BRB PERFORMING AN ENTIRE BACKFLIP

Moon 5 Part 4

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Fogfreckle’s body hits the ground hard, rolling halfway down the slope as Moonstar slides down after him, pebbles skidding out from under her paws as she rushes to his side.

“Fogfreckle?” Moonstar’s voice wavers as she reaches him in a spray of stones, hovering a scraped paw gently over his bleeding body as she hesitates. He’s just lying there, chest rising and falling shallowly, as blood oozes from thick punctures along his back that stains his pale fur red. Should she roll him over? What if his bones are broken? He’s not dead, by the grace of StarClan, but she’s no medicine cat – she has no idea how close he is to death or how much worse she’ll make it if she tries to move him.

The circling shadow of the eagle drifts over them with another ear-splitting, screeching cry, and Moonstar’s fear makes the decision for her. She grabs Fogfreckle by the scruff of the neck and begins to haul him farther down the slope. She doesn’t want to injure him more than he already is, but she knows it’ll be worse if they’re caught out here on the open mountainside once the larger predators in the area catch scent of his blood and come to investigate.

Fogfreckle doesn’t make a single nose of pain as she pulls him through the dirt. She drags him as far as a tumbled collection of boulders and stones, squeezing into a space between the rocks that is just big enough for Moonstar to fit her body through and drag Fogfreckle in after her. The space is tight, without a lot of room to move, and Moonstar has to swallow panic and bile as the walls seem to press in around them. 

“This is best,” she says aloud to herself, “foxes or fishers can’t reach us in here. It has to be here.” The self-soothing doesn’t do much to abate her claustrophobia, but Fogfreckle makes a pained noise in response to her voice and all thoughts of herself vacate her mind.

Fogfreckle whimpers as Moonstar licks his wounds clean, flinching as she clears dirt from the punctures with her rough tongue. She doesn’t say anything while she works, but she nearly sags in relief with every flinch and whimper from her brother. He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s alive and he’s okay.

“Stay here,” she says at last when she’s cleaned most of the blood and debris from his fur. It’s still oozing sluggishly from his wounds, bright and wet. “I need to find cobwebs. Do you think you broke anything?”

“I don’t think so,” Fogfreckle murmurs, voice weak and faint with exhaustion. 

“Reckless,” Moonstar murmurs back, licking his forehead once. “Alright. Okay. Stay safe. Please, please, stay safe. I’ll get us help, okay? I’ll find someone to help.”

Moonstar scrambles out from under the claustrophobic press of rocks and pelts back up the mountain, swerving trees and boulders and leaping roots as she climbs higher and higher. Panic and grief strangles her thundering heart, pushing her to run faster and faster until her legs are burning. She reaches a break in the pines, a ledge buffeted by the wind, and yowls at the top of her lungs until her voice runs ragged.

“HELP! SOMEBODY, HELP! PLEASE! HELP!”

Her voice echoes back to her across the mountain, mimicking her fear. When it fades, there is only the sound of the mountain. Wind in her ears, the rustle of leaves in the trees, insects that hum in the sun. A sob escapes her, then a full blown wail, and her body collapses beneath her as the lack of response presses against her.

They are alone. At sunrise, she awoke as the leader of this clan, and at sundown she is so terribly, horribly, awfully alone.

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WAUUUUGH MY BOY!!! HE LOOKS SO GOOD THANK YOU SO MUCH EEEEEEE

Decided to take a swing and draw 6 clangen cats again!

@nimbusclan's Fogfreckle

@fluttercats-clangen-yippee Curlbird

@boughclan-clangen Goldenpaw

@tidalclan's Segaspeckle

@ranchclan's Magpiehop!!

@direclan's Skykestrel

>mundanity / stress

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FIRST

Is frogfreckle going to die

Until the next update, he is neither alive nor dead.

Schrodinger's Fogfreckle

I wanted to pay homage to a handful of the blogs that inspire me, so I drew my favorite cats from each!

I didn't realize how many white/gray cats were my favs 'til I started coloring this... I guess I have a type. It was really fun to color this, though - it really expresses how different all of their coats are!

I DID realize that many of my favorites are the nonverbal and/or stoic ones, lmao.

This was so much fun for me! It was a great opportunity to play around with shapes and faces and appearances. I'll definitely do this again in the future!

In order of appearance:

Rivercall, from @castaway-clan

Puddle, from @sporeclan

Cranedance, from @chasing-faith-and-fate

Erminepaw, from @loudclan-clangen

Sharktail, from @rookclan

and Milkfur, from @ranchclan

If you're tagged in this and you don't want to be, shoot me a message and I'll untag you!

>m<

moon 0, page 11.

>hopeful. desperate.

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moon 0

The results are in! I'll go ahead and draw the Spotify Wrapped Special-

But if you DON'T want to see the new cat until they're revealed in the comic, I'll be tagging it as

#NIMBUSSPOILER

so that you can block the tag, if you'd like!

Moon 7

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“All that’s left to do is to find some more cobwebs for you, bring you water-soaked moss, catch us both something to eat…” Moonstar ticks each item off on her claws, recounting the list in her head for the sixth time since waking. She’s been going over it since the sun rose, making sure she won’t forget anything her brother may need while she’s out. “Are you feeling okay?” She asks, reaching a paw towards his cobweb-covered flank. “Does it hurt at a–”

Fogfreckle’s tail easily flicks up between them, blocking her paw. She leaves it hanging awkwardly in the air between them for a heartbeat, confused, unable to tell if he had done that on purpose or not. “Really getting into that leader mindset, huh?” Her brother mews, and though there’s a slight smile to his mouth, his words fall flat as they reach her ears.

On purpose, then.

Moonstar blinks at him, trying to remember where her thoughts had gone before they’d been so succinctly cut off. “I’ve got to stay on top of things with my deputy out of commission, yeah?” She mews lightly. Her neck fur prickles with unease as the smile drops fully from Fogfreckle’s face.

“Yeah.” His voice is painfully blank. He turns his muzzle away from her, as if the boulders crowding in around them are somehow more interesting to look at. “S’pose so.”

Moonstar fidgets from paw to paw, unsure of the sudden tension stifling the two cats in the crammed space. She runs through her mental list yet again, turning each item over in her head like smooth pebbles to see if any of the contents could have pricked at her brother in a way she hadn’t considered. Try as she might, she can’t figure out how the term ‘water-soaked moss’ would have been able to turn his mood sour.

“You’re being really brave about this,” Moonstar starts, switching tactics. Her brother is still staring blankly into the darkness, turned away from her. “Sticking it out through the pain like this. I know it must hurt.”

She reaches out a paw once again, intending to rest it against his flick, but his ears flick backwards and he pushes himself out of reach. Her paw drops, the confusion at his attitude starting to morph into a hurt that yanks at her like brambles.

“I’m not a kit anymore, Moonstar.”

“...Yeah, I know,” Moonstar mews slowly, feeling like she’s padding on thorns. “You’re– you’re my deputy! You’re–

“Could you just leave me alone?” Fogfreckle curls into a tight ball, wrapping his tail over his nose. His shoulders are sharp in the dim light that issues from the crawlspace entrance, the fur along the back of his neck spiky and agitated. Moonstar frowns at the shape of him in the gloom.

If he doesn’t want her emotional support, fine. She swallows down the ball of hurt that is lodged in her throat like a bird bone and lets it out with a rough sigh. Screw her for trying to be helpful. He can rot, for all she cares, as long as he stays here and stays out of trouble.

She stalks towards the entrance of their makeshift den, shoulders brushing the boulder above her. “I’ll go get your moss.”

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