[Fawn]

[googlefont=Oregano]

Berrykit

It had taken Berrykit no time at all to understand her mother's place in the Clan. Darkstar was the figurehead, a mottled force to be reckoned with that Berrykit honestly took no interest in. But Clovermask, with her cool air of command and the way every cat looked to her for instruction... It made Berrykit's chest swell. Her mother was the most important cat in NightClan, and everyone respected her.

If the bengal she-cat told an apprentice to do something, they did it. If a warrior came up with a question, Clovermask had the answer. Berrykit purred with satisfaction every time she saw the patrols go out; it made her chest tighten to have to say goodbye to her mother, but, as she compared herself with the other mundane kits in the nursery, she and her littermates were special. They were the deputy's daughters, and no one else - no matter how hard they trained, or how many prey they caught, would never hold their mother's attention the way they did.

But... lately, it seemed as if Berrykit saw less and less of Clovermask. Something or someone was always holding onto her attention. Or Darkstar would bark some sort of order, and the two would disappear into Darkstar's den for some private discussion Berrykit was not privy to. More than once, the dark kitten had crept forward, trying to pry in on affairs that had - in the kit's mind - something to do with her. But she was thwarted. Often. By some slack-jawed guard or mossheaded warrior who thought they knew better.

If she couldn't go to Clovermask... Then she'd have to make Clovermask come to her.

It had taken days for Berrykit to hatch a suitable plan. Though she saw her mother often, the time they spent together was too short, too brief for her to get that sense of attention and love she was craving. Berrykit had sized up each cat as they entered and exited NightClan's camp. Going outside was too much work; if they wouldn't even let her go to Darkstar's den unattended, no way would they let her slip out and see the rest of NightClan's territory. No... if she was going to do something, it had to be here. She made the tom with thick gray fur her target; Ashsomething was his name. Berrykit didn't remember and didn't care. Clutching a mossball between her tiny jaws, Berrykit scrambled forward as though to bring someone a gift.

"Bluclod? Bluhclod whur aroou?Lessplay moshbohl!" The mossball distorted her sweet words as she darted out right in front of the gray warrior. Just as she expected, one of the warrior's massive paws crunched down on her own tiny paws. It hurt, but Berrykit suppressed a smile, shrieking instead as she deliberately tumbled across the cavern floor. Berrykit shrieked again. "OW! You STEPPED on me! Momma! MOMMA!"

Ashfang took an anxious step back, looking flustered and annoyed. "You jumped in my way!"

Berrykit curled up into a ball, whimpering harder as she kept one eye out for her mother through her own dark fur. The fur on her tail was spiked, as though the sudden pain frightened her - but whether it was the pain of her throbbing front paw or the adrenaline rush of a successful plan, Berrykit didn’t know. That stupid oaf really had broken something; one of her little kitten claws was now snapped into something jagged and short, blood beginning to seep out of the keratin.

”Foxdung. Shadowchaser! Shadowchaser! Someone get him for me.” The warrior’s voice reverberated through the cavern floor. Then, Ashfang nudged the mossball over to her paw to soak up some of the blood.

Berrykit hissed, snatching her paw back. ”Go away! You hurt me!”

Katara || 620~ Words

[Katara]

[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]

if i was born as a blackthorn tree
i'd wanna be held by you, felled by you
fuel the

PYRE OF YOUR
enemies

clover

clovermask.

NIGHTCLAN DEPUTY // 57 MOONS

C

lovermask had always heard queens of the Clan babbling on and on about how having kits changed you, how how it felt to have your heart expand threefold with love for the life you created.... She never expected to want that, but now here she was, with three kits of her own. She couldn’t say for sure if her heart had ‘expanded threefold with love’, but she was certain she would kill for her three daughters. She’d heard stories of queens who’d fought badgers single-pawed out of fierce devotion for the kits they were defending. Those were the stories she could relate to—she would rip out the throat of anyone who threatened the lives of her kits. She had killed for them before, and she wouldn’t hesitate to kill for them again if she had to.

Everywhere she went, she kept her ears pricked—even in meetings with Darkstar, much to her annoyance when she suddenly whisked out at the sound of high-pitched voices outside. Darkstar told her to her face that she hadn't ever imagined she'd make such a devoted mother (with that irritable note in her tone), but Clovermask didn't care. She'd found a new focus, something exciting to throw all her energy into, and she thought she was actually quite good at it. She gave her kits everything they wanted, they simply couldn’t ask for a better mother. And they loved her for it.

She tried to stay in camp more often than not, within earshot of her kits when she couldn’t be with them, so it was with great reluctance she found herself hurrying after Coalmask into the forest when he’d reported a new fox den in their territory. “I thought you said it was nearby,” she snapped at him, unable to disguise her impatience to return to camp already.

