them was their older sister, a large, deep brown and white molly with haunting blue eyes. Her gaze show no emotion, which was common for the molly. Her face didn't show any happiness, no excitement. Her gaze was foggy with though, her muzzle twitched with agitation. She swept her sight upon Dawnstar, holding her gaze for a solid few moments, before passing on to another view.
Her ears twitched against her head as she headed through the crowd, her two sisters trailing behind. The two giggled and purred, speaking between themselves. Lavendersnow pulled out prey for them all, before retreating, allowing the veil of shadows to shelter them within, out of sight, out if mind. Much like two kits, the two excitedly bucked up to tug at the prey Lavendersnow held for them, though she moved her head just out of reach for the two until they were fully emerged within the medicine den. Dawnstar twitched her whiskers before rounding her haunches, landing with a thud on the floor of the camp. Her gaze swept over her clanmates as they moved aside for her to catch sight of their hunt. One cat bowed his head as she approached, a young Moor-Runner by the name of Windsear. He was a talented tom, and a respectable one to say the least. Dawnstar lapped him atop his head before nodding at the rest of the patrol. Voices filled her mind as the cats began to dispurse, taking their shares of prey and heading to differing parts of the clearing where they'd conversate and share prey. Dawnstar blinked gratefully at Windsear, before beckoning the tom forward with her tail. Shocked, the tom's gaze glittered, before he followed in suit behind her with swift pawsteps. Dawnstar ducked beneath the woven entrance, held high over the clan cats, paw steps molding the ground to a flat, soft mound as they traveled forward. Windsear stuck back, just a tail length away. Dawnstar swirled her tail with the breeze, lashing it ever so lightly. Windsear copied, checking her movements every few moments to repeat. As he approached, Dawnstar slowly settled just outside of camp, the noises muting as the soft sound of the breeze billowed on. Windsear settled beside her, his haunches twitching as he searched for a spot to settle beside her. Dawnstar held her head high, her body much larger than the young tom, however the two still looked quite intimidating. Their silent gaze swept over the stretch of land they called their home, bright eyes as they awaited an arrival. Dawnstar was the first to speak.
"How was the hunt, Windsear?" her voice was cool and gentle, nothing menacing about it. Windsear cast his gaze upon her, though she stayed staring forward, her ears only twitching when he shifted his paws in the tall grass, the blades crunching beneath him.
"Splendid." Windsear sounded breathless. Dawnstar faced him momentarily, her eyes locked on the moors ahead, before she nodded gently. He clicked his tongue before speaking again, the sound of his tail swishing pridefully in the grass sounding loud and clear to Dawnstar. She stifled a purr as he began to boast. "I caught the two biggest hares you'd ever see! Did... Did you see them?" His gaze swept to Dawnstar, his eyes gently praying she'd look back at him, say yes, of course she saw the impressive prey. Dawnstar nodded gently and let out a gentle purr, her long, thick tail resting on his thin back. He tensed at her touch, but seemed to melt as she opened her maw.
"Of course I did, Windsear. You did a great job, as always." Windsear puffed out his chest pridefully as Dawnstar slid her tail off his spine. He glanced at her, his eyes dancing across her pelt.
"I've never seen kits bounce so high, they must've been... hungry." His nose twitched as he swallowed back a sentence he knew not to say. They must've been impressed. She assumed the prideful tom wanted to purr. As she shut her eyes while nodding, it almost seemed cats over the horizon appeared from thin air. One chubby molly padded ahead of them all, her calico pelt soft and enhanced in the sunlight. At the sight of Dawnstar, the molly seemed to jump for joy. The crowd grew larger and larger as the young calico approached, the sight of the two seeming to easily excite the small kittypet. She sped up, racing towards Dawnstar at a high speed. Dawnstar braced herself as the young cat toppled her right over, slamming her head into the grass as she excitedly purred, her loud bell jingling loudly over the sound of the crowd approaching.
"Cleo-!" Windsear exclaimed. The tom had swept aside as she bowled over Dawnstar, his eyes wide and his smile clear. The molly let out a loud purr as Cleo nuzzled into her neck fur, her tail churning as Dawnstar chuckled. 
"It's so good to see you! It's been so long!" She chirped excitedly, stepping off and brushing grass off of Dawnstar's chest. "How have you been?"
"Great!" Dawnstar cooed as she scrambled upwards, lapping at her paw and swiping it over her ear as Cleo touched her nose to Windsear's own, though clearly out of breath. Her bright eyes cast over Dawnstar then, her ears twitching excitedly. "The feast has already arrived. You all had great timing." Her voice raised above the crowd as familiar faces peeked out at her, young kits and old elders alike, all excited to begin. 
"We wouldn't miss the feast for the world!" She swirled around to face the crowd, her rounded tail flicking endlessly. She cast her gaze between either cat, her smile growing wider and wider. She turned to glance at the cats behind her, her tiny paws kneading the ground with rapid speed as she excitedly exclaimed to them. "You'll get to try rabbit for the first time! Oh dog, it's the tastiest thing ever!" She lulled her head back as she spoke, her bell jingling with the movement. Dawnstar felt her heart thump with excitement. She wouldn't miss the Festival for the world, and she couldn't imagine not hosting the event. The joy felt across the whole territory was unmatched. The Festival made the clan eternal friendships, stronger than any bond any other clan held.
They'd have these cats on their side if anything turned for the worse, that's for sure. Dawnstar purred excitedly, before flicking her tail. She scanned the crowd, her eyes dancing from cat to cat. White pelts, brown pelts, orange, all different types of cats from all different walks of life grouped up before her, excited to see what clan life was all about. Dawnstar bowed her head. I will not disappoint.
She swished her tail, her eyes floating back towards the entrance of the camp. Beside her she felt Windsear purring, his tail swishing as he gratefully bounced beside Cleo, who had turned to tell several cats what the tail signs meant. She was beyond grateful for Cleo. When Windsear was just a 'paw, he'd saved Cleo's life while she was a small kit. He rescued her from the blazing moors after they seared from a fire started by an apprentice who was spiteful of Windpaw.
She was grateful, and promised to return the favor one day. Ever since that day she'd followed the crowd of cats who gathered for the Festival every year, nominating herself as their personal guide, taking in all the information she could about the clan to teach the fellow kittypets and loners alike about the event, and everything the clan had to offer. She was like a mutual friend of all cats, especially the clan. Despite everything, Cleo never seemed to wish to become involved any further with the clan, and no cat was particularly interested in her becoming a full clanmate anyway. She often came off as too happy in the opinion of some. Though Dawnstar never saw her this way, she still respected her decision. She was a great guide, afterall. The young molly bounced on her paws as she followed behind the Bengal molly, her tail held high as she led the cats into camp. Dawnstar backed away to count heads just as several cats stepped forward to offer the visitors flowers, placing them in their fur to remind all cats that they were visitors. Dawnstar nodded, counting each cat individually before letting out a generous purr.
I'm so thankful for this opportunity. I couldn't be happier where I am. I couldn't imagine a better life, not as a kittypet, not as a loner. Leading the clan is where I'm destined to be.
Across camp, a hard gaze seared her pelt. Her gaze lifted momentarily to Lavendersnow, who's blank, uneasy stare seemed to glint with an unusual distaste as more cats streamed past her. Dawnstar offered the molly a smile, only for Lavendersnow to bow her head, her glossy eyes growing colder as she moved away, dipping back deep within her den. How peculiar.
==== Lavendersnow and Lotuspaw ====
Inside the medicine den.
Lotuspaw:
Excitement seared through the body of a young feline as a familiar call sung through the camp, beckoning all cats of Sunlit Prairies to gather together for a feast in the centre of camp. Lotuspaw’s ears pricked as she heard the summon, nudging both Woollypaw and Lavendersnow with anticipation as she waited for her two sisters could finish up their jobs for the day. This was her first clan event, and she was delighted to be a part of the Springtide Festival. The prospect of meeting strange cats from outside the clan without having to show any hostility or driving away. She didn’t really understand the whole “non-clan cats are not welcome in our territory” argument. Her youthful naivety simply told her that she should be welcoming to everyone! What was the point of making enemies when you could have the chance of meeting a new friend instead?
“Hurry up, you two! Let’s go” Her sweetened chirp broke the gentle silence between the three siblings, as she prodded them both gently with a giggle as the three of them approached the exit of the den. Flavoursome scents seemed to flood the camp, only making Lotuspaw’s belly make even louder noises that were muffled by the loud, excitable chatter of the camp. She couldn’t help but notice Lavendersnow’s bland expression, though it wasn’t surprising- her older sister wasn’t usually one for showing much emotion. It didn’t bother Lotuspaw, she cared for both of her sisters too much to ever reprimand them for something so small. She loved Woollypaw and Lavendersnow, no matter what.
Almost as soon as the trio excited the den and approached the huge pile of prey, some of which she had added to herself, swarms of cats seemed to flood into the camp, filling the clearing with new smells. Lotuspaw’s fur prickled with excitement, though she couldn’t help feeling slightly overwhelmed by all of the noise and heightened emotions. She was grateful when Lavendersnow starting leading them both back into the medicine den, the noise soon being muffled by the walls. The young apprentice decided that she would go out and interact later, when everyone had calmed down a little.
As the three nurses began to tuck into their meal, Lotuspaw’s vibrant eyes focused on the more icy ones of her and Woollypaw’s older sister, frowning a little as she noticed her stony silence once more. 
“What wrong, Lavendersnow? Don’t you want to meet all of the tourists? If your nervous, well, uhhh… I’ll look after you! I’ll go and meet them first and then I can bring them to meet you, too!”
Lavendersnow:
Loud, trickling sounds of laughter bubbled around each corner of camp, threatening to consume the trio within it. The woven heather, straw, and long grass walls that held up around the medicine den did not hold off much sound, nor did it shield from very much sight. Lavendersnow's taunting gaze scanned through the walls, catching sight of brightly colored pelts held on fattened frames. She flicked an ear as she buried her muzzle inside the prey she'd brought back to the den. 
Her ears flicked to and fro as she ate, her whiskers twitching with irritation. This wasn't the first Festival she'd attended, though this would be the first she was forced to sit through the entirety of. As the loud voices grew closer to the den, Lavendersnow quickly sat up to block the entrance. She poked her head out momentarily, leaving the prey stranded behind her just outside of her nest, before glaring at a passing apprentice-aged kittypet who began to muzzle his way through. Lavendersnow shot him a daring stare, her pupils in narrow, cold slits. The tom's fur rose on his spine as he quickly moved along, attempting to avoid her gaze by quickly turning his head. Lavendersnow kept her gaze on the tom however, before quietly slipping over tendrils of vines to cover the entrance of the den, blocking the view better than it had been before. The dark pelted feline grunted as she sat back, her twitching nose causing her muzzle to ripple with irritation. Her narrow, ocean gaze grew cooler as she passed a glance to her young sisters, the likes of whom were gazing at her expectantly. Wrinkling her nose and shaking out her pelt, Lavendersnow slowly returned, her thick, wide tail lashing as she departed from the entrance of the den, her wide paws making shallow noise as she tred upon the soft dirt ground.
The den was beautiful, there was no discussion on that front. The wide walls were littered with decorative plants and vines, giving the area a gorgeous atmosphere. Within the den a tunnel system streamed in cool water, giving the den a wide stream in the middle filled with cool, ever-running water. Though it needed to be cleaned often, Lavendersnow usually kept it neat and running smoothly. The water was crisp and delicious, especially to a cat who may feel too ill to get water from the streams on their territory. The den was filled with lovely scents, and any cat who just entered would leave with a lovely aroma to dance and mingle with their normal scent for days to come. Cats like Lavendersnow smelt the strongest of the sweet plants, giving her an earthly, welcoming scent. She stretched a claw out to grip the prey in her paw, before she slowly began to tear it into pieces, being as gentle as necessary as to not destroy the pieces of flesh. The morsels she created she collected in her jaw before placing it at the paws of Lotuspaw and Woollypaw, much like a mother may do for her kits, just small enough that they may not choke.
Lavendersnow had made this a common habit, feeding her sisters. She was used to ripping prey into several pieces to help them swallow the parts easier without them choking. The bloody pieces, as savory as they may be, made Lavendersnow curl her claws in disgust. The image of Dawnstar stung in her mind, the pride and glee on her face, the glow in her eye. The way the sun bathed her muzzle, enhancing her pretty features. Lavendersnow flattened her ears, avoiding Lotuspaw's gaze. She hadn't even truly been aware Lotuspaw was speaking with her. She twitched an ear at the sound, though her head took a few heartbeats to process the noise she'd made. Nervous? I've never felt nervous in my life. She wanted to spew, her nostrils flaring. If any cat should be nervous it would be that little ginger tabby. One pawstep in here and I'd have ripped his tail off and fed it to him.
She swayed in her nest, her haunches twitching as she rose her head, light scraps of fur hanging from her bloody muzzle. She lapped at it, swallowing the blood in an instant. The sweet flavor rolled and danced on her tongue, bringing comfort to the molly. Though she didn't eat often, she did quite enjoy the taste of prey. She just felt it more necessary that her sisters ate before her, that was all. Lavendersnow tucked her thick tail beside her, curling the tip beneath her belly. She felt her ears begin to burn and her nose flare once more. Her eyes flicked from the wall of the den to the entrance, her ears twitching with each noise. The sounds were overwhelming. Is it necessary we do this every few seasons? Lavendersnow found herself asking, despite knowing the answer to her question already. I can't handle the thought of rogues ruining my supplies.
She rose her head to gaze at Lotuspaw once she noticed her sister's pleading gaze. She furrowed her brow only slightly, faking thought.
"Nervous? No, this isn't my first Festival." She replied, her voice cool and relaxed despite her heightened senses. She let her neck fur rest once she felt herself involuntarily bristling as more shadows cast into the den. "I don't need to meet anymore cats, having you two around is enough." Her voice was deep, a croaking tone. She attempted to keep her voice light, though it was laced with bitter irritation. She tried to hide her simple displeasure from her sisters, however it seemed nearly impossible in that moment of time. She allowed her expression to rest once more. "Eat up and you can chat with all the outsiders you want. But fill your belly before you do anything." Her tone was loving now, her paw pointing at the morsels in front of Lotuspaw.
Lotuspaw:
Lotuspaw’s dust-hued pelt seemed to still be fuzzed up with excitement from the glance that she’s gotten at the Tourists, and she apparently couldn’t wait to go out and meet all of her new friends. She didn’t seem to understand her sister’s hostility towards them, and shot an apologetic gaze towards the young tom as Lavendersnow snapped at him. 
“You know, there’s nothing wrong with being nice for once. Just because they’re not me or Woollypaw, doesn’t mean that you have to be mean!” Lotuspaw’s optimism was almost sickening at times, but the naive young apprentice couldn’t help but assume the best in every cat she met. 
“Who knows, you might even make new friends!” Her whiskers seemed to twitch a little as she noticed the older Nurse’s absent expression when she first spoke, and it was clear that she hadn’t really registered what she said at first. She’d noticed it was something that Lavendersnow did a lot, though she didn’t mean it in a malicious way, at least not when it came to herself and Woollypaw. 
Lotuspaw could only assume that it was something to do with what her sister had gone through before. Though she barely knew the details, she at least knew that the oldest of the three had not had a good past at all. Lavendersnow had taken in Lotuspaw and Woollypaw as kits, when the trio’s parents had began to distance themselves for the two kittens. There was really no other option other than them being taken to the clan and looked after by their oldest sister, which Lotuspaw admitted couldn’t have been easy. That’s why she always treated Lavendersnow with patience and kindness- as she had done when she was nursing the two of them. It was amusing how the Nurse still had a habit of tearing prey into pieces for them. Lotuspaw would never admit it, but she actually enjoyed being babies a little- it made her feel safe and loved. She gratefully pushed her muzzle into the ripped morsels, lapping them up with her raspy tongue and chewing them slowly before swallowing them, relishing the multiple flavours that danced through her mouth and threatened to overload her taste buds. When Lavendersnow declined the request she wasn’t surprised, though she couldn’t help be slightly disappointed. She knew that her sibling wasn’t the most social feline, but she at least wanted her to make an attempt. 
“Well then, if I or Woollypaw make a new friend, promise you’ll at least try and be nice to them?” Her tone was as optimistic and hopeful as ever as she blinked her wide eyes at the older molly, in an attempt to win her over. Either way, she loved her sister, and would never pressure her into doing something that she really had no interest in doing.
Lavendersnow:
The filtered light flickered and crest upon fur tufts as the thick pelted feline outstretched her body before curling her tail around her flank. She rose to her paws, her ears flicking to and fro as she gazed down at the two apprentices, making an effort to not bash her head against the ceiling of the den as she rose to a halt. Her neck was craned just enough to see the two of them clearly, her blue eyes pasty with little emotion as they scarfed down morsels of prey. Lavendersnow couldn't help but suppress a light mew of satisfaction as she watched Woollypaw lap and slurp up her morsel, with Lotuspaw ringing her tongue around her tight muzzle to catch a scrap that sprayed over her bridge. Lavendersnow placed her paws gently beneath her, her spine twitching as she gazed gently at the two, Lotuspaw's pleading expression somewhat amusing to the molly as she allowed her eyes to glitter and shine. Lavendersnow flexed her claws and craned her spine, allowing the pain to ease once more. (edited)
The molly had terrible posture due to her requirement to stay hunched over so often, her eyes foggy with pain often times from the kinks in her back where muscle was often pinched. The molly seemed to enjoy stretching, flexing her paws and slicing the air as she stretched out her entire body. She didn't take up much room in her nest usually, unless it came to suppressing the pain. Often times she'd nearly take up 1/5th of the whole medicine den by herself, with her paws reaching for the walls of the den. The den was massive, making it less irritating that the molly required these moments to fix her back. If she had still been a Sentinel, it was realistic that the molly could take up half the den with her stretch and then some. The dens of the other ranks were not very large, though they were very warm. That was a luxury the medicine cats did not have.
She rose to her paws, her ears flicking to and fro as she gazed down at the two apprentices, making an effort to not bash her head against the ceiling of the den as she rose to a halt. Her neck was craned just enough to see the two of them clearly, her blue eyes pasty with little emotion as they scarfed down morsels of prey. Lavendersnow couldn't help but suppress a light mew of satisfaction as she watched Woollypaw lap and slurp up her morsel, with Lotuspaw ringing her tongue around her tight muzzle to catch a scrap that sprayed over her bridge. Lavendersnow placed her paws gently beneath her, her spine twitching as she gazed gently at the two, Lotuspaw's pleading expression somewhat amusing to the molly as she allowed her eyes to glitter and shine. Lavendersnow flexed her claws and craned her spine, allowing the pain to ease once more. The molly had terrible posture due to her requirement to stay hunched over so often, her eyes foggy with pain often times from the kinks in her back where muscle was often pinched. The molly seemed to enjoy stretching, flexing her paws and slicing the air as she stretched out her entire body. She didn't take up much room in her nest usually, unless it came to suppressing the pain. Often times she'd nearly take up 1/5th of the whole medicine den by herself, with her paws reaching for the walls of the den. The den was massive, making it less irritating that the molly required these moments to fix her back. If she had still been a Sentinel, it was realistic that the molly could take up half the den with her stretch and then some. The dens of the other ranks were not very large, though they were very warm. That was a luxury the medicine cats did not have.
To warm cats they brought them to the upper part of the den, where the three of them ate currently. Beneath them was the more commonly used nests for the medicine cats, a hole dug beneath the den by tunnelers with large walls, making it somewhat warm and comfortable for the cats below, though not by much. The large surface area made it difficult for heat to travel very productively. Her ears flicked as she gazed at the tunnel that lead below, her eyes glinting with a slight interest. What if it collapsed? She thought momentarily, her gaze growing icy as the corners of her eyes revealed snowy pupils. Though she didn't have much time to stare before Lotuspaw opened her maw again. She listened slightly, her fuzzy ears twitching with annoyance. She rolled her tongue in her mouth, attempting to swallow back a retort, however it was difficult to prevent this time around. 
"I don't need friends, they disappoint me." Her eyes flashed with knowing as she gazed towards the wall of the den where a tendril hung. She watched it flutter with the light breeze and twitch as shade cast upon it, giving it the illusion of disappearing. Lavendersnow blinked suddenly as Lotuspaw continued, her fur twitching on her flank. "No promises, Lotuspaw." She looked at Lotuspaw with a serious, stern expression. Her nostrils flared as she flicked her tail to and fro, her shoulders hunched. "You already know why we shouldn't trust anyone but kin." Her tone was laced with bitterness, not at Lotuspaw, but directed at something far off. something far out of reach for the two apprentices. Lavendersnow blinked, her eyes flashing with hints of pain as she shrugged away the memories. Her nose twitched as she imagined thorns being forcefully pierced into the flesh, alongside within her pads as her mentor,
Twilightplume, seemingly punished her for no reason. Lavendersnow flattened her ears at the sight of the tom, her claws ripping the moss beneath her anxiously, easily destroying the soft, fuzzy nest. She suddenly blinked back into reality, jumping upwards as she realized what she'd done. She grumbled slightly as she stated at it, her ears flat against her skull as she scooped up the ruined plantation. "We'll need to collect more moss in case some cat gets hurt." She meowed simply as she felt a rising irritation within her chest. The Festival was a common time for the medicine den to be flooded with patients, each of which either twisted their paw attempting to chase rabbits, or cats digging their own holes and dislodging a claw. It wasn't uncommon for any of these occurances, though it was twice as irritating aiding a kittypet more than anything to Lavendersnow. How did they always happen to hurt themselves ten times more than any normal cat?
Peachpurr:
Old friends, awkward acquaintances, new faces, all meandered past the molly with varying degrees of recognition and greetings. The sunlight slid quietly into the bustling, humming camp, tinging every cat’s pelt in a golden gleam. Peachpurr, who was practically glowing in the morning light, sat close to the camp entrance, welcoming the Tourists with a kind smile and a beautiful flower for each and every one of them. By now, the molly was a well-known friend to many of the regular Tourists. Her gentle voice was laced through with a purr, she’d been looking forward to today for so long. There was no denying that the Festival of the Springtide was the she-cat’s absolute favorite time of the year. She’d been up since dawn again not only enjoying the twitter of the morning birdsong, but also helping to collect and sort the flowers to be given to the guests later that day. 
“Welcome! enjoy your stay,” she mewed to yet another newcomer, one she didn’t know this time, as she expertly and carefully decorated his pelt with blossoms. All the while as she did this, her icy blue eyes were darting across the sea of pelts still filing through the entrance, looking for one pelt in particular. She knew it was unlikely, Pomegranate had told her at the last Festival that she was expecting kits. The news still brought a fresh wave of happiness and excitement each time Peachpurr thought about her sister’s last visit. So it was only logical that Pomegranate would stay at the barn this year, to raise her kits. Still, the Siamese couldn’t help but hope that her littermate would make the journey for her kits to meet their aunt and see Clan life. She herself hadn’t found any time at all these past few seasons to take a few days off and visit her old home to see the new additions to her family, however much she desperately wanted to. Perhaps Radish would show up this time around if Pomegranate couldn’t? The medicine cat hummed to herself thoughtfully, Radish hadn’t visited for awhile, usually it was just Pomegranate by now. A sigh slipped from the molly’s chest, oh well, the Festival was wonderfully exciting even if her sister didn’t visit this time. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. 
Peachpurr was pulled back into reality, realizing she’d been zoning out again, when her round eyes caught onto an orange tabby wandering just a little too close to the medicine den. Unease rippled through her soft pelt as the Clan’s Nurse, Lavendersnow, appeared at the entrance, freezing the kittypet with an ice-cold glare. Hastily spinning away and hurrying off, Peachpurr noticed with sympathy how the ginger tom’s fur bushed up. The medicine cat quickly busied herself with welcoming another cat, not wanting to be caught watching, and thankfully Lavendersnow ducked back into the den without a word. The flame-point didn’t realize how tense she’d been until her muscles began relaxing once more. She’d never quite been able to pinpoint what about the current Nurse made Peachpurr so uneasy, maybe it was her lack of any expression or emotion most the time. Or maybe that she didn’t seem to care for her Clanmates or healing as much as she should. However, the molly hadn’t been too comfortable with the last Nurse, Twilightplume, either. She’d realized awhile back that the connection of the two to the role of Nurse had made her uncomfortable about the whole rank now. Don’t focus on that right now, Peachpurr flicked an ear, as if flicking away a bothersome fly, focus on here and now. Focus on what you can do. She repeated the mantra to herself a few times, before opening her pale blue eyes again and returning to the beginning of what was supposed to be a joyous festival.
Dusty:
The grand day had finally arrived… Every member of the band was talking amongst themselves eagerly, some mothers carrying young kits in their jaws or letting their older kittens walk alongside them. Fathers paced next to their kin, holding a steady batallion of scarred and sturdy rogues, making sure neither their own kits or outsiders dared to step out of line. And then finally, an outcast. A misfit among them, a tom cat too big to be a kit but too young to take his place among the other fathers. His long golden fur was fluffed out with anxiety, but he tried to hide it with a deep breath and a proud smile. This was it. This was the day he’d been told, over and over by his band, would finally come. Today, he must find his calling. All rogues were solitary by nature, it must be odd to see so many mingling together as one. But this band believed in the unspoken code of the rogues: Once a kit grows large and strong enough to fend for themselves, they must be left alone. Until that day, rogue parents were welcome to raise their young among the band for protection, but all must eventually disperse once their kits were fully grown. He had witnessed it all. Kits being scorned or tormented by their parents, or kits simply left behind, and ignored by the other parents, until they eventually realized they must set out on their own… And then there was Dusty himself. None of these cats in the band had ever been his family. They had all collectively agreed to take him into care after they found the abandoned kit in the forest, but none had ever been a parental figure or guide. Dusty had always been a rogue, never a son. And so when the band had spoke to him about the Festival of Springtide, a time when all were welcomed into the Clan of Sunlit Praries, Dusty knew it was their kindest way of urging him onwards. Whether he chose to stay in this clan or not, it was Dusty’s turn to be cast out alone.
One by one, the members of his band passed through the entrance of the camp, each greeted by a beautiful flamepoint siamese she cat who bowed her head and tucked flowers into their fur. As Dusty approached, she gave him a warm welcoming meow, and carefully adorned his pelt with a stem of beautiful imperial blues, their seeds were sticky and easily clung to his long fur. He purred gratefully in response as he passed by, then glanced around. The camp alone seemed to be as big as the sea… The other members of his band had already quickly disappeared into other sections of the camp, talking with old acquaintances, or introducing their kits. He was left alone, fearful that no one would approach him and not daring enough to approach anyone else. At 8 moons old, Dusty was the oldest he had ever been, but he had never felt so young…
Cottonkit:
The babbling of over-excited felines had swarmed through the walls of the nursery, rudely waking a young kitten as the noise grew louder and louder. Cottonkit stretched out woozily, blinking her dulled eyes a few times to allow the sting of the fresh air die down a little. The little molly stretched out her snowy forelegs and arched her back, loosening her muscles after being curled into a tight ball all night, nose tucked under her paws for comfort as it usually was. As of right now, the kit was alone in the nursery- seeing as no other queens or kittens were present. She didn’t mind the free space - it meant that she didn’t have to worry about waking anyone up if she decided to have one of her fidget sessions in the night. It still felt a little lonely, though, so sometimes she liked to curl her paws and tail around herself as tightly as she could and imagine that she was cuddling with her mama. Cottonkit’s mother had never showed much affection towards her and always seemed to be itching to get away from her daughter and the clan that she was bound to, so she had decided to just up and leave around the time she was a moon and a half. Her memory of her mother was extremely hazy due to her being so young, but sometimes the icy kitten still missed the feeling of cuddling against a warm, milk-filled belly and kneading her paws into the cushiony mama-cat. She’d never understood why she was left behind, but she’d adapted to being motherless quite quickly, and soon found other cats to befriend. Take Lavendersnow for example; Cottonkit had always liked the older feline, and had always secretly watched her train her younger sisters whenever she could. 
As Cottonkit allowed her hazy vision to clear, she sprang to her feet, a burst of excitement searing through her as she finally realised what today was. 
I get to meet new friends! Today was the day where tourists from outside of the clan would come and visit them, a tradition she’d been told happened every few seasons. The little figure hastily pelted it out of her den, sprinting towards the group of cats that had swarmed into the clan. She was so excited that she could almost feel herself floating. 
The first cat who caught her attention was one much bigger than himself, who donned a huge, puffed-out ginger pelt that glowed and flowed almost like liquid gold in the morning sunlight. Cottonkit skidded to a halt in front of the tom, spraying some residue from the floor in the process as she blinked up at him with curiosity. 
“Hi!” She chirped confidently, rising onto her hind paws for a brief second as if to say look! I’m as big as you! The feline didn’t seem to notice the tom’s anxious demeanour as she sniffed him, crinkling her pink nose comically at the unfamiliar scent. “You smell funny!”
Dusty:
The golden furred tom was just beginning to ponder moving on to somewhere else, his paws itching to move somewhere, anywhere but staying here, when suddenly a little white fluffball skidded to a halt in front of him, leaning back on her hind legs to make herself taller. Dusty blinked once, twice, then moved away, giving her a weird glance. Whose kit was this? Where were her parents, or her kin? He stiffened as she didn’t seem to notice his anxiety or aversion, and she continued to sniff at his pelt. “Hey!” He finally snapped, as she mentioned he smelled funny. 
“You smell funny too, you know! You smell like… a pile of flowers… w-wrapped in moss…” He realized quickly that was more of a compliment than an insult, and quickly narrowed his eyes, “𝘞𝘦𝘵 moss and flowers!” He growled, trying to sound more intimidating. His long tail twitched as he glanced around hesitantly, he wasn’t supposed to be talking to this kit at all! After all, she looked to be younger than him, yet old enough to wander around by herself, clearly. Dusty didn’t want her anxious mother or father to come along and swat his ears off for talking to her. If he just ignored her, maybe she’d go away. He snorted in her face, getting up and proudly stalking away, restraining himself from looking back to see if she was following. A secret flicker of hope told him otherwise though, and he couldn’t help but turn around, just a little, just to peek behind his back… Surely she had found her own family by now, right? She couldn’t be as alone as he was…
Tansypaw:
A towering figure sat rigidly just outside the opening to the Trainee’s Den, white mane and underbelly blazing brightly in the slanted morning sunlight that peeked just above the tall grass. Her feathery ginger tail was curled neatly around her large white paws as the she-cat watched with slitted pupils, and clear disinterest, as cats of all colors, shapes, and sizes streamed into camp, making the grass at the entrance wave wildly. She had been up for some time, as usual, had even been out of camp for some early training warm-ups before the sun came up. However, unlike usual, she’d returned with her mentor shortly after, and now sat watching the beginning of the Festival of the Springtide. Tansypaw had heard much about it of course, every cat seemed so excited and wistful whenever the subject came up, but the apprentice had never quite understood the allure of it all. Her Clanmates stepped forward to decorate the newcomers in flowers and greetings, as the ginger and white trainee watched on with envious green eyes. It wasn’t so much that everyone’s attention was focused solely on the Tourists, no it wasn’t that at all, Tansypaw told herself, but why should the new cats get to wear pretty flowers? Giving a quick glance down at her own flower-strewn pelt, the apprentice’s tail started twitching back and forth irritatedly. It was something she’d only started doing three moons ago, but it felt like her signature look. Grunting, she flicked her gaze away from the scene, wanting to come to other thoughts. I wonder where Bloompaw is right now? With her large stature it was easy to peer over the tops of most cat’s heads as she searched the crowd for her sister’s cream-gray pelt. Worry began itching her pads as her eyes scanned futilely.
The ringing and jingling of bells bombarded the molly’s ears, somehow managing to overpower the clamor the new guests made as they streamed into her home and drew her back from her search. Angling her large, tufted ears backwards, her pale green eyes slid towards the source of the racket. A couple of young kittypets, the bells on their collars dancing wildly, were storming around the camp, dashing one way then the other, unable to take in all they clearly wanted to at once. Nearby, a pair of cats stared awestruck about them, jaws agape, eyes so wide as they gazed around the clearing that Tansypaw was sure they would pop right out of their sockets. Kittypets, loners, rogues, whatever they all were she didn’t care, they didn’t belong here. She was a sentinel, her entire job was to keep these cats safely outside of the Clan’s borders, but here they were waltzing right in and eating the freshkill her Clanmates had worked so hard for. Tansypaw still couldn’t comprehend how this Festival was supposed to make the Clan of Sunlit Prairies stronger, welcoming outsiders in to feel comfortable in their home and feeding them a feast on a silver platter. Her mother had seemed to treasure the Festival, though. Valleystar had thought it was always a good idea to make allies instead of enemies, although Tansypaw wasn’t sure what sort of allies kittypets could be expected to be. Still, her mother would want her to welcome these cats warmly, like a leader should and this was Tansypaw’s first Springtide Festival, so of course she was a little excited about it. A glimmer of gold reflected the rising sun into the apprentice’s eyes, making her squint momentarily, before her attention was swallowed by a pretty kittypet across the clearing. The golden pendant on her collar matched her sparkling amber eyes, and her soft, well-groomed fur prickled slightly as she took in her new surroundings and campmates. Maybe it won’t be so bad. The Festival won’t last too long, after all. Besides, Tansypaw let a purr roll from her throat, these new she-cats should be much easier to impress.