“It is! It’s right here,” he meowed, pointing with his muzzle. Clovermask peered out, catching sight of the hollow nestled in the slight rise in the hill ahead. “I heard cries from it earlier, but it’s quiet now. I think a vixen settled and just had her kits.”

Clovermask wondered if she should feel sympathy for the vixen now that she was a mother herself. “I’ll send a patrol to lure out the vixen and drive her out, with or without her kits.” She’d prefer to have the kits killed as well, but it went against the warrior code—technically speaking. Very little sympathy could be afforded in order to protect her Clan. She might not order her warriors to kill the kits themselves, but it was as good as killing them if she separated them from their mother anyway.

She turned around, launching into a run to return back to camp. “You’ll lead the patrol,” she called over her shoulder to Coalmask as they neared the cave.

“Who should I take?”

A faint, but very familiar squealing tore through the air, making her tail fluff up in instant alarm. “Momma! MOMMA!”

She abandoned Coalmask and his question, rushing the last length into camp with claws unsheathed at the distressed sounds of her daughter’s wails. There was Berrykit, curled up with a spiked tail in front of Ashfang as he nudged some moss toward her. Clovermask tasted blood in the air, and the sound of Berrykit’s accusing hiss at the gray warrior told her all she needed to know.

“What in StarClan’s name happened?” she growled, rounding on Ashfang and sweeping her tail protectively around Berrykit. She decided abruptly she wasn’t going to wait for his answer, and dipped her head to touch her nose to Berrykit’s flank, and then dropped her muzzle to her paws, where the source of the blood was coming from. A hot, fiery rush of anger raged through her for just a moment as she contemplated punishing the warrior, but when she raised her head again she swallowed the fury and looked at him cooly. “Ashfang, please join Coalmask’s patrol.” If he was going to stomp on kits tonight, then let them be fox kits. “And let him know he can choose three other warriors to take with him. Leave us,” she ordered sharply, watching him go before looking back at Berrykit.

“That useless lump of fur stepped on you?” She softened her voice, rasping her tongue over her daughter’s head, trying to soothe her as she looked closer at the wound. It looked like one of her claws had snapped. She thought broken claws healed on their own, but she knew very little about healing beyond poisonous herbs. “Let’s get you to Shadowchaser.”

[attr="class","cltag"]tagged Fawn

[attr="class","clnotes"]notes sorry this is so long omg

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[Fawn]

[googlefont=Oregano] [googlefont=Viaoda Libre]

Berrykit

Berrykit nearly purred. The thrill she felt upon getting the result she craved almost made her smile with giddiness. Berrykit pressed against her mother's leg as if she might absorb the colorful swirl of stripes and undertones from Clovermask's coat. The adrenaline was still in her system, and the stinging in her paw felt minimal, though it continued to bleed profusely.

"I missed you, momma." Berrykit proclaimed, and, tail still bushed out, threw a downright poisonous glare at Ashfang as she slowly got back up onto her paws. Ah, yes, here came the pain proper. Berrykit suddenly felt small and delicate, and privately wished Clovermask would pick her up as if she were tiny again and carry her to Shadowchaser's den. But that thirst for attention, for nurturing, bared its kitten teeth against her desire to seem more mature. Capable. Just like her mother.

So Berrykit suppressed a whimper, and gingerly limped in Clovermask's wake to Shadowchaser's den.

The kitten had paid little attention to the dark-furred healer. Beyond knowing his name (he was important enough to warrant at least that much), Berrykit barely acknowledged him as anything more than a figurehead, like Darkstar, already sorting him into the category of 'potential problem' because of his kinship with the cat who outranked Clovermask. But Shadowchaser had never presented himself as anything forceful or aggressive, and Berrykit felt her ears pricking with a kind of haughty interest at his gentle welcome.

Shadowchaser

"I heard her screech, I was just on my way to assess the situation. Are you alright, little one?" Shadowchaser felt the cold fury cloaking Clovermask like a fog, the deputy-queen's anger palpable. Fortunately, Shadowchaser's experiences with Cobrastrike, Darkstar, and even Thornscar, had prepared him well to handle the ire of she-cats. Immediately tasting blood when he lowered his muzzle near Berrykit's paw, as he instructed her to take a seat, Shadowchaser got a closer examination. The kit's tiny claw was split and broken, and he could already see the base of the claw reddened and swelling. "If she were older, I would suggest taking her to the ambush pond and letting her soak her paw in the water for a little while."