Bloompaw:
A bright, cheery morning brought the raucous rumble of pawsteps, kittypet bells, and a myriad of voices. The she-cat’s stone gray pelt didn’t very well blend into the backdrop of yellow and green plains of the end of a hot summer, yet she still attempted to tiptoe the edges of camp as she edged her way towards the trainees den. Her size and bulk, bigger than her peers but no bigger than her sister, Tansypaw, cast a large shadow when the sun hit her. Her bright yellow eyes avoided the gaze of visitors and Clanmates alike, wishing her own shadow would swallow her whole. Occasionally, a curious kittypet or inquiring loner blocked her path and meowed a ‘hello,’ to which the young trainee spluttered her own greeting and clumsily slipped past them. One cat in particular, a black and red collar snug around their fluffy brown fur, gave her a scathed look as she bumped shoulders and escaped to the front of the trainee den. 
Bloompaw paused at the entrance, looking back over well-muscled shoulders to take in the scene once more. Her heart skittered over beats of anxiety, even as it soared with pride and excitement. To see her mother’s work and legacy live on in the Clan warmed her to the tips of her whiskers. Every festival she tried hard to not make herself noticeable; yet, inevitably, she is put on show at least once as one of the Valleystar descendants. The young feline knew her sister hated this mixture of kittypets, loners, and rogues, but Bloompaw still saw some boastfulness in the jutting of Tansypaw’s chest. And that, well her sister, was who she sought out. 
Any bad temper could be turned as far as Bloompaw was concerned, her beloved sister especially. Feathered tail sweeping low over the ground (a tunneler didn’t quite mind dust on their pelt, so what mattered a dirty tail-tip?), Bloompaw finally broke into the trainees ginger and came face-to-face with the finger and white statue that was her sister. 
“Tansypaw!” Bloompaw squeaked in partial relief and partial warmth. “Festivities have started hm?”
Tansypaw:
The amber and white molly was abruptly dragged out of her staring as a familiar cream gray pelt slunk into view. Tansypaw’s ears shot to stand upright on her head immediately, her whole face taking on a gentler manner at once as she turned towards her sister. 
“Bloompaw!”, the apprentice returned with as much warmth and relief, the worry that had been itching at her fur subsiding as she stood up to look her littermate over. 
“Where’ve you been? I was looking for you,” she questioned in between licks as she tried cleaning some of the dirt from Bloompaw’s ears and face, she couldn’t have her sister looking this dusty right before the Festival really started off! It was unusual for her littermate to put herself in a position where she’d need to attract any sort of attention to herself in the slightest, Tansypaw had been expecting her to be ready for the day’s events before even she herself was. Although Bloompaw’s presence alone had brought out Tansypaw’s more open and agreeable side as it always did, the purr that had been present in her voice dissipated as she went on, sitting back down in her spot in front of the den and scooching over to give her sister space beside her. “Indeed, and to be honest I thought it’d at least be more,,, organized than this mess.” She gestured vaguely with her plumy, ginger tail around them, where strangers were poking their snouts in wherever they liked. If she were leader, well things would be different to say the least. She’d make sure no Tourist stepped out of line or acted as if camp was all theirs like this. Although Tansypaw was skeptical of the whole Festival at best, she could see the excitement brimming just underneath Bloompaw’s surface appearance, and for her, decided to withhold her other criticisms of the Festival for now.
She didn’t suggest joining their Clanmates in greeting the guests though, knowing that Bloompaw would get anxious at the prospect, and while Tansypaw herself wouldn’t mind some overdue attention, wasn’t quite willing to lower herself to be a welcoming sap for it. “Hopefully this won’t take long and we can get back to our duties soon,” she yawned nonchalantly, showing a maw of sharp, pearlescent teeth and putting on a relaxed demeanor so as not to let her Clanmates, or the Tourists, know how much the newcomers bothered her.
Bloompaw:
Bloompaw’s whole body relaxed at the grooming licks of Tansypaw. Her yellow eyes closed half way as she felt all the tension sizzle out from under her fur, in the same way that her sister was cleaning the dust and mud of tunneling from the dense gray fluff. 
“I was just expanding one of the new tunnel systems.. by myself,” she meowed softly, keeping her voice down in case anyone else heard. Anytime a cat was tunneling, they were supposed to be with a partner. Tunneling disasters didn’t happen often, but they could, and if only one cat was caught the other could run for help. Her ears instinctually flattened down a bit at the admission. Tansypaw would have her tail in a second if she didn’t explain—or over explain—, “I was feeling so anxious about the incoming of all the cats,” at this, she glanced out towards the visitors, “and I wanted time to myself. The tunnels are always so quiet when I’m by myself.” 
It was good methodical work that Bloompaw enjoyed, and it calmed her down. Even if her anxiety spiked when she returned to camp anyway, it was worth it. Besides, the gray feline reasoned that she didn’t do it often enough to be a true issue. Happy to change the subject from where she’d been, even if it was centered around the festival, Bloompaw’s ears pricked back up and she shook Tansypaw off. “Do you need help grooming?” The she-cat twisted around and leaned down to give her sister’s plumy tail a few swift licks, going particularly at a knot in the fur. “You think wonderful as always though.” She carefully skirted around a delicate flower in the fur of her sister’s tail and continued. Her mind wandered as she helped make the ginger and white’s pelt look even more stunning than usual.
A prickle of jealousy crawled through her stomach before she swallowed it further down. Parts of her would always wish that she was more outgoing, more sociable. She was happy to lay on the shadow of her more outstanding sibling, but sometimes wished it wasn’t like that. Not that Bloompaw couldn’t change to receive attention better, she just didn’t want to. 
Shaking herself from those thoughts, she straightened up and fit herself snugly against Tansypaw. “Once all the initial craziness calms down we can get back to what we’re doing every day. But visitors might join us sometimes.” It was a safe way to show off her skills, bringing visitors into the tunnels to see how she worked. That was one thing Bloompaw looked forward to.
Tansypaw:
Tansypaw’s face immediately turned stern at Bloompaw’s admission, her tail curling crossly behind her. She didn’t like the tunnels in general, even just the idea of them. Any time the topic of the tunnels came up, the sentinel trainee would feel sick. And what was worse was when she thought of Bloompaw being down there, beneath all that crumbling dirt, in the darkness with the walls squeezing in on all sides and no air to breath- no worst of all was the idea of her sister going down there all alone, STARCLAN knows what could happen to her all by herself! Tansypaw couldn’t understand the allure Bloompaw saw in the tunnels, and though she tried to be supportive, absolutely hated it when she went down all by her lonesome. Despite her best efforts to remain cross, she couldn’t help but soften a little at her sister’s following explanation and could only muster a disappointed sigh. 
“I know but, Bloompaw, you know better than that. I don’t want anything happening to you, not after- all we’ve already been through.” Tansypaw decided to keep her lecture short this once, as she watched her littermate with emotion, who bent down to gently groom her ginger tail. Happiness brimmed through her as she noticed her sister taking special care not to dislodge any flowers strewn in her fur, Bloompaw knew how important they were to her and she appreciated her support and love so much, she couldn’t lose her as well. It was a familiar type of happiness nowadays, everyone in the Clan had gotten used to her transition and it just felt so normal now.
Tansypaw grinned, her chest puffing out further as she agreed with an elated confidence, “of course, as always.” She boasted as Bloompaw drifted off into some kind of silence, “I have a lot of ideas, especially for the Festival, that would make everything around here run more smoothly.“ The sentinel apprentice glowed as Bloompaw fit in against her, her pelt shining where’d she’d been groomed, and her tail curling protectively around her littermate. Contentment beamed through Tansypaw, despite the ruckus of the Festival around them, everything seemed right in the world. Bloompaw was fine, safely tucked away next to her, and right now that was all that mattered. 
She grunted with a mix of skepticism and annoyance, despite her sister’s kind words of comfort, she was sure the Clan wouldn’t stop making a fuss over the Tourists till they’d all left. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the shine in Bloompaw’s own yellow eyes, and unable to stop her grin from widening, turned to her littermate and meowed in mock shock, “is that Bloompaw I hear, excited to show off?”
Bloompaw:
Bloompaw’s face fell a little bit, guilt tiptoeing through her gaze as she met her sister’s eyes then looked away. She squirmed a little in Tansypaw’s close embrace-like position and flattened her ears for a moment. The sorrow she sensed behind the chastisement made her stomach churn. They had lost so much. But not each other. Not yet. Not ever. Tansypaw was right too, it was dangerous in the tunnels, even if Bloompaw felt confident enough to close her eyes. It was the first lesson trainee’s learned—the danger. She hasn’t gone far! Tansypaw wouldn’t really understand that though. 
“Sorry,” she meowed back meekly, mildly licking her shoulder that wasn’t attached to her sister’s pelt, “I’ll try not to do it again, okay? I can promise that much.” The conversation shifted, less serious but no less anxiety-inducing, or at the very least, embarrassing. Her fluffy tail flicked over Tansypaw’s to curl around her littermate. Their furs mixed together, one sleek, bushy tail on top of another. They probably looked like little statues with faces too young for their stature. 
“I’m sure you do have ideas,” she meowed with amusement, whiskers twitching. Tansypaw, always shooting for leadership. Bloompaw smiled to herself. She could see it, one day. But then her eyes drifted, failing to find Dawnstar but feeling her heart flicker with admiration all the same. Not some day soon, hopefully. Their current leader did just fine. Her sister’s next words caught her off guard, her face flushing immediately, yellow eyes widening as they met the green of Tansypaw. “W-what! No, no way. I’m.. I’m not a show off.” 
Her face mixed with nervous excitement, however, betraying her own words. The young grey feline huffed and then said shyly, “Maybe, okay? I feel myself in the tunnels. It’s the only place I can feel super confident! Maybe it’d be nice to show that to the visitors, er- Tourists.”
===== Snowthistle's Introduction: =====
The tom’s long, lithe legs strode across the moors’ rolling hills and course grass. His paws prickled with both anticipation and nerves, the uncertainty of his future settled just over the coming rise. The morning sun was warm against his skinny back, causing the occasional sigh of contentment to escape out of his maw. He wished he could lay down and bask in it, soak it into his shockingly white pelt, but they had a mission. Snowthistle cast a glance backwards, smiling at his younger companion that padded a pawstep or two behind. Her amber eyes seemed to be taking in the sights of the “wild,” a place he was happy to return to. 
When Snowthistle had arrived in the Twolegplace, something like two moons ago, he had been lost without a guide. His past had clouded his thoughts and made him confused, wandering this new location with unease. It only took a little bit of time to find his guide—Twinkle—a smart, friendly kittypet who was happy to make friends. And when she mentioned the Festival and the Clan that held it, his multicolored eyes sparked with fire. When he left his past behind him, he had thought he wouldn’t return to another Clan ever again. But the ache in his heart to be around a Clan that truly cared and had true comrade die was stronger than his fear. 
The white tom shook himself and put his green and blue eyes forward. Twinkle had led them thus far and they were now traveling after the scent of many cats. The two had missed the mass exit of the twolegplace and were trying to catch up, hitting the tail end of their scents. Maybe if Snowthistle hadn’t slept in, they wouldn’t have missed it. A cheeky smile played across his face. The big day wasn’t enough to make him lose sleep. His large ears perked up as sounds drifted from ahead. 
“Twinkle, come on!” Snowthistle meowed, bounding ahead. His tail shot up and arched over his back and his ears pricked forward, occasionally twitching to take in the cacophony of voices and sounds that must be a camp. His heart rate increased again and he paused on the outskirts of what could be home. It was phenomenal. Unlike anything he had seen before. Better than his old camp, it had dens and joy and—HOLY THORNS, was that the fresh-kill pile? Snowthistle’s mouth fell open and his hackles rose in shock. It was huge! He snapped his jaws shut and turned with sparkling eyes to Twinkle. No more Twoleg food scraps, dirty mice and rats, or shared kittypet food. At least… if they could join. His whiskers flicked and he turned his attention back to the camp. Now, where was the leader?
====== Twinkle's Introduction: ======
Scents seized Twinkle's senses as she took in the massive uproar that seemed to come whenever the Festival came along. Though she had heard of this event before, it only hit her now how unbelievably terrifying it was. Her eyes seemed forever wide, and her jaw dropped to the ground as she scanned the crowd of gathered cats, all here for one event, particularly an event that didn't seem like that much of a deal to the young kittypet. Despite this, though, her thoughts ran with the speed of a rabbit across the moors, and her gaze seemed to fly from cat to cat, searching for something familiar and safe to hide behind... Truth was, behind all of the cheerfulness that was Twinkle, she was scared, no, terrified, at the prospect of meeting new cats, let alone these wild ones. The difference was plain between the newcomers, and the clan cats native to this land. The members of Sunlit Prairies were strong, well built, lean... the tourists were soft, wide-eyed, and in some cases, overweight. All but one- Snowthistle. Snowthistle. The name rang in Twinkle's head for a moment, and she snapped back to reality, back to a place where she could focus on something other than fear. She took the thought in and hugged in tight. Snowthistle, the once stranger who had appeared in the Twolegplace moons before, tired, hungry, and desperate for someone to help him. Unease had seemed to drift about him like a negative aura, and it immediately caught the kittypet's attention. Ignoring her wary thoughts of the traveler, she had quickly taken the tom under her wing in a way and had decided to become his friend. Her wide-eyed, delighted self had appealed to the young tom, and he had accepted her as a companion. As the two spoke on and on about life, and Twinkle taught the loner about the world he had now arrived in, he had immediately been interested in one topic,
The Festival of Springtides. Twinkle, surprised Snowthistle's quick eagerness, was easily coaxed into speaking more of the topic. Before long, and without another thought, she had agreed to be his guide to the territory of the Sunlit Prairies, where the festival was being held, and stay with him for as long as he felt necessary. Though she didn't feel inclined to join the clan or even participating in most of the Festival's activities, she was happy to join a new friend, a new comrade, in a journey of a lifetime, even if it meant she would eventually have to return to the boring Twolegplace, likely alone. She kept this possible outcome in her head, for now, hoping that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't come to that. Maybe he wouldn't join! Maybe he would come back with her- and meet her twolegs! They would have a blast together, she knew that. But that was a fantasy, and Twinkle knew it well. She immediately saw his inclined interest and excitement as they gathered in the clearing with the many others. His eyes seemed wider than the rest, but not with shock, with relief, as if this had been what he had been wanting for a long time now. As if maybe, this was his home. He seemed so close as to say he had been here before, or somewhere similar. Forcefully, Twinkle shook that idea away. She didn't need to bother with negative thoughts now... she needed to have fun, especially if she didn't get to be beside Snowthistle, as a friend, for much longer. She watched him continue to survey the camp until he called out for her, and she practically leaped in shock. She had been so caught up in her thoughts and daydreams that she hadn't even noticed the tom looking at her, with some sort of desperation and pure excitement. With a bit of a forced smile, she joined him and looked to the camp nervously.
She knew they would have to talk to someone any minute, and she dreaded the idea of it, but she stayed quiet and tried to become the cheerful, delighted self that everyone knew her as. 
Still, her mind raced, and she pretended that everything was fine. Everything was happy and excited and- not what she was worried about.
Dawnstar:
The tender molly tore her gaze after a brief hesitation from Lavendersnow's den, her ears twitching against her head. Her pale eyes still sparkled with interest, but she dared not make a fuss around the guests. /I'd appreciate the support of my Nurses during a time like this./ She thought passively as she wove amongst the pelts, her shoulder muscles rippling beneath her pelt. /We've been doing this for seasons, i thought she'd have known that when she joined our clan. She acts like a prisoner in her own den./ Dawnstar's gaze flitted to where Lavendersnow had disappeared. She watched as teo young kits scrambled towards it, stopping with a halt to paw at the vine tendrils that hung overhead. Twitching her whiskers, she padded towards them, her tail twining with the wind as she walked. She swept the two young cats aside with her tail, having them face her. They both sported two flowers, making their bodies look small in comparison.
"This is our Nurse's den, it would be best not to disturb them right now, " she mewed silkily as the two kits stared up at her with wide blue eyes. "Now run along, find your mothers. Don't get lost!" She stifled a purr as the two kits nodded and rushed off, their thick fluffy tails bushed out with excitement. This time they tried the tunneler's den, which shivered as they bundled into it together, their mews of excitement audible from the clearing. Dawnstar softened her gaze. /Id do anything to have my own kits be that young again./ She daydreamed, her mind growing fuzzy at the idea. She remembered the moment she was able to come home with them, the pain and agony of her birth being washed away with seeping love as her two kits, similar in pelt color to herself, squirmed up to her soft belly and nuzzled her with their small muzzles. She felt her heart had burst open with love for them then, swelling so large it could no longer contain itself. She'd give her life for her kits, and her clan much the same. She saw the oldest elder as a kit she was sworn to protect, and protect them she'd do, no matter what the cost. 
Dawnstar peered into different dens as cats began to split up for the tour around camp. Various pelt colors aligned within each respective den, all filled, with several cats shuffling out to sniff at the bramble sheet that covered the prey pile, their whiskers twitching excitedly. She swished her tail at the opportunity to help some cat. She padded up to them, bowing her head respectfully as several cats stepped back to give her room. One chubby trainee aged cat was whimpering from a bramble scratch on his pad, his eyes wide and expressive as he stared at a molly who lapped at it eagerly, her ears pinned back with worry. Dawnstar sent them over a loving glance. 
"Why not get that checked out by Lavendersnow? Her den is the pretty one with the fragant scents coming from it." She pointed with her tail towards it. The female tourist nodded gently before guiding the young tom away with her tail draped over his shoulders. Dawnstar's gaze ripped from the two and started to bare down on the pile, her eyes straining to see the top. The pile had grown quite large, the fresh scents of prey causing Dawnstar's mouth to water. Her maw twitched as she gripped the corner of the bramble sheet gingerly between her jaws, pulling it off slowly as to not get thorns stuck in the prey, winding the edges up slowly until the sheet of bramble was nothing more than a painful mound, its heat sinking deep into her pads as she tucked it over itself, ears twitching. Beside her several cats stopped to stare at the pile, their eyes wide and entranced. She twitched her whiskers with amusement. /I bet they've never seen so much prey in their lives!/ She purred at the thought. She leaned up to grip a large mouse from the pile, flinging it in a pale cat's direction. Slowly, as cats finished their tour of camp, they slowly began to settle down next to eachother. The experienced looking on at Dawnstar for their cue, with the inexperienced being scolded as they leaned in to take a bite. She noted that the missing cats mentally, covering the pile once more with the sheet. There would still be plenty of prey throughout the day for the cats who returned, and possibly then some. Dawnstar rose her head to speak. "In a clan, each cat is to thank Starclan for each piece of prey consumed, each piece of prey killed, and every life that gives its own to bring us strength. I now say thank you, to Starclan and Silkstar, for providing for us this land and each life caught within it, for giving us the strength we need to survive and keep this land safe, and most importantly we thank Silkstar for the opportunity to support even our allies outside of our clan."
Several cats bowed their heads to her after she finished, their ears twitching. Dawnstar felt a ripple of satisfaction run through her pelt as she heard multiple cats whisper thanks under their breaths before burying their muzzles in. Dawnstar looked on a moment longer, before faltering and padding towards the dense Tall Grass. Her ears twitched for sounds as she patrolled the area, her tail held high as she poked through. She commonly sniffed around the area, searching for kits straying from their mothers or stranded Tourists. After coming up with nothing, she flopped down onto the Earth, rolling her pelt in the familiar scents of home. It would be good to keep up with training with their trainees, even with the added numbers. Her mind whirled with ideas. /Maybe the tourists could watch, or I can show them the best places to return in case we need them. Or I could them how to distinguish our scent from an enemies'./ Though lost in thought, the molly's yellow gaze still pierced the land eagerly, as if expecting some cat to pounce out towards her.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle’s multicolored eyes widened as he took in the camp, so organized and reinforced. His eyes went to the ginormous prey pile in the middle, stomach giving a massive gurgle stomach the sight of all the fur and feathers. A plump hare stood out in the middle, body splayed backwards over various other small creatures, ears lopped side to side. He took a deep breath and turned his head to speak with Twinkle, his sparkly (in personality) friend. His tail went rigid when he didn’t find her next to him as usual and his head whipped around in confusion. More cats had shuffled between them most likely; her scent was still freshly on the air. His heart hammered up a beat regardless, a small haze clouding over his vision. What if she left? His brain seemed to mull over, not entirely convinced she didn’t abandon him here. The pure white tom shook his head to clear it. Ridiculous. Twinkle might have seemed less enthused the closer they got to this Clan’s camp, but she wouldn’t have up and left him. 
Before he could go looking, a voice called from atop a highledge. He tilted his head to one side. The leader? The she-cat’s pelt was magnificent, cleanly and stunning with rosette patterns. His nose twitched curiously. It wasn’t unlike the fancy pelts he saw in the Twolegplace. His ears pricked forward as her words washed over him, igniting his nerves and wiping all else from his mind. 
"In a clan, each cat is to thank Starclan for each piece of prey consumed, each piece of prey killed, and every life that gives its own to bring us strength. I now say thank you, to Starclan and Silkstar, for providing for us this land and each life caught within it, for giving us the strength we need to survive and keep this land safe, and most importantly we thank Silkstar for the opportunity to support even our allies outside of our clan."
The white tom found he was grinning almost dopily at her words. A slight bee stinger nailed his mind, the “every Clan” worming into his sensitive memories and sending them singing. So many questions replaced the pain: Who is Silkstar? What is StarClan? Do they thank every piece of prey? His ears twitched with murmured thanks echoed around him, eyes shifting over the many faces. The Clan cats looked happy, just as happy as the.. ah, Tourists. But they also looked stronger, leaner, and self-satisfied in a different way. Safe. 
He took a deep breath and turned his head back for the golden-brown she-cat he assumed was the leader. His wife ears pricked forward. Gone! Oh rats. His tail flicked upwards, waving in the air as he took a few pawsteps forward to look for the feline. He walked forward slowly, multicolored eyes cast about. His eyes skated past many pelts—grey, red, black, striped, pale, dark, no, no—ah-ha! His eyes brightened as he saw her. Nerves no matter to the confidence he has, Snowthistle trotted towards her, his gaze settling into one of jolly familiarity, as if they were already friends. 
“Hi,” he purred when he reached her, “Are you the leader here? My name is Snowthistle.” The young tom felt his paw lifting in greeting, his claws preparing to unseathe. Then he flinched slightly, nearly noticeable, and put the paw down. It was an old greeting from his past; it wasn’t likely they did it the same way.
Dawnstar:
Shuttering light filtered through the heightened grass blade and lapped the Earth with familiar, inviting warmth. The clear sky seemed to blaze in sky high above, the bright sun at its peak now and working hard to bathe each pelt with its natural warmth. The cats of Sunlit Prairies lived for it, their entire clan centered around it's burning eye. Momentarily, the tall rosetted molly felt weak. If they relied on the sun for warmth, life, and its light, what would her clan do without it? What would she do without it? The gentle waking breeze revigorated her, brushing the fur against her neck like the gentle nuzzle of a mother with her kit, soothing and therapeutic, silencing her doubts. The sun had no reason to disappear, no tales of it ever happening were known as far as she was aware, and she lived for that ignorance. There was nothing to fear as far as she was concerned. Her clan mates were well fed, her clan had not known hunger since Silkstar lead them here, and she doubted that would change anytime soon.
Prey seemed endless in their massive territory, and with the precautions given to her clan mates to respect the life nature provided, she felt as though they could stay healthy and fed as long as she remained leader, and that was something she couldnt help but take great pride in. The dappled golden rays bathed the lanky molly as she padded through the seemingly everlasting tall grass, her pride in it strengthening the longer she spent within it. Her clan had been lead to a safe hollow with boundless protection naturally, whereas she'd heard tales of various clans working tirelessly to build a safe, protected home, the cats of Sunlit Prairies seemingly were granted it by Starclan. Because of this, she'd enforce upholding it with the highest regard as long as she could manage too. It meant everything to her that her clanmates stayed in a state of euphoria, satisfied with their lives and each blessing granted to them during it. Dawnstar herself always thought it wise to lead by example, if she sings Starclan's praises first and the loudest, then it may inspire others to follow in her paw prints.
Thats how she saw her job, inspiring the cats around her to be the best versions of themselves. She never quite could grasp the concept of Icestar specifically for that reason. Why lead a clan if you hate every cat in it? What's the end goal? Her whiskers twitched with thought. She flicked her ears back against her head at the sound of the shifting blades behind her. The molly turned, her muzzle almost connecting with a white tom's own once he appeared. Startled, the molly's neck fur rose tall, then lay flat when she noticed a flower embedded in the tom's fur. How could a Tourist sneak up on me like that? She thought momentarily. She watched him eagerly, suddenly curious. He seemed ready to reach out his paw to meet her own, but he retracted it. The molly studied his heterochromic gaze, tracing the outline of his features with her soft gaze. He was a handsome young tom, with lanky features and a long muzzle. He didn't have a scent that matched any of the different types of Tourists she was used to. He must be young, around a year. I don't recall ever seeing him before. Dawnstar purred a genuine welcome as he spoke, his tone of voice soothing the fur on her brindle spine. This cat was the farthest thing from a threat that she'd seen. She settled herself down, taking a proper settlement into the long blades of their territory, her tail curling over her paws and her facial expression kept welcoming, inviting, the most open and thoughtful she could manage. She listened closely, her ears twitching in response with his words. She leaned closer, her head lowering in a respectful bow, one no leader before her wouldve dared do. Though Dawnstar thought it better cats treated her as an equal rather than a matriarch, she'd always expect respect, but the best way to earn it was to show respect in turn.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Snowthistle." She rolled the word on her tongue, how perculiar. This tom seemingly already had a clan name. Was he a Tourist from Hanging Canopies? Surely not, she snorted internally. What reason would a Hanging Canopies cat have to come to my clan? Her mind did not wander to other accusations, instead leveling out and leaving her at peace, gently watching the tom through her usual calm, sweet gaze. She'd made it a point to be as positive as she could manage during The Springtide Festival, and that was a promise she'd keep. It's what's best for the atmosphere. "You've got it! My name is Dawnstar. How are you enjoying the festival thus far?" Her words were warm, her words laced with genuine curiosity, her eyelashes catching sun as she fluttered them sweetly, as if it was her attempt to come off as less threatening.
Snowthistle:
The lanky tom’s face split with a lopsided grin, which would have been charming to a she-cat older than him had it not been set in such a young face. He wasn’t so young, like an apprentice, but it was obvious he could have been a newly made warrior, give or take a month. It also wasn’t like he thought Dawnstar was old or anything, but he figured she wouldn’t be entirely taken with his beautiful features—grin or no grin. Still, it was a friendly, disarming expression, one that led another cat to trust. He was trustworthy after all, once he was loyal to something. Well… according to his past: he was loyal and trustworthy to cats that weren’t savage monsters. The grin also held a sprinkle of amusement. He had noted how close the two’s muzzles had gotten and was curious to think that he had taken Dawnstar off guard. He didn’t think of himself as stealthy usually, but perhaps he was. Or she was just focused on something else. 
Snowthistle took a moment to look around at the tall grass surrounding them. The light danced with the shadows, falling on the ground under their paws and their fur themselves. Dawnstar’s dappled pelt became even more dappled to his eyes, the light, quite literally, lighting up patches of her fur to make them brighter than other parts. He looked at her full-faced finally, expecting to see some admiration or shock in her own gaze. Cats that saw his heterochromia were baffled at first, then intrigued. He didn’t see the usual intrigue in Dawnstar’s face; she studied him but not in the same way others had. It’s not like many cats had it. A hazy memory resurfaced—one blue, one yellow. The young tom shook himself. It was high time to respond to the Clan leader. 
“Oh well I just got here,” Snowthistle purred back, cheerful. He saw her settle and did so himself, his shoulders two points at the side of his neck, his wide ears pricked forward to give Dawnstar all his attention. It only mildly prickled his fur to remember he had his back to the camp. “So far though, it’s quite lovely. I can see a lot of effort is put into making the Tourists feel welcome, no matter where they come from. That’s genuine. I assume it might be part of your craft?” He cocked his head to one side, then righted it with twitching whiskers. It was an easy acknowledgement and appreciation of how Dawnstar was presenting herself to him, as kind and open as if they were old pals and not strangers. Snowthistle felt warmed by the act. 
“You seem to be a welcoming Clan.” He stated sweetly, thought his tail twitched to cover his paws, betraying his eagerness behind the words. He bit his tongue, not wanting to prod or reveal too much. For a moment, he felt guilt at not having Twinkle with him while he conversed with the leader. How sad would she be when he didn’t return to the Twolegplace with her? It wasn’t for him. The wild ran free and heavy in his blood and heart. He couldn’t be trapped by concrete, and monsters, and creatures walking on their hind legs. He needed to be surrounded by cats and fresh-kill and duty. She would understand.
Dawnstar:
Light that freckled the young Bengal's fur shifted as her expression changed to one of joy, bright and gleaming from deep inside her chest. She shifted her weight until she settled entirely on her haunches, resetting her posture to come off as intended, tall. She'd commonly towered over many of her clan mates, and though she wasn't the strongest or most burly of cats, she could take pride in her long, graceful legs. She scanned them momentarily, her ears twitching. She had dappled speckles and swirly stripes down her arms and halted at her pale brown paws. Curling her tail into a spiral against her flank, the molly returned her attention entirely on the tom, who wasnt much shorter than herself, now that he had sat infront of her. His ears stretched tall over his head, curving along his temple and resting gently on his delicate white face. Though she noted that he did not look delicate, as much as most of the other cats here. This cat was hardened by something, she could tell by his movements. It intrigued her, her eyes adjusted and she watched him carefully.
As he spoke she took his words in, her mind slowing to process what exactly he'd said. He spoke with kindness, with a sweet expression and warmth flowing from his pelt. Dawnstar allowed the tension in muscles to ease. He's definitely welcome here. She thought as he spoke, his polite nature taking her off guard. She was used to cats such as Windsear, egotistical with a tendency to show off, his manners one of his few concerns. Dawnstar twitched her whiskers. He has stalwart shoulders that molded the frame beneath his pelt, toned along his legs and sides. He must have been very busy in his life to be so fit for a non clan cat. I wonder... 
"We're more than happy to have you here." She meowed after a few brief heartbeats of silence. She swished her tail, purring. She gazed on at him, completely tapping out of the rest of her surroundings, her mind whirling the long grass blades around him until she felt so focused they disappeared entirely.
The only thing on her mind was this tom and each word he spoke. She wondered momentarily if other cats focused this hard when she spoke. Probably not. She bluntly decided, dismissing the idea with a swirl of her tail. Her mandible twitched as she reset her jaw position, her long teeth now resting easily inside her jaw. She hadn't realized she'd slightly parted them and was inhaling his scent, desperately attempting to identify it. Suddenly, she realized she'd just sat silently intaking his features instead of responding. She quickly spoke up. "Mine, yes, many of my clan mates are also well versed in our traditions." She shifted on her haunches once more, her upper body swaying. Her curved spine outstretched as she spread her shoulders, her claws gripping the ground. Once the stiffness eased, the molly settled back down and continued watching him. "I take great pride in knowing my clan is well-fed, and my own life as a kittypet taught me that a well-fed cat is the best version of them you'll find." Her whiskers quivered excitedly. She didn't mention her history much around her clanmates, since that was what isolated her so much from them. Though she didn't feel that hesitant around Tourists. They knew as much as she did how little importance blood held in the grand scheme of things. Clan cats seemed entitled at the idea of it though, almost seeing themselves as superior. Dawnstar never really understood this, and perhaps for the better. It humbles them to have Tourists in the camp. She thought carefully, an ear flicking. It makes them realize they're not so different, and that they have no reason nor right to make themselves out as superior just for having a different way of life, a different culture. When the sun sets, we're all still cats, afterall. She furrowed her brow, subtly nodding at her own thoughts as she moved on.
"I feel it is important to build relationships with cats different from us." She explained, her speech slow and knowledgeable. "It reminds us that we're not quite that different, and there's always plenty more to learn." Her hazel eyes took his features once more. He was what she was referring to. 
"Now tell me, Snowthistle, how did you come to earn such a name?" She looked on with genuine curiosity, her face screwed up curiously as she took the time to think on it. Are there other clans beside our own I'm just not familiar with? But one thing stuck to her mind, one idea that clung to Valleystar as well when it came to Dawnstar herself so many months ago. He would be such a great asset to the clan... What would I have to do to recruit him?
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle puffed out his narrow chest a bit, the tip of his tail curling where it lay over his front paws. He knew that “more than happy to have you here” could go for any of the Tourists. Even the fact that the Clan had this Festival must mean they were moons and moons ahead of his old “Clan.” Dawnstar’s warm welcome also gave him confidence that he made the right decision. He couldn’t help the relief that fell in waves as they spoke, a constant tide of salty water and gurgling foam pressing against his beating heart. And yet, this felt like more than just a usual welcome to a traveling cat coming for their celebration with prey and friends. His multicolored eyes sharpened—not with any negative emotion, but with more focus. His mind somersaulted with amusement. Is she evaluating me? he purred to himself. He was a little skinnier than he might have been at his peak, consisting of a Twolegplace diet. But the lean muscles were still present under his battle-hardened white pelt. Young, yes, but a life lived of hardship. Though his face was calm and open or joyful and excited at most times, there was also a wise hauntedness in the slope of his shoulders, the pricking of his ears. He kept himself honed in in Dawnstar, but also kept his ears open to the camp behind him. He was alert at all times. Once Dawnstar was speaking again, Snowthistle found himself leaning in slightly. He watched her stretch, admiration sparkling in his gaze. 