Shadowchaser mused aloud, looking to Clovermask's distinctive green eyes. "Instead, I think it's better to wrap the wound in cobweb and a bit comfrey to help with the pain. Be very careful to keep it clean, and do not lick or scratch it, no matter how itchy it gets."

Berrykit fixed him with a look of indignation. "I'm not stupid," she retorted.

Shadowchaser chuckled, dipping his head in agreement. "No, of course not. But healing injuries can sometimes be very, very itchy. Luckily, claws grow back quickly. I don't expect it to impact your future training." With another glance to the Clan's deputy for her consent to heal Berrykit, Shadowchaser got to work, grinding the black roots of comfrey into a thick pulp. Even after so much time doing this, it still took more than a minute to create a successful paste. Gently scraping it off his tongue onto his paw, he applied it to Berrykit's wound, even as her nose scrunched in skepticism and distaste.

Katara || 531 Words

[Katara]

[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]

if i was born as a blackthorn tree
i'd wanna be held by you, felled by you
fuel the

PYRE OF YOUR
enemies

clover

clovermask.

NIGHTCLAN DEPUTY // 57 MOONS

O

h, what a thrill it was to be someone who was missed! Her kit needed her, not someone else - just her. "I know," she murmured, as Berrykit pressed close against her legs. "If I could always be in camp with you, I would. Look what's happened while I've been gone!" She took a few moments to clean her tiny paw, before they turned toward Shadowchaser's den. "Try to keep your paw off the ground," she advised, feeling a faint flicker of worry. How did infections take hold, and would it affect the area around a broken claw?

Shadowchaser began to examine the dark-furred kit, and she pricked her ears at the seemingly simple solution he offered her to her daughter's injury. So much of healing was herb salves and cobwebs and wrapping it all up in cobweb that she was surprised to hear there were other, more passive cures. But it had come with the pretense if she were older. Clovermask repressed a snort of derision; perhaps she was biased, having spent a great deal of her apprenticeship and warriorhood wandering wherever she liked, but she thought it was foolish to keep kits confined to camp at all times. It was why she couldn't bring herself to properly scold Dogkit when she wandered out of camp - why punish her for something she had done herself so many moons ago?

"Very well," she agreed to Shadowchaser's alternate healing option. "I don't imagine the itching should be a problem. Berrykit is very patient when she wants to be." She looked pointedly at the young kit to make it clear patience is what she expected of her. She crouched down again as the medicine cat got to work on gathering the herbs needed, licking Berrykit's paw again to wash off the blood that had bubbled up in the minutes that had passed. Soon enough, he was applying the paste to her daughter's paw as Clovermask looked on closely. "How long does she have to keep that on?" she asked. "And will we have to come back for you to apply it again, or for you to check on it? This isn't something that could get infected, right?" It was embarrassing having to ask so many questions, especially when she'd always acted as gruff as any other warrior when receiving treatment on herself. But when it came to the care for her daughters, it was different.

[attr="class","cltag"]tagged Fawn

[attr="class","clnotes"]notes <3

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[Fawn]

[googlefont=Oregano]

Berrykit

The goop stung!

”Ouch!” Berrykit hissed, snatching her paw back, wanting to shake the gunk free. Shadowchaser was already moving in with the cobwebs, and Berrykit settled for a single growled hiss of protest, settling into a sullen silence.

Even in the midst of her pain, Berrykit was always learning. Her ears swiveled, picking up the short deluge of questions Clovermask aimed at the dark-furred healer. It was… strange, jarring, to think that her mother didn’t know the answer. Of course she doesn’t, she didn’t waste all of her time chewing on plants and sticking them into wounds. Berrykit’s paw still hurt, and the pad itself, if it weren’t already so darkly pigmented, surely would have turned an ugly shade of bluish-purple from the impact. Stupid oaf.

”I want her to keep that on for five sunrises. The cobwebs will need changing after the first three, so you can bring her back. We will rinse her paw then, too, to see how it’s healing. As long as she stays in camp and doesn’t pick at the poultice, she should be just fine. With claws it’s important to give them time to heal and keep dirt and debris out of the broken claw-tip.” Shadowchaser’s response was calmly delivered, the tom not even having to think about the answer.

Berrykit’s tiny tail flicked to and fro, her mind churning with this new information. So she was going to be stuck in camp even longer? Great. Unless…

Berrykit turned her gaze to her mother’s face, adoration and hope rising to the surface like the blood in her nailbed. ”Will you stay with me, Momma? Please? In the nursery?” Berrykit’s heart knew that her mother’s presence was in high demand, but the chance to drag this out.. Keep hoarding her attention… it was too great. And ‘selflessness’ was not something Berrykit had been taught. ”I’ll rest and get better quickly. I promise.” Just as long as you’re there with me.

Katara || 344 Words