“I’m glad to hear your opinion and friendliness extends to the Clan. Pasts that aren’t entirely of one place can be beneficial,” he responded, a brief acknowledgement of her kittypet past. It made sense to him. The dappled molly would be able to teach better tolerance having known the life herself. He knew that not every Clan cat would hold the same opinion, but if the cat in power did, he knew that everyone would be supported irregardless. “I agree,” he rumbled to her next words.
The young tom’s ears pricked as she continued. He swallowed and looked away from her for a moment. His confidence wasn’t shaken, just him memories falling in like growing ice. It was not so long ago, merely two moons, that he belonged to another Clan. A Clan filled with blood and hunger and downturned eyes. One bursting with treachery, danger, misguided strength. Snowthistle breathed deeply through his light colored nose and turned back to Dawnstar. His grin had fallen off his face, but a polite expression remained. His voice also continued to be strong and peaceful. 
“I never thought I’d find another Clan so soon, or imagined that any others existed. I knew that our—his—Clan was based on one he had heard of, but I thought maybe they were tales for kits.” Snowthistle bowed his head, considering. “I earned my name in another Clan. Not a good one, if my being here is any indication. I would be.. inclined to tell you the full story, or at least enough details, for you to know. But I would respect if the story stayed between us and any other cats I might tell.” 
He looked seriously at Dawnstar, one dark green eye, one dark blue.
Dawnstar:
Shimmering light flickered and swayed at the sun slowly began to move in the sky high above their ear tips, strengthening the heat that was directed onto Dawnstar's darkened pattern. The molly glanced upwards, checking the time. We'll be fine out here a bit longer, I need to remember the ceremony at sun fall and take the first Tourist patrol beyond the moors. She considered momentarily brushing her tail against Snowthistle's side, gently guiding the tom back to camp with her and having him accompany him on each patrol, she was aching to see what he could be capable of. Some cats saw no use in the Festival, but Dawnstar had made an effort to follow in Valleystar's pawprints, prompting those who seemed especially helpful into tasks so she could decide for herself if they could be a possible asset. While her clan wasn't exactly small, they didn't really have that many grown and able cats who could do the work necessary for them to thrive. She knew her clanmates worked as hard as they possibly could to make the best of their situations, though with a pang of sorrow she noted that cats were occasionally working themselves tirelessly to help out, herself included. An extra set of paws would be of great value to her. She listened intently as his maw quivered and slowed with speech, his words swirling in his mind, his voice somewhat calming her nerves. She felt safe around this tom, she felt she'd even feel comfortable allowing him to see the nursery, if he so wished. The way he spoke calmed her, his own energy matching her own, causing the fur along her spine to prickle excitedly. "Very," she responded with a rasping purr. "Many cats you meet from my clan will have different stories to tell, each leading them here among our ranks to thrive. I couldn't be more grateful for them." Her eyes glazed over as she stared intensely at him, a burning passion in her eyes as she addressed the topic of her clanmates. She'd give her last breath hundreds of times over for any of them. She puffed out her chest with pride. And they'd die for me, she knew not to add, though the thought still was stuck in her mind. We're all very loyal to one another, I wouldn't trade if for a spot in the best Two-leg den. 
Gentle rustling blades erupted around them as a sweeping wind buffeted their pelts, a jutting wind that was usually specifically accessible only on the open stretches of moors. The molly still took in each opportunity it struck her. She breathed hard, the cool air waking her once more, her paws aching to run alongside it, something her clanmates could be seen doing quite often. She turned her attention back to the snowy tom as he spoke, her ears twitching along the tip. The deep hued Bengal flicked her tail gently behind her, a curious movement that seemed unique to her, as if she was quite used to stirring her tail for all sorts of different emotions she may be experiencing. Her long whiskers twitched as she listened on, her soft gaze growing wide as she watched him noticeably flinch, his ears flattening against his skull.
Immediately, Dawnstar swallowed a retraction of her words, guilt washing over her. I should know better by now than to ask questions like that. She scolded herself internally, her subconscious irritable. I can't just assume other cats pick names like that for their kits, like I was doing for Acacialight and Tarragonglaze. She dropped her gaze, her maw drooping. She really didn't mean to upset him. She felt her own heart pang for him, only now did she really see the pain that seemed to age him, from his sulking shoulders to the darkness in his eyes, his expression explained the feeling for her. But as he continued, she met his gaze seriously, the intense burning in his gaze matching her gentle own, his deep blue and green eyes swimming with emotion, thought, knowing... It greatly intrigued her. 
"Of course, you've got my promise." She meowed, her whiskers twitching as a playful thought loomed over her. "If I break it I owe you my tail and my set of whiskers, deal?" She suppressed a purr of laughter herself. She knew it likely wasn't the time for jokes, but the bitter feeling that clung to her belly made her shy away, she didn't want to give this tom any bad impressions of her or her clan. I definitely don't want him to leave... She sat up straight and pricked her ears curiously, repositioning herself now so her own scar was visible, giving him ample opportunity to speak up to her with questions if he so wished to swap sensitive information. Her own expression had now softened and as sharpened by her own soft interest, though her gaze shone a trusting hue, her pupils dilating as she looked on at him.
Snowthistle:
With the great she-cat’s promise, Snowthistle took a moment to collect himself before he began his tale. He found himself looking her over again, shadowed by the tall grass, considering his next move. Full honesty, half honesty, a sprinkle of the story? He watched her sit up straight and give him her full attention. Her hazel eyes were warm, almost melty and soft like looking at the bottom of a river through the water. The tension in his shoulders didn’t abate, but loosened. The young white tom finally allowed himself to look around, to make sure nobody was too close to them. They weren’t. Though he did scent Twinkle nearby, with another cat. Hopefully she was safe. 
“All right,” Snowthistle sighed. He shuffled his paws and mirrored Dawnstar’s posture, meeting her eyes and moving his maw to begin the story. 
“It was called SavageClan. I have no idea if the Clan prevails or.. or not. Which you will soon understand why. Bloodiedstar was the leader, which sounds ridiculous, but that’s just how it was. It was a Clan riddled with the worst of the worst in cats. No honor or loyalty, only fighting for our food and dens and.. kits. Plenty of traditions were bloody, though none so as the Duel for Life.” Here, Snowthistle paused. His eyes began a bit unfocused on Dawnstar’s face, then sharpened as he forced himself to the present to keep going. “I don’t remember everything from my kithood. I remember my mother’s smell and her eyes. I don’t remember her name, and my foster mom refused to ever speak it again. She tried to save us I think. It was futile.” 
The young tom grimaced. 
“The Duel for Life is a barbaric ceremony where any kits of a litter are to fight to the death. You see, as it had been explained to me later in life, the Clan just didn’t have enough resources for big litters. Only one kit could survive each. Queens would praise the ground they walked in to only give birth to one, so they wouldn’t have to do the Duel. It wasn’t so with my siblings and I—four in total. If you want my opinion, I think it was all for control with fear. We could have sustained on that large forest with something like…” Snowthistle found himself struggling for the right word, and simple used one paw to gesture behind him, back towards the bustling Clan of Sunlit Prairies. The model Clan. He knew he was rambling, not getting to the gritty details. But spilling his truth felt too painful if said plainly. Explanation was necessary. He cleared his throat and went in. “My mom tried to save us by taking us away. We were caught, of course. My father ratted her out. As punishment for her actions, at 3 moons, my siblings and I entered the Duel for Life. I survived.” Now fresh pain blossomed in his multicolored eyes as the foggy memories of his siblings rose in his mind. “Not without blood on my paws. I’m not sure what happened next, but one day my mother was gone and my father blinded. He was executed for his supposed uselessness. I was left with my father’s new mate, who hated me.” Snowthistle breathed deeply, allowing his chest to rise and fall three times before he continued. He squashed the flash of emotions rising to suffocate his chest—anger, sorrow, and guilt flattened between his claws. “Yet I persevered with them all gone. I learned to fight, and fight well. I rose in the ranks, even though I was so young. Then one day, I knew Bloodiedstar would be alone and challenged him.” He gave Dawnstar a wry grin, not forgetting her there. “I won, or else I promise I would not be sitting before you. He was old and arrogant, while I was young, enraged, and intelligent. Not to be too boastful myself.” 
“I ran after. No way would the rest of the Clan let me live. They came after me for at least half a moon, but I outran them. And I’d do it again to avoid their wrath. I found myself, exhausted and battered, in the Twolegplace near here less than a moon ago. That’s where I’ve been since. When my kittypet friend, who I came with, told me about here… I had to see for myself. I had to..” The snowy tom cat hesitated. He wouldn’t ask to join right now. Not after spilling his story. 
The pain melted away, as did the rigidness of his narrow shoulders. He felt a breeze blow through the grass blades and ruffle his short pelt. It was almost like the universe sighing with him, as the weight temporarily lifted from his chest. His maturity was well beyond his moons, yet his wisdom was still that of a youthful cat, despite hardship. He met the bengal’s eyes with as much courage as he could muster and meowed with finality, “I’ve killed, to survive for the most part. But I’ve also killed for revenge. Dawnstar, I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to fight. I want to flourish and give my strength to someplace worthy.” Snowthistle was done. His jaws closed, throat slightly parched from the monologue. He kept a steady two-colored gaze at the leader, waiting for judgment.
Dawnstar:
Dawnstar had sat mostly still as the tom before her began to speak, each of his words of great importance to the molly. She shut out most other thoughts she could've strayed too to instead focus all of her attention on him. She watched him through a soft smile at first, which quickly faltered, loosened, deepened, then eventually fall entirely, her eyes widening with each word. Sure, cats had many different backstories but his, or the way he described it at least, was one of the worst she'd ever heard. Her own ears twitched as each word strung her along the story, as if she was living through it herself. She nodded every few sentences, her face growing more stern.
She curled her tail around her flank, her brow furrowing. As he named his former clan, leader, and finally the tradition the molly's fur rose on her spine. A Duel for Life? She felt as if her own chest had collapsed. She didn't need to hear the rest of the story to know where he was headed with a lead like that. She flattened her ears and stared at the tom, her gaze unblinking and solid with thought, her expression unreadable. Something about what he spoke of sounded familiar, however... She winced as she watched him grimace at the mention of his mother. Dawnstar flicked her ear in response, her claws digging into the ground. Bloodiedstar, he sounds like a true nut case. She wanted to mew, though she kept silent, her body as still as stone as she swallowed shallow breaths, as if moving her ribs would make the tom appear. She watched him gesture behind him, her own deep amber gaze washing endlessly with emotion. She peered over his shoulder to where camp was just beyond the tall grass, voices still mingling together and clinging to the air. For a heartbeat, Dawnstar felt the urge to claw her way back to camp to check the nursery. She couldn't ever imagine putting a kit in danger, much less having them fight for resources. How heartless could a cat be?
As he spoke of his mother, Dawnstar's eyes seemed to widen. Suddenly, she could hear another cat's voice over his own, revisiting the memory. She'd heard this tale before, though she couldn't recall if it was in the same amount of detail... Her eyes widened. How couldn't she have seen it sooner? This tom's pure snow colored pelt, the heterchromic eyes that seemed almost absent from existing clans, of course! His mother must be related to Skyrose. She felt as if her heart had cracked in her chest at the thought, and she almost wished she could wrap the tom up against her warm flank and curl her long tail over his body, protecting him like a tiny kit until he was returned to her. He must not have realized that she lives here. She thought miserably, the thought cutting her mind with sharp claws. She contiuned listening, though that realization hung over her head and stayed as loud as a flight of songbirds. She examined his pelt as he spoke of his strengths, silently agreeing with him. When he spoke of the fall of the tyrannical leader, Dawnstar felt she'd had her own weight lifted off her chest. Skyrose may not know that part yet, that must be such a relief... I doubt they'd ever be tracked here. Even if they were... Dawnstar saw red momentarily, her own empathy guiding her swipes as she imagines mercilessly driving Snowthistle's former clanmates from her home, protecting him with the same intensity she would her own kits. Those cats deserved nothing but the sting of wounds.
She twitched her whiskers as he continued, the boastful comment petting her fur. She trapped a purr in her chest, suppressing it. She looked at him expectantly as he abruptly halted his words, trailing off as if lost in thought. Dawnstar blinkef at him sympathetically, not guessing what he couldve said next, her own questions hot on her mind. How many cats were part of the clan? Did they have a leader to replace Bloodiedstar? How long has it been since... Her pupils sharpened. How long has it been since your mother has seen you? She shook away her thoughts, listening in. I don't want to fight. I want to flourish and give my strength to someplace worthy. Now that one she caught. She awaited his ending, her own eyes blinking as she caught his own, awaiting her response. Dawnstar cleared her throat, her ears twisting somewhat outwards, the fur along her spine somewhat ruffled. What was there to say? Her words seemed to get lost in her throat. I had the same response when Skyrose told me, she thought, cringing. I sat silently for a good sunrise and a half it felt like, just collecting my thoughts. She felt she needed to do something, gently, she placed her tail upon his spine, resting so gently that the fur on his back hardly parted. She expected him to shrug her off, or maybe wince at her touch, but she didn't care.
"That must have been very difficult." She muttered softly, her voice hardly audible. She lowered her gaze, shifting her paws. "No cat deserves something so harsh, so cruel..." She trailed off, her own voice lost. How does she respond to something like that to begin with? I'm sorry? "You had great courage to do what you did, I'm sure the queens and future kits will see you as a hero. I certainly do." She looked at him gently, her eyes clouded with emotion. "I'd be lying if I said my clan wasn't thriving, but I'd also not be telling the full truth," she blinked at him expectantly, hope flooding her chest. "We'll need more cats if we are to protect whats ours for many seasons to come." She looked on at him, her throat tightening. She usually preferred to test out each new recruit first, but after a story like that, one that she full-heartedly believed, there almost wasn't a need. Not only that, but she guessed she already saw a great number of his skills shining through Skyrose. "Would you believe me if I told you that I know another cat that knew Bloodiedstar?" She wasn't entirely sure how to approach the topic, but this was her best attempt in the moment. She looked on at him, her eyes soft and quizzical.\
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle respected the way Dawnstar sat in silent concentration on his words. The lack of interruptions made his story more bearable, allowing him to chitter and ramble it out between his teeth without having to pause and rework what to say. He had tried not to take in any of her reaction as he spoke, lest even that distract him. But subconsciously he had noticed her widening eyes, rigid muscles, and prickling fur. It wasn’t a story for the faint of heart, but it was his. It was lived and truthful. He hoped the honesty won him some points with the great dappled leader. Her next words certainly won them for him. How else could a cat respond to something so gruesome? The white tom himself could hardly believe himself when he told it, it sounded so much like a nightmare told to keep kittens in line. He felt as her tail tip rested delicately on his back, near his shoulders. His fur didn’t twitch and he didn’t recoil, nor did his body stiffen. It had the effect he was sure Dawnstar was hoping for: the young cat relaxed marginally. It was the lightest brush of a feather, though held so much support from this near-stranger, he almost wept. He didn’t though, merely blinking in appreciation as the words choked up in his throat. He found himself nodding solemnly as she comforted him. Snowthistle let the words roll over him, taking a moment to close his eyes and feel them. 
“Thank you, Dawnstar,” he said with warm emotion. He, himself, had nothing more to say in response. He hoped that his body language, his forwardness and honesty, and the look in his face provided enough without needing words. As she continues, his angled ears pricked with curiosity. Speaking his past still hung like a storm cloud over his head, but he had spent the last two means attempting to make peace with it. His shining future was more interesting now. 
“From the limited look around, I can tell this Clan does well. I can also see it’s very large, and from what Twinkle said, so is your territory. I can imagine you’ll need more paws to help.”Snowthistle was dancing around what he truly wanted to say. Let me join, please. Would this help him in his healing journey? To join a Clan so contrasted to his birth-Clan? He thought so. Despite the horror of SavageClan, he missed being in the wild and being constantly surrounded by cats. Who was going to say it first? His eyes widened with surprise at her question when he stopped talking. He was working up the confidence to request to join when it felt like his pelt was struck by lightning, nerves set ablaze.
"Plenty of cats over the years were banished if not executed… and others escaped,” he mewed tentatively. He struggled to remember their names and faces. Once, an old tom lumbered away when they all slept, citing going to the dirtplace. Another time, a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat 4 moons his senior had disappeared too. Could it be either of them? Or countless others. Even cats he may have never met. “So I’d believe you.” From Dawnstar’s words, it sounded like she knew knew them. His eyes trailed for a short look over his shoulder. The Clan.
Dawnstar:
Dawnstar leaned closer, her breath catching in her throat. Her body ached from anticipation at learning whether or not she'd said the right thing. It didnt seem to be a common occurrence for other leaders to doubt their own words so harshly after they were spoken, and despite how much thought Dawnstar put into each phrase, lighting rearranging the sentence and her head and repeating herself various times, each word still seemed wrong. She'd never experienced such pain, she wasn't sure she ever would, and she had a feeling she knew exactly what may happen to a cat like her in his paws. She winced at the thought. I'd be flayed alive, no ifs ands or buts about it. The idea stung her. This tom was strong, capable, and well spoken. She appreciated everything she'd seen so far from him, to his respectful approach to the way he listened intently, choosing not to interrupt when she spoke and registering her words in his mind and thinking through a proper response before responding. She was all too used to cats rapidly responding with words that meant no use to her, or consistent interruptions that scratched at her patience.
Yet, Snowthistle hadn't stepped a whisker out of line. From the heartbeat he was in her sights he'd done nothing but prove himself more and more charming. His pelt was clean, his whiskers clear, and thought she could now see the grief that clung to his pelt like a bush of burrs, she still greatly respected him. He shared most if not all of that horrible story with me, a cat who just a few moments ago was a whisker away fron smashing head first into his muzzle. Despite how horrible Bloodiedstar was, he still shows me respect. That showed a lot of a cat, and Dawnstar was already fully aware of this point. He had already surpassed most of her clanmates with his general respect alone, what else could he have to offer? She was sure that question would be answered with time. She felt a warm glow in her chest as he did not shy away from her touch, instead allowing her to gently rest her tail atop his back. She purred as he thanked her, the emotion seeming to seep from the tom's pelt. She almost wished she could pull him close and lap his pelt, protect him the way he should've been from the moment he was born. Instead he'd grown into a fine cat despite his miserable circumstances, and Dawnstar could greatly respect that. She listened in as he spoke of their territory, her ears resting now as she allowed her muscles to relax. Her territory, her boundless, prey-filled territories. The thought hit her like a spark of lightning. I'm the clan leader. She reminded herself, the idea suddenly felt foreign. It had been so long since she'd had a normal conversation with a cat, one that was genuine, emotional, one where she was given the opportunity to soothe a cat with her words or kind gestures. She hadn't once thought of this tom as a Tourist since he began speaking. She removed her tail from his back before gently curling it back over her paws.
"Plenty more." She cooed, her voice soft and subtle. She searched his gaze, hoping to find the question she longed to hear come from his maw. "That is another reason I have for upholding the tradition of welcoming Tourists, every season I hope that one day..." She lost her thought, the words drying up on the tip of her tongue. We will have visitors who wish to join our ranks. She finished, her gaze trailing away from the tom momentarily to stare longingly towards camp. If we were attacked, I feel as though we are weak without the Tourists. But if they joined our clan... The idea seemed too complicated to be plausible. She looked back to Snowthistle, her eyes searing with desperation, before faltering. I can't ask for a cat like him to give away his freedom, its his decision, not mine. I don't want to sway him one way or another. But would it be so bad if.. 
She listened in as he spoke once more, her ears vibrating with thought. She watched him glance over his shoulders, his tone indicated surprise when he meowed them. The molly stood, her full height now easily realized. Her body stretched out long behind her, it seemed as if she was an entirely different cat when standing, her posture almost unmatched among her clanmates. Yet she held a childlike excitement in her eyes. I just hope he won't hate me for this. She wasn't entirely convinced he missed his mother, she couldnt exactly tell if he blamed her for his sibling's deaths, either. She assumed he didn't, but the doubt still stung her mind. She'd seen reunions turn for the worse on occasion, but nothing as gripping as this. "Come with me, there's some cat I think you'd like to meet."
Tansypaw:
Tansypaw’s pale green eyes glanced sideways briefly towards her sister’s guilty yellow ones, before darting away again, back to the crowds. Momentarily, a flash of her own remorse seemed to burn the flowers from her pelt for making Bloompaw feel like that, but the ginger-and-white statue quickly shook it off again. I’m just looking out for her. She told herself, her usual confidence having resumed, I’m not the one who makes the rules around here,,, at least, not yet. Deciding to let the subject drop at that, as Tansypaw knew her sister was too sweet to break a promise like that anyway, the sentinel trainee simply nodded at Bloompaw’s words. The summer sun was by now reaching it’s highest point, beating down into the camp and the bustling pelts within and bringing not only it’s near blindingly, bright light but also it’s heat. The apprentice frowned upwards, I appreaciate the sunshine, Silkstar, I do, but throwing in a cloud or two wouldn’t hurt. Her squinting green eyes roved back down to the mingling cats with a sigh, noticing the amused twitch of Bloompaw’s whiskers out of the corner of her eye with a rueful smile. She playfully flicked her feathery ginger tail up to tickle one of her littermate’s ears, letting out a mock dignified mew. 
“And they’re quite good ideas, too!” A rumbling purr of a chuckle rolled through the molly’s white chest as she turned to face Bloompaw’s embarrassed features. “Don’t worry, I was just kidding,” she mewed, comfortingly, “I know you’re not.” She leaned over to lovingly lick the top of the cream-grey tabby’s head, adding encouragly, “that would be nice! You should show-off every once in awhile, I know your tunneling skills are amazing.” However proud she was of her sister’s abilities and however happy she was that Bloompaw had found a space and job that made her so happy, Tansypaw couldn’t help the sting of disappointment that prodded her at the tunnler’s words. Why couldn’t Bloompaw feel herself in camp?
Or in the forest, or on the feilds? Or anywhere around Tansypaw? She wished that she could make her littermate feel safe enough to feel super confident with her. Tansypaw had never been down in the tunnels herself, well, not quite. She’d set foot into the beiginning of one, before being unable to continue after her sister due to the panic that had suddenly engulfed her under the rock. She’d doubt she’d ever truly go down in the tunnels and it saddened her that she’d never see Bloompaw in what was apparently her true, confident self in her own environment. However much she disliked the tunnels didn’t matter however, her sister liked them and that was that. Tansypaw looked up as Dawnstar made her announcement, watching and listening intently and respectfully. Afterwards however, the ginger-white giant’s head remained erect, unlike many around her who bowed in agreement. She knew the Festival was a good idea, or, mostly good, and quite enjoyed the celebratory air in camp already, however her leader’s wording rubbed her the wrong way. Most importantly, we should thank Silkstar for the opportunity to keep our own Clan safe and well-fed. Which we seem to be feeding into the mouths of strangers and outsiders. Tansypaw couldn’t help the prickle in her pelt as the rogues and kittypets began their easy-won meals, hard-won instead by their hosts. She didn’t particularly want to stick around to watch this, she’d have plenty of time to talk to any worthwhile Tourists. Besides, it wasn’t very leaderly to be overly-eager to get to know everyone right away. Standing up, the sentinel luxuriously stretched out her front legs first of all, putting on an almost bored air. “What do you say we get out of here?” Tansypaw glanced back at Bloompaw, “it’s stiffling here with so many cats, besides we haven’t gone for a walk by ourselves in awhile.”
Bloompaw:
Bloompaw started to feel almost uncomfortable as the heat bared it’s full face down at the camp. Her pelt began to minutely itch, the grey-cream fur thick and heavy over her skin. Midday sun was usually when she was down in the tunnels cool earth, feeling it shift between her claws. Sometimes the tunnels got hot too, but if you were down deep enough, it was a blissful cool. At least underground too, the sunlight wasn’t searing off hairs. Which might be a bit overdramatic. She purred an “uh huh” to Tansypaw’s joking and didn’t comment further on her sister’s ideas. She’d heard them before and she’d hear them again, lovingly. To the other-
“Showing off isn’t my style,” she insisted in a small meow, though her yellow eyes did sparkle as Tansypaw’s infectious attitude washed over her. “Thank you, though. I guess, my tunneling skills are… pretty good.” Her cheeks burned as her pelt did, though blushing pink instead of simple heat. Pretty good didn’t cover it, in her mind (and probably in Tansypaw’s, though her sibling had never seen for herself). Bloompaw was a tunneling protege. Her build was perfect and her optimism and confidence underground was unmatched. She could close her eyes and make her way through the grand tunneling system if need be, and probably guide twenty blind cats. All right, maybe not that maybe. But still! She was good. 
Just as the gray apprentice opened her maw to speak again, Dawnstar interrupted them. She snapped her gaze to the leader’s highledge and sat up straighter. The dappled she-cat’s words washed over her and she mewed under her breath, “Thank you Silkstar and thank you StarClan.” Her head bowed as well to whisper them, not noticing her ginger and white she-cat to her side did not. She almost made a point not to look at Tansypaw, afraid to find the scorn lingering about the Festival and Dawnstar.
After the show, Bloompaw shrunk back again into her sister’s shadow. Her shoulders bounced in surprise when Tansypaw stood, blinking as the offer reached her tufted ears. 
In a way, Bloompaw’s face relaxed into relief and she twitched her tail-tip in gratitude. Standing, she butted her head against Tansypaw’s higher shoulder. “StarClan, yes! That sounds great.” It did. Get it of the crowd, and hopefully the sun, and get to spend time with Tansypaw? Sign Bloompaw up.
Tansypaw: 
Tansypaw gave her sister a disbelieving grin, raising a single eyebrow at her humblness. She knew that would be the most she could get her littermate to admit to her skill, but her heart swelled with love at the sight of a sparkle in Bloompaw’s yellow eyes that she had brought out. If even Bloompaw gave in that she was pretty good at something then it had to be a known fact that she was actually spectacular. Hard-working, detail-orientated, dedicated Bloompaw. Of course, she was a natural Tunneler, she’d be a natural at anything she put her mind to and Tansypaw had absolutely no doubt in that. She just wished Bloompaw would be prouder of herself, what was the use of being so good at something if you kept it hidden away underground?
The purr that burst forth from Tansypaw’s chest at Bloompaw’s reaction to her suggestion was almost loud enough to overpower the chatter of the Tourists. “Great!” She bumped her ginger shoulder agaisnt her sister’s gray one affectionately in return before stalking side-by-side with her along the outer edges of the mingling crowds. Thankfully, most of the cats were settled down and eating now, no longer criss-crossing across camp and bumping into each other, making it much easier for the towering pair to forge a path through. The siblings’ shadows fell over a few of the Tourists, who nodded or mewed a short freindly greeting. Tansypaw nodded stiffly in return, hurrying so as not to get stopped and dragged into a conversation. Besides, while the apprentice was sure that most of her Clanmates were too engrossed in their precious Tourists to notice the pair of trainees heading out, she didn’t want to take any chances.
Technically, trainees weren’t permitted to leave camp on their own, but the sisters weren’t just any trainees, and that rule was mostly for new apprentices anyway. Anyhow, they both knew the territory well enough and Tansypaw was confident she’d be able to protect them, should any terrible danger show up unannounced in their own territory. 
Once safely beyond the camp entrance, for which Tansypaw let Bloompaw slide through first before following with her head ducked down, the sentinel took a deep breath of fresh air, closing her eyes for a blissful moment on the other side. Much better. “So, where to?” The ginger molly questioned, her green eyes opening and swiveling to her sister, deciding to let her decide, “The Violet Stretch ooorrr, The Heather Plateau?”
Bloompaw: 
Bloompaw purred in amusement at the elevated enthusiasm of Tansypaw. She sidestepped after the she-cat bumped their shoulders, uneven for one moment. Then she shook her tufted ears and trotted after her sister. They walked in tandem; the right front paws moving at the same time as all the other paws fell into step. Despite their height differences, their strides easily became identical. The only difference was how they held their heads. Tansypaw’s was raised, chin tilted up in a show of confidence, whereas, Bloompaw’s head was lower, hiding almost behind her sister. She stayed to the side of the tall grass and dens, allowing her ginger-and-white sibling to be outward towards the Tourists and their Clanmates. It didn’t stop any of the plump kittypets or skinny loners from acknowledging her presence, but she still felt most comfortable in the shadow of Tansypaw. 
Despite her anxiety, the slate grey she-cat managed head nods and murmured hello’s as they made their way out. It wasn’t much, considering how busy everyone already seemed to be, and the two made it out of the camp easily. She didn’t feel uneasy about the two of them going out alone. They were about halfway through their apprenticeship at this point, and Tansypaw was a sentinel trainee. Bloompaw was practically useless in a fight, but she could still throw her weight and claws around. Plus, they had special privileges in a way. It was okay to use it sometimes.
Bloompaw ducked through the entrance first after a nod from her sister, then paused right outside to sniff the air allow her shoulders to relax. Her head also raised away from watchful eyes, and she arched her back in a stretch. She smiled at Tansypaw, fluffy tail swaying up towards the sky. “Hmm,” she considered. The Violet Stretch flashed in her mind. It was a gorgeous landscape and her heartbeat sped up at the idea of being near the tunnel system.
But—her yellow eyes alighted on Tansypaw. Her sister didn’t like the underground, plus Bloompaw had been there this morning actually. The plateau would be fun for both of them. 
“Let’s go to The Heather Plateau,” she finally meowed, turning in that direction and beginning to walk. She paused for a moment to wait for Tansypaw to catch up and then lengthened her strides once more.
Tansypaw: 
Tansypaw nodded in assent as Bloompaw turned towards The Heather Plateau, allowing a small skip and a bounce into her step as she caught up to her littermate, before continueing on with her stride in large stride. Normally, the sentinel would never act so kit-like anymore, but no-one else was around and it was so refreshing to just be alone with her sister again, no prying eyes, no pressure to act leaderly, no responsibility to uphold Valleystar’s and Tulipstar’s legacy in every desicion she made. For a few peaceful minutes, the molly enjoyed the comfortable silence between the pair as they made their way through the verdure of their territory. The coolness granted by the shade of a tree or tall shrub as they passed refreshed Tansypaw enough every few steps to keep going. Eventually, she grew bored of the twitter of birds above them and spoke up conversationally. “We scented a badger while on patrol near The Tanglewood Weald yesterday.” Her eyes glanced momentarily towards Bloompaw as she mewed, “so it’d be best to steer clear of that area for awhile,” before looking ahead again, where the greenery reflecting the color of her eyes was beginning to thin out in favor of tough moorland grasses. Tansypaw knew Bloompaw wasn’t like a few of the Clan’s Tunnelers, who ventured deep and far for the thrill of the danger, but still, a little warning wouldn’t hurt. Better safe than sorry, afterall.
As sprigs of purple began to dot the pastures they entered, announcing their arrival to The Heather Plateau, the sentinel stood a moment on a rise which quickly descended into the thickets of heather. Her ginger-white patched pelt was blasted by a gust of wind and she inhaled the wild breeze with a sense of exhiliration, her green eyes blazing with fervor. The moors, especially fields full of flowers like this one, were her favorite spots in the territory, where the wind was untamed and free and tore at her fur with the open sky in all directions, sun seeming to shine down soley on her in that vast landscape. “I think I would’ve been a Moor-runner apprentice if I wasn’t a natural-born Sentinel already,” Tansypaw remarked casually as they set off down the slope, “The air here is just so exciting. What about you?” The trainee stopped shortly to crouch down, waggling her haunches before pouncing on a nearby growth of heather triumphantly, squashing it beneath her large, white forepaws, “if you had to choose to be something else other than a Tunneler?” She questioned, turning back to Bloompaw and leaving her defeated opponent with a flick of her fluffy tail.
Bloompaw: 
The pair had turned their direction to the southern moors, where they’d fine rolling hills with patches of vibrant purple heather, long grasses, and rocky outcroppings. She was excited. The air was fresh, and although the sun was hot on their thick fur, it was almost bearable with them constantly moving and occasionally shadowed. Plus, nothing beat going for an adventure with Tansypaw. Bloompaw felt so content being around her sister, their closeness like a sticky cobweb. The gray trainee was enjoying the quiet as they padded along the well-known trails to the Plateau. No chatting voices of Clanmates and strangers, no searching eyes, no pretending for greatness as descendants of such large figures in the Clan’s history. She let out a content sigh, a graceful smile across her face. When Tansypaw started to talk, Bloompaw slowed their matched pace to make their words more clear and efficient. There was no rush to get to their destination.
“A badger?” She meowed worriedly, thinking of the lumbering black and white beast. “That’s not good… I hope a patrol will be sent out to deal with it soon. But don’t worry, I don’t like going to western forests. Especially The Tanglewood Weald. The ground is, mushy. Not good for tunneling. Or our pelts.” Bloompaw screwed up her nose and twitched her whiskers at the ginger-and-white feline. She could even imagine the squelching of mud and soft peat beneath her claws. Yuck. Her belly fur would be so hard to clean after traipsing through there. One good thing about being a tunneler—usually confined to certain places in the territory. Sentinels and trackers traversed the territory most. She didn’t envy her sister then. After he show of disgust, Bloompaw leaned over and licked Tansypaw’s cheek in wordless thanks for the warning.
Finally, the fresh scent of heather was carried on the wind towards them.
She fell only half a step behind Tansypaw as they reached a rise, looking down on the hills of the moorland. Her heart soared with happiness. This was their home. She followed her sister with a spring, leaping down a jutted rock to land with a thump beside Tansypaw. The sun beat a hot line down her back, but the soothing wind continued to whip through their fur.
“A moor-runner, of course, like you said. I thought as a kit, that I might become one too.” She chuckled in amusement. “I think both of us are a little too big to be so effective. Though, you’re more coordinated and faster than me, so it’s possible.
Bloompaw walked forward and sniffed the flattened heather from her sister’s big paws. “Though I guess, if you or I couldn’t catch the rabbits, we could just sit on them until they gave up. You big oaf.” Her yellow eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked up at Tansypaw from a crouch.
Tansypaw:
Tansypaw felt much relieved at Bloompaw’s show of disgust at The Weald, confident that would be sufficient enough to keep her sister safe from that possible danger at least. One less thing to worry about in any case. She purred contently at her littermate’s wordless thanks, it was hard to worry about anything really, on a day like today with the weather so sunny, so perfect and Bloompaw right here at her side. The gales of The Plateau were strong enough to cool Tansypaw off despite the lack of shade out here from the uncomfortable heat, and they brought with them the subtle, earthy scent of the purple heather flowers surronding them. The molly was grateful her pelt sported lighter colors rather than a pelt with darker colors which would get much hotter much quicker, her darker ginger patches the only spots where the sun really seemed to shine on.
“Of course it’s possible!” Tansypaw exclaimed, “Especially when we could’ve worked together!” She sat down on her rump, grooming a section of fur on her shoulder which was sticking up more thoughtfully. “It would’ve been nice though, then we’d get to spend the whole day together, every day. Just like old times.” The trainee watched her sister through hazy green eyes, her mind seeming to be elsewhere for a minute as her eyes slowly dropped to the ground. They used to spend every single hour of every single day together, figuring out what games to play next, who could entertain them afterwards, and talking about becoming apprentices. Nowadays they only saw each other in the evenings (though, both of them were tired out at that point and would usually always head to bed early) and, if they were lucky enough to catch one another, in the mornings.
This daily seperation had made the losses they’d endured just that much harder. Sometimes, she felt so alone without Torrentfocus, and Applebreeze, and Valleystar. She had to remind herself when the days seemed to stretch out forever, that she wasn’t alone, that Bloompaw would be waiting for her back at camp. 
“Hey!” Tansypaw blinked herself out of her reflections, a smile unfolding itself indignantly upon her ginger splotched face as she turned towards her sister once more, “keep talking to the Clan’s best Sentinel trainee like that and you’ll find out how it feels to be a squashed rabbit yourself!” She met her littermate’s eyes playfully, green sparkling back at yellow, and lunged up with both forepaws in the air like looming cumulonimbus clouds, as if to flatten Bloompaw for her blasphemy. She slowed down her actions more than she would in training, of course, throwing her shadow over her sister’s form for a moment longer before throwing herself down.
Bloompaw: 
The thought of the two of them training together and then patrolling together made Bloompaw’s heart ache a little. She missed their close kithood, before their apprenticeships forced them down two different roads. If she thought about it too hard, she’d remember that once they were no longer trainees, they would be sleeping in different dens. It made sense why, but she was so nervous about it she wanted to squirm. That problem wasn’t till later though, at the very least 3 moons away and potentially more. Perhaps they’d just have to switch dens occasionally when they got lonely. They would definitely get lonely..
Bloompaw purred with amusement, her bushy tail swishing against the heather and dust, some of the long fur snagging and pulling out. Her yellow eyes danced playfully, narrowing. As Tansypaw reared up on her strong hind legs, the slate gray she-cat squealed with delight and darted sideways, attempting to escape. “Oh, please, sister! I don’t want to be turned into crowfood!” She purred, prancing a tail length away and crouching again. 
Bloompaw knew she had no hope of ever actually beating the ginger splotched she-cat. She appreciated the slow down and darted forward on her slower speed to swat at Tansypaw’s wide flank, claws sheathed carefully. Then she wormed her way to her sister’s other side, giggling all the while.
“Can’t catch me, Clan’s best sentinel trainee,” she teased.
This was when Bloompaw was at her best and most relaxed, when the two of them could be carefree and by themselves. When she could truly bloom like a poppy.
Tansypaw:
Tansypaw’s forepaws landed on empty ground, a miniscule cloud of fine dust billowing in the sunlight around her white paws before being blown away by the moor winds. The molly’s eyes were already somewhere else however, tracking her sister’s movements with trained precision. Ignoring her urging muscles, who instinctively wanted to move forward, or at the very least side-step, the ginger-and-white she-cat dropped her jaw in a yowl of playful surprise, “Oh! I’ve been bested!” She tilted over as if she had lost her balance as Bloompaw swatted her, wobbling momentarily on three paws, nearly falling over into a defeated slump of fur. “Maybe I should hand the title over to you instead!” Tansypaw mewed back gaily, spinning around to face her opponent head on once more. “Slippery little vermin!” She teased right back, a sparkle in her emerald eyes. 
For a moment, the apprentice gathered herself, watching Bloompaw with a wide smirk. Then, with a surge of speed, the sentinel rushed forward into her littermate, toppling the both of them over into a patch of heather that had previously been right behind the slate-grey tunneler. Her own smile dissolved into giggling as she scrambled to right herself and pin Bloompaw down among the scattered purple flowers. “Not such a mischievous rabbit now, are you?” She huffed, catching her breath as the world swayed slightly around her. The sudden overshadowing of her sense of smell by the heather that seemed to permeate the very air, had Tansypaw fighting the floral dizziness from their roll as the earth tilted a tad to the left around her one last time.
Training was never this fun, because, of course, Tansypaw never let herself have this much fun. She wanted to be a respectable, model trainee and so, that no meant no playing around or wasting time when she could be using her time properly. She noticed how much though, the sister’s playfights had evolved through their respective apprenticeships, or at least, how much her own fighting capabilities had grown. Her muscles were tense and ready, despite her brain telling them to relax and she felt a surge of pride that her hard work was seeming to pay off. The pair weren’t just useless kits anymore, they were learning to be Warriors! Tansypaw herself couldn’t wait for the day of her naming ceremony. It was just one step closer to her dreams becoming reality, and she saw nothing but great things and green-tinted pastures ahead.
Bloompaw: 
Bloompaw purred with amusement at Tansypaw’s display of defeat. It was comical to see the strong-muscled feline waver on her paws, as her eyes cast upwards in a woe-is-me act. As her sister zipped around to face her again, the gray she-cat stuck out her tongue. “I don’t see the best sentinel at work yet! Perhaps I should take the title from you if you can be so off-balanced by a measly tunneler!” Her words were rife with the rolling purrs from deep in her chest, her whiskers twitching continuously as she tried to hold back the laughs of irony from her words. Her fluffy tail swished the ground as she waited for the playful counter that would make her eat those words.
Her sister’s beautiful green eyes met her twinkling yellow and she swung her back hips side to side in a mocking pounce preparation. Suddenly, she blinked, and Tansypaw was right in front of her. Bloompaw let out a mrrpmh sound as the other trainee bowled them over, feeling the soft and hard press of heather and earth as they fell into the plateau with the weight of two very large trainees. “Oof,” the tunneler trainee mewed, looking up into the friendly face of Tansypaw as her sister pinned her in victory. “You are what you act like,” she joked, referring to the rabbit comment and her tunneling tasks.
Bloompaw’s head felt a little light after their tumble, and she noticed in the unfocused glint of Tansypaw’s pupils that they were both suffering a little dizzy spell. If anything, it made this whole situation better, to know that they might react the same way to stimuli. Closer than the flowers on a stalk of heather, these two. Feeling her senses return to normal slowly, the gray she-cat with her little cream accents used her front paws to push at Tansypaw’s chest. “Let me up you giant cat,” she meowed, “you know I can’t get out of this situation.”
Bloompaw, despite the playfulness here, was impressed by Tansypaw’s
skills. She had barely had anytime to react before her sibling had taken her down. Imagining this as a real fight, and Bloompaw knew she would have been crowfood. She felt bad for their enemies; if Tansypaw was going to improve more than this, they had better watch out.
Tansypaw: 
The world finally stopped swaying and Tansypaw could once more focus on Bloompaw’s gray-cream face. The ginger-white trainee didn’t even try to hold back her laughter. “Measly Tunneler, ha! You don’t know your own strength, from all that digging you do!” The Sentinel smiled down sternly at her sister, “give yourself a little more credit, Bloompaw. I can see how much better you’ve gotten.” In her world, what Tansypaw said went, and she wished that Bloompaw would just accept her words would see how great she was. As kits the pair had merely tumbled about, clumsily swiping at any tails that had come into their vicinity. Of course the Tunneler’s strike hadn’t actually unbalanced her, nor had it hurt (as it wasn’t meant to), but Tansypaw had felt the skilled muscles behind the swat, trained and precise from her days underground, hauling dirst to and fro. 
She had by now grown accustomed enough to the thick scent of heather hanging in the surronding air that it wasn’t all she smelt anymore, her brain effectively blocking it out. “You’re lucky your ears aren’t too long, otherwise a moor-runner might’ve chased you back into a tunnel this morning and you’d be stuck there.” Tansypaw’s whiskers twitched at her littermate’s feeble attempts to push her off. She shifted her weight to move off of Bloompaw, before hesitating with a humorous, verdant glint in her eyes. “Use your back legs instead,” she advised calmly, “your front paws won’t help you here.” She waited for Bloompaw to try it, before bouncing off, retreating back into the shade of the heather. A buzzing insect, which had abruptly cut itself off as the sisters tumbled into its bush, apparently saw it had not been the target of the attack and restarted its lazy drumming.
Bloompaw: 
Bloompaw shuffled a little under her sister’s bulk. “Measly,” she squealed in amusement, sticking her tongue out at Tansypaw. Then she twitched her ear tip in embarrassment at the praise. The young feline knew that she was strong; it was obvious even as her muscles flexed as she merely walked. Her back was tough and hard, her shoulders looking like wide peaks on either side of her large head. If she had been more coordinated, and perhaps less enthusiastic about the underground, she probably would make a formidable sentinel. For moment, she allowed herself to imagine it—switching Clan duties. Side by side with Tansypaw, the two she-cats would leap into battle with twin attacks and take on enemies big and small. The thought skittered away as soon as it came. It’d be impossible, for so many different reasons.
As Tansypaw’s weight shifted a bit, the stone gray trainee patiently waited for her chance to shoot out. Luckily, she wasn’t panicking at being squashed by her sister. As kits, she’d often still found herself pinned, plus being a tunneler she was comfortable with the idea of something heavy preparing to crush the life out of her. Not that Bloompaw thought of it often; a tunneler would go crazy if they did. At Tansypaw’s advice, she pricked her tufted ears curiously. Carefully, she focused and pushed at the other trainee’s belly with her hind legs.
“Huh,” Bloompaw purred as Tansypaw got off, “I guess you know what you’re doing.” When the gray-and-cream she-cat rolled over to push herself up with her paws, she shook her pelt, feeling the debris of heather fly off. Then she joined her sister under the shade, panting. “Skyrose must be a good mentor, then?”
Tansypaw: 
Tansypaw settled down on the sparsly shaded ground, glancing over her dusty pelt and the work ahead of cleaning herself back up. The delicate flowers she had strewn throughout her ginger splotched fur were now, for the most part, either scattered to the wind or flattened and wilting. Better to just start over, she thought disdainfully. The lioness-like figure stretched out luxuriously, white paws peeking out from the cover of the heather into the direct sunlight, and began the endeavor of grooming her fur, whilst speaking to Bloompaw. “I better hope so,” Tansypaw purred, not taking her emerald eyes off of her work, “the Clan wouldn’t go on long if I didn’t know anything about fighting.” Sentinels were the most important job in the whole Clan, it was obvious (to Tansypaw, at least). If a Sentinel couldn’t do their job, there’d be no use in trying to hunt or tunnel on land they’d be chased out of. And it’s good for every cat to know a few basic moves at the very least, in the rare case they’d ever need it. The Sentinel trainee glanced up at her sister, a gentle smile lovingly etched into her face as she watched her slate grey form. StarClan willing, Bloompaw will never need that move in the first place. I’ll always be here to protect her from anything and everything.
At the mention of her mentor, Skyrose, Tansypaw stilled for a moment, before promptly continuing on roughly combing through her thick pelt. “Skyrose is alright,” she mewed simply with a curt nod, continuing on after a hesitation, “actually, I think we make a rather good team.” She teaches well, I learn well. The apprentice remembered when the varicolor-eyed molly first apeared,,, how long ago was it now? She’d been suspicious at first of course, as one should be, and had even considered inquiring Valleystar about the availability of switching mentors when she was first apprenticed to her.
Skyrose was a former rogue (point number one, and honestly that should be the end of the discussion, did she have to go any further?), who admittedly seemed pleasant enough, though didn’t socialize much and withdrew herself more from the rest of her “clanmates” rather than partaking in Clan life as much as she ought to, if you asked Tansypaw herself. It had seemed rather unfair: for her, the leader’s daughter, to be paired up with,,, Skyrose. And at first, the snowy she-cat had been quite chilly towards her apprentice, though this may or may not have been because of Tansypaw’s initial chillyness in return, now that she thought about it. 
Skyrose turned out to be serious and straightforward when they had gotten into training however, which was perfect as that had been exactly what Tansypaw was looking for in a teacher. She appreciated that Skyrose got straight to the point and didn’t dillydally around when it came to her training. Furthermore, Skyrose was a talented fighter. She had shown Tansypaw a number of moves and tricks that had originated from outside the Clan’s borders, and Tansypaw ate it up. Not only was she learning the right way to fight, as the Clan Sentinels did, but also how the enemy fought! So, there had ended up being a number of benefits to having Skyrose in the Clan and as a mentor so far, and in the time Skyrose had been training her, Tansypaw had grown to respect her. It had only been three moons though, so she didn’t know the snow coated molly too well either. But either way, she wanted Skyrose at least, to see what an exemplary student she was. 
Tansypaw glanced up from her fur, which was now sticking out in all directions as she went through the process of grooming it down. All of her old flowers had been removed, her eyes darting to the heather surronding the sisters like a hawk circling it’s prey trying to see whether it was good enough.
“What about you? How’s Silvershrine?” She returned her gaze to her littermate, a single eyebrow raised questioningly. Tansypaw just didn’t have much to say about her mentor so far, she’d been fine, or, rather good actually, and that was that, but Bloompaw must have something to say about the wack-job she’d been assigned.
Bloompaw:
Bloompaw had begun to feel hot in the playfighting under the sun, so she was happy to settle down more firmly in the shade and relax with conversation. She mimicked her sister by stretching out her front paws, feeling a little fizzle of warmth on her white paws before retracting them into the coolness under their perch of heather-shade. The young she-cat scooted back until the stalks brushed against her hind legs and she was fully submerged in the shadow. Then she slowly moved to a laying position on her side, watching closely as Tansypaw began to pull out the crushed flowers from her pelt. She nearly meowed a “sorry” before biting her tongue; her sister wouldn’t appreciate a baseless apology. They both participated in the tussle, it wasn’t any one cat’s fault that Tansypaw had to start over on her flowered pelt.
From here, she listened and watched Tansypaw. The gray trainee began her own grooming session. Though she didn’t mind the dust that had collected and tousled her own pelt, Bloompaw knew she had to make herself presentable while Tourists were in the Clan. Plus, it had the added benefit of cooling herself down with long strokes of her tongue through the thick fur. She murmured agreement at Tansypaw’s statement about Sentinels. She could humbly approve of it. If they didn’t have fighters, how would they ever maintain a claw-hold on the land they lived? At Tansypaw’s comments on Skyrose, she purred thoughtfully. 
“That’s good then,” Bloompaw meowed back. “You deserve a good mentor. I always thought Skyrose was a little scary. Her eyes are.. interesting. I’ve never seen anything like it. But, she seems to be a hard worker so I’m glad you’re getting on.” She shrugged one massive shoulder and returned to licking her flank, one ear swiveled to catch her sister’s response. Truthfully, Bloompaw had been worried when her sister was assigned the snow-furred Sentinel.
No cat in the Clan seemed to know the full truth of Skyrose’s backstory, besides the leader and deputy. It made her mysterious, and mildly suspicious. The gray-cream trainee trusted Dawnstar’s word, but she knew that Tansypaw would find it odd and maybe insulting to be given a rogue-turned-warrior. It was a relief to hear that Skyrose and Tansypaw got on, and she hoped that would continue.
Not being very serious about grooming, Bloompaw was already flipping to her other side, rolling over and shifting positions, when Tansypaw asked after her mentor. Silvershrine, Bloompaw almost grimaced, thinking to herself. She hesitated and her whiskers twitched with embarassment. “Oh.. Silvershrine. He’s all right, just a bit, er, aloof? They obviously know a great deal about the tunnels and tunneler, which is good! Uh. Though I seem to learn more when I’m just in the tunnels by myself experimenting.”
Bloompaw was remiss to get her mentor in trouble, but she didn’t dare not tell her sister the truth. The gray-blue tom just didn’t seem very interested in training her with a rigid system. A lot of the time, Bloompaw would head to the tunneling systems herself and have to find him, asking for instruction, instead of the other way around. It suited Bloompaw okay, being a quiet feline, but she couldn’t help feeling a little lost at times.
Tansypaw:
White fur returned to it’s previous pristine, shining condition, Tansypaw sat up lazily to begin plucking sprigs of heather flowers from the nearby clumps. Though not one of her favorite flowers, heather stuck better to her thick pelt, entanging itself easily enough in her ginger spots. Not to mention, she thought it looked rather exquisite when she had some variety, from full sprigs of the plant to just a few sprinkles of the purple flowers here and there. The Sentinel trainee simply hummed in agreement to Bloompaw’s observations on Skyrose, her whiskers twitching in amusement. “If you think she’s scary in camp, wait ‘til she takes you out for training and expects you to be able to fend her off,” she joked humorously, harvesting heather all the while. “But no, she’s not scary at all,” the emerald-eyed she-cat added, to squash any doubt that Bloompaw might have had about her sister’s courage. Tansypaw wasn’t scared of anyone! Ugh, her paws were going to be smelling of heather for the next moon now.
Bloompaw stilled from her seemingly restlessness at the mention of her mentor in the corner of her sight and at the uneasy twitch of her whiskers, Tansypaw stopped what she was doing as well, to give her littermate her full attention. Just from her sister’s tone alone, she could hear that it wasn’t as fine as the Tunneler said it was. Tansypaw knew Bloompaw had a habit of downplaying her own talent and hardwork as much as she did of making excuses for and downplaying others’ laziness. So it was clear Silvershrine was probably worse in reality than Bloompaw was making him out to be. Which, honestly, what else had she been expecting? Silvershrine, the twins really, had been nice and fun when the sisters had been kits, playing with them a few times when Torrentfocus was away or too tired to. However, eventually it seemed the sisters had outgrown them, or at least outgrown Silvershrine, who still hadn’t grown out of their own kithood.
If Tansypaw didn’t envy her littermate having to go down in the tunnels everyday, she really didn’t envy the teacher she’d gotten. “Bloompaw, I know absolutely nothing about tunneling, and even I know Tunnelers aren’t supposed to be in the tunnels by themselves,” she frowned sternly. 
In reality she was frowning at Bloompaw’s mentor, but he wasn’t here right now, so she’d need to have a talk with them later. She put aside her anger for now, to save it for the cat endangering her littermate’s life. She felt indignant on her sister’s behalf. If how that tom acted in camp was any indication to how they acted in the tunnels, she’d be flabberghasted that he’d not only been given such an important apprentice, but their warrior name. “If he gets too bad, you have to talk to Dawnstar,” Tansypaw advised, holding her gaze steadily to Bloompaw’s, “don’t let him turn your training into a joke, I’m serious Bloompaw.” She blinked then, sympathy entering her green eyes, “if you want, I can come with you, or talk to her by myself if you’d rather not.” Bloompaw would never go to talk to the Clan Leader and get her mentor in trouble, she knew that much, but Tansypaw took her own apprenticeship incredibly seriously, and though she still hadn’t understood Bloompaw’s allure of the tunnels, took her apprenticeship just as seriously as well. She would not allow her littermate to be held back by an incompetent mentor.
Bloompaw:
Bloompaw was relieved to know that Skyrose wasn’t scary, or rather, wasn’t scary to Tansypaw. She knew she would still avoid the feisty white cat if she could though. Her sister might not find the Sentinel scary, but that didn’t mean Bloompaw had to. It could change eventually, if she ever got to know Skyrose, but for now.. yeah, no. 
Now she found herself almost shrinking from her littermate’s concerned concentration. She blinked her bright eyes rapidly and smiled nervously. So, the gray she-cat had been truthful, just.. a tad evasive on the full truth. It couldn’t be helped though. Tansypaw knew her too well and had picked up on the unspoken words hidden behind her protecting Silvershrine. “Well, no tunnelers aren’t supposed to be alone,” she mewed feebly, tufted ears twitching as she glanced away from her sister, “it’s dangerous to not have a buddy in the tunnels.” Which was something her ginger splotched sibling had already warned her not to do this morning. She hasn’t let on then, but Bloompaw was so used to being alone in the tunnels that it didn’t quite feel as dangerous as it should.
She sighed softly and turned back to Tansypaw, butting her head softly into the muscled shoulder of her sister. Bloompaw was nervous about the idea of telling Dawnstar about her mentor’s incompetencies. She protested weakly, already knowing it was a lost cause. “Silvershrine is a really skilled Tunneler though, he teaches me a lot when he, er, actually teaches. I think he just has trouble with the responsibility.” When she met her sister’s sympathetic eyes though, the young gray-and-cream cat sighed. Her pelt itched with guilt. How could she complain and defend Silvershrine in the same breath, when Tansypaw was being so sweet to offer help?
“Okay,” she finally said in acceptance,
“If it gets worse you and I can go talk to Dawnstar. I don’t want a different mentor but maybe she’d talk some sense into him?” Bloompaw wasn’t stubborn enough to think she could talk to the idolized leader herself. She was practically awestruck anytime Dawnstar gave her the time of day. Tansypaw wasn’t blinded by any such things and would be able to talk to the rosetted molly normally, explaining the situation. Plus, Tansypaw was right; her training shouldn’t be a joke. She loved tunneling and becoming a Tunneler. It was serious.
“Thank you,” Bloompaw sighed, now feeling a warmth at her sister’s love and protectiveness. Trying to show her appreciation, she scooted closer to her littermate, leaning forward to begin fixing any askew stems of the heather. “I like when you have one color in your pelt, I feel like it makes it stand out more.” She purred, using her nose to nudge a small specimen into place while also changing the topic again—even though she had brought it up.
Tansypaw:
Tansypaw watched as Bloompaw squirmed to defend her mentor, her green sight boring into her sister’s, disbelieving. It was hard to believe that a cat who didn’t do any work, or even keep his eye on their apprentice, could be any good at what they do, but she didn’t argue further. The Sentinel trainee relented in her seige at Bloompaw’s acceptance, nodding as she turned back to her heather once more. Talking to Dawnstar doesn’t mean I can’t give Silvershrine a piece of my mind as well beforehand though. A fair warning, more than he deserves. Tansypaw felt rather just with that thought, very generous of her if she thought so herself. She was sure Bloompaw wouldn’t stand up for her training’s cause to her negligent mentor, or if she did, at least not loud enough to get through the gray tom’s thick skull. “Well, it might not be the worst thing, getting a new mentor assigned,” the newly-beflowered molly shrugged, just putting the idea out there and keeping her eyes on her pelt where she was weaving and placing heather in. She highly doubted anyone could talk sense into that loafer anymore. 
Tansypaw accepted Bloompaw’s thanks and subject change, Silvershrine had wasted enough of their combined time already, no need to focus on him any more than they had to. A flash of warmth blossomed through the ginger-white molly, “Really? It doesn’t look too bad, huh?” Her eyes roved over her now purple-dotted fur, an overwhelming purr breaking loose as Bloompaw nudged a flower. Her sister had a good eye for beautiful things, she trusted her opinion, and no one could make her feel as special as Bloompaw. She leaned her ginger head over to give her littermate a few licks on her cheek, feeling the grit of sand and dust on her tongue as she did so.
Though she had groomed herself (minimally), Tansypaw noticed her sister’s pelt still held a fair amount of dust and debris here and there. The heather sprigs and flowers firmly placed and adjusted, thr Sentinel apprentice moved on from her pelt to Bloompaw’s. She settled down next to her, catching the feather grey tail flicking back and forth in front of her and holding it still between her big, white forepaws as she thoroughly groomed it. Tansypaw thought at times that Bloompaw’s tail acted as a feather duster, attracting all the dirt of the tunnels and all the debris of the moors and forest. 
As she did so, a diagonal slant of golden-tinted sunlight broke through their heather barrier and spread itself out over her pelt. Glancing up at the off-colored heavens, Tansypaw realized the sun had been steadily making it’s descent as the littermates relaxed. Now the fat blob of light lay leisurely on top of the trees of the forest bordering the moors, staining the sky with more yellow hues rather than blue. The lioness watched the sky for a bit, sunsets were always a pretty sight, and always signaled the end of her daily training so she could go home and eat, see Bloompaw, and collaspe to sleep in her nest. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice echoed responsibly that it was time to pack it up and head back to camp, that the Festival wasn’t her vacation, and she’d have to get out of bed early tomorrow morning again. Just a little longer yet, she closed her eyes, enjoying the fleeting time for as much as she could, letting the warm evening rays dance over her face as she kept at Bloompaw’s tail. She might have been less reluctant to go home if that home wasn’t swarming with strangers, but hopefully the Tourists might be too tired to stay up late and hit the hay early. The temperature in the air was already dropping around them, as the sun’s heat no longer sizzled the winds and retreated along with it’s light.
_______________________________________________________________________________________ DAWN SNOW SCENE COMP. ABOV ANY INCOP INTER
Bloompaw: 
Getting a new mentor might be the worst thing ever, but Bloompaw didn’t comment on it further. The two sisters didn’t usually argue, or at least it never went past squabbling. For the most part, Tansypaw knew what was best for the both of them, and Bloompaw didn’t push back. The gray-cream trainee didn’t feel the need to; if her littermate was always looking out for her, she would never do anything that would harm her or her livelihood. Instead, the she-cat let the conversation drop gracefully, rolling into the next topic. The day had been peaceful mainly, and she didn’t feel like ruining it by getting into a ridiculous spat about mentorship. It was a problem for another day.
“It looks beautiful, Tansypaw,” she meowed warmly in response, blinking affection at her sister. She nudged one more flower stalk correctly and leaned away, purring in a friendly manner as her stocky sister gave her cheek a few licks. She squealed in surprise as Tansypaw captured her tail, resisting the urge to flick it out of her grip. Mischievously, Bloompaw rolled her eyes and patted one massive paw on the ginger-and-white she-cat’s head. “Did I not do it correctly?” She teased, giving up and huffing into a laying position.
It was a fair opinion to say that Bloompaw almost never groomed herself all the way. What was the point of the next day she would get all dusty again anyway?
Besides, “You know the sand just makes it look like I have more cream in my fur. It’s pretty,” she said, though her twinkling eyes betrayed this as a joke. Her gaze slitted as the sunlight burst through like a hello on Tansypaw’s pelt. The heather flowers seemed to grow ever more vibrant as the warmth bathed her sister’s finger splotches. She glanced over Tansypaw’s methodical grooming on her mostly gray pelt, watching as the sun crept down the blue sky. She purred as her sister watched for a moment, feeling silently content as they looked at the spreading shades of yellow, orange, and red competing with the blue. She flicked her tail up to softly brush against Tansypaw’s muzzle, then allowed her sister to finish. 
With the end of day being signaled, Bloompaw’s large jaw gaped in a yawn. She wasn’t exhausted by any means, but her stomach had begun to rumble. She was reluctant to return to camp, where Tourists would also be coming back to feast and find sleeping quarters. She just hoped they would all fit in their den and not overflow into others. Having actively avoided the festivities, the young she-cat hadn’t had a chance to count how many had come this season.
“We should head back,” she inquired, sitting up and stretching to lick around Tansypaw’s ears. “I’m hungry, anyway.”
Tansypaw: 
Tansypaw smiled in return, blinking fondly in her way of thanking Bloompaw, which included the free cleaning the slate grey molly was recieving. Her sister seemed to see it differently though, and the ginger she-cat purred warningly, green eyes tilting upwards with a playful shine, as the Tunneler threatened her newly groomed head with a pat from one large, dusty paw. “Just tidying it up a little more,” she mewed politely in between strokes, taking on a motherly air with just the slightest twitch of her whiskers giving it away as a jestly act, “don’t act like a kit, now.” She didn’t dare hope to get all the dust out of Bloompaw’s soft fur, but each lick helped. And she knew by now the usual excuse her littermate put up as a defense, that tomorrow she would come back into camp just as dirty as if she hadn’t groomed just the night before. Still, Tansypaw felt that some effort needed to go into maintaining their appearances, regardless. 
Then, it was the ginger-white giant’s turn to pat her sister’s head with a large paw, after giving her a look of mixed amusement and bemusement. “This isn’t the time to start getting lazy, little lady. I think your mentor is rubbing off on you.” She gave Bloompaw’s tail one last inspection, before releasing it from her caretaking grip, Tansypaw approved. “Anyway, your fur already has the perfect mixure of grey and cream. It’s pretty just the way it is.”
She twitched her pink nose with a grin as Bloompaw tickled it with a flick of her cleaned tail, opening her emerald eyes again just in time to catch her littermate’s contagious yawn, her own maw languidly stretching wide and allowing the evening rays of the sun to glint off her canines. For a moment, everything was perfect. The angle of the sun, the slight breeze, the sound of her sister rustling the heather next to her, and the gentle, cooling touch as she licked around the Sentinel’s ginger ears. And then the world came calling once more, in the form of Bloompaw’s sweet voice.
Tansypaw took in one last deep breath of the moor winds, sighing it out again with a relinquishing nod. “Yeah, we should,” she decided, stretching out her forepaws before getting up herself. “Now that you mention it, I could go for a nice, fat rabbit myself.” The molly tried to think back to her last meal, had it been this morning? She couldn’t remember eating anything before heading out for some quick training practice, but her stomach only felt distantly hollow. A slight echo of hunger, if anything, but something she wasn’t too used to. Well, we have done absolutely nothing productive all day, no wonder I’m not particularly hungry. She sat for a moment more, flicking her own ginger tail at Bloompaw with a smile, before standing and starting back towards the woods, in the direction of camp, waiting for the Tunneler to catch up so the two could pad off side by side.
Bloompaw:
“Looks beautiful,” Bloompaw purred to her littermate, only half being playful and half being serious. She did appreciate when Tansypaw cleaned her up, since she couldn’t be bothered herself. It also just made the two become that much closer when they shared grooming. And although she had been teasing when she mentioned her fur, Tansypaw’s comment about her pelt being pretty did make her chest glow with affection for her sister. The two of them would always shower compliments to each other, but they also wouldn’t hesitate to point out if the other sibling was wrong about something too. Or, at least, Bloompaw might try to point something out and Tansypaw never seemed afraid to. “And thank you, of course.” She licked the larger trainee around the ears one more time and then stood up, stretching the muscles in her legs. They didn’t ache as they usually did after a day of training; instead they had a peaceful buzzing feeling from the tussling. 
“Mm rabbit. Hopefully there will be some left! Might have to fight you for one,” the gray and cream she-cat stuck her tongue out at Tansypaw, feeling her sister’s bushy tail flick her face. With a little trot, she caught up and began walking shoulder-to-shoulder with the other she-cat. After such a relaxing day, with the sun setting in the sky, Bloompaw felt overly content. She knew the moment they stepped paw in camp that her protective shell would wrap around her body again, concealing her in a cocoon of shyness. She’d become Tansypaw’s shadow again, and happily, if they had to be around others. Still, for now, she found her paws stepping more confidently upon the well-trodden ground. In a continuous way, she swished her tail to brush up against her sister’s and occasionally let their flanks brush. It was comforting having a sibling this close.
They maintained a languid pace back to camp, making it to the entrance just as Dawnstar’s yowl sounded out.
Bloompaw pricked her tufted ears in surprise and shot a slightly alarmed, slightly curious look at Tansypaw through her yellow eyes. “What could this be about?” Worry seeped into her fur. What if the Clan was looking for them? Their mentors could have sounded an alarm or something. But when the two she-cats entered the clearing, she looked up at the rosetted molly and relaxed. She wasn’t tense or posed, if anything, Dawnstar looked happy. “Shoot, come on.”
Bloompaw nudged at Tansypaw’s side, pushing her towards the gathering cats but unwilling to arrive there by herself. Then she comfortably settled on the outside of her sister, watching with wide, anxious eyes as many cats joined the growing crowd.