Female | 16 | nerd | Writer Blogclan
Hi! Y’all can call me Astersong. My warrior cat is a lot like me - perky, creative, quiet (at times), smart, and sweet, all with the attitude of a little kit! In real life, I’m a 16 year old girl. Don’t worry, I won’t bite! I love books and video games (especially fantasy), as well as theater and music. Warriors has been a part of my life ever since third grade, and I am so glad to get to be a part of this blog. If you feel like getting to know me, I’d love to talk fandoms! I’m a nerd at heart. May StarClan walk your path! :p
A collection of my fanfics
South Of StarClan
Death hung like heavy fog over the WindClan camp. Beamkit’s mother, Cherryfur, was standing still as a stone as the elders carried the kit’s tiny body to his resting place. She held in her tears, but every time she thought she might control herself, a sob would rack her body and the water spilled out. Beamkit was too young. He had hardly lived 3 months before the greencough had settled into his fail bones. Mothflight, StarClan bless her, had done everything she could to save his life, but the snow had killed every leaf of catnip in their territory, and the other clans were suffering the same fate. They had given Beamkit soaked moss, and poultices and made his nest as warm and comfortable as possible. They had done everything, but they could not save the kit. Mothflight said he’d died peacefully in his sleep. Cherryfur realized the tears were once again wetting her cheek fur. She wiped them away and hugged Weedkit, the daughter she had left, close to her chest. “I’m... so sorry,” she whispered to nobody. The moor wind blew the words from her mouth, as if carrying a message. A message that would never be returned.
They were burying him now. She watched as the dirt covered the soft white fluff that was her kit until he was gone. The sobs took control of Cherryfur again. What if Weedkit forgot him? What if the clan, after a few seasons, had erased him from memory? No. They can’t. He’s my kit.
Mothflight slowly padded over to the grieving mother and sat beside her. They sat in silence a few moments, staring at the sky as it turned dark.
“I can’t imagine the pain you’re in right now, but I do understand.”
Cherryfur blinked at the sky and remained silent.
“I never had to bear watching my kit die, but I did have to surrender my four kits to the other clans. I lost them. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but StarClan willed it.” Mothflight paused, the old memories washing over her like cold rain. Cherryfur turned, her watery eyes curious. The breeze ruffled their fur like the breath of a gentle beast. Mothflight took a deep breath and continued.
“And I now know they are living out their bright and beautiful future in their new homes. They’re in a better place than I could ever offer,” Mothflight mewed. “It’s the same with Beamkit. It hurts like a thorn to the heart to let him go, but now he’s in a clan greater than ours. One day when you join the ranks of StarClan, he’ll be there, waiting to welcome you with joy in his eyes.”
Cherryfur smiled for the first time in days, a small purr rumbling in her throat. “Thanks, Mothflight,” she said, a little light creeping back into her eyes.
The medicine cat nodded. “Anytime.”
Cherryfur got to her paws and headed to the freshkill pile, thinking she’d feel better after a few mouthfuls. Her heart still throbbed with sorrow, but at least she could think clearly. Mothflight - what a great clanmate.
Mothflight still sat where Cherryfur had been. She gazed at the stars, her whiskers tingling with anticipation. The stars were beginning to gleam in the twilight sky, one appearing, and then another. Soon the dusty silver glow of StarClan filled the sky. Mothflight listened and watched, imagining what StarClan would be doing to welcome their youngest newcomer. Beamkit, she prayed. I hope you find your way home.
Beamkit blearily blinked his eyes open. Licking his lips a few times, he rolled onto his paws and shook out the last few tingles of sleep. Phew, he thought. That was the first time I’ve been able to sleep well in MOONS! A good night’s sleep must have really done the trick, because his throat didn’t hurt anymore and the ache in his muscles was completely gone. “Mommy!” He called. “I feel better! Can I go out and play with Weedkit now?” But Cherryfur wasn’t there. Neither was Mothflight. Beamkit wasn’t even in the medicine den anymore. All around him was grass and darkness - dry, breezy grass that receded into a black sky a few fox-lengths away from him.
Where am I?
“Mommy?” Beamkit called again, but the sound traveled to nowhere except the open, silent air. “Weedkit?”
Beamkit lifted his nose in the air and opened his jaws like a real warrior on patrol. He caught a whiff of something behind him, and turned to face the scent, breathing deeply. Yuck! The air was putrid, smelling of mud and crow-food and blood! Beamkit exhaled deeply through his nose to clear it. Whichever way home was, he wasn’t going that way. Beamkit turned back forward and tried to smell something other than that foul odor. He carefully took a few steps forward through the tall grass. The grass didn’t smell like grass, strangely. It smelled more like... nothing. Hmm.
“Mommy?” Beamkit called, even louder. He’d never been to this place before. He’d never even been out of camp. So where was he now?
Suddenly, Beamkit caught a whiff of a new smell. It actually smelled... nice. Like warm nests and sunshine and fresh-kill and family. Beamkit smiled. Now I know where to go!
Beamkit made a sure path forward, following the promising aroma. The air was cool and still, and it was still pitch black all around. Beamkit strained his ears, but all he could detect was deafening silence. After what felt like an eternity, he was able to see a pinprick of silvery light in the distance. Beamkit ran towards it with renowned energy.
The bit of light, which turned out to be a shining gray tomcat, blinked slowly.
“Hello, Beamkit,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’m sure you’re worried and confused. My name is Graywing, and I’m here to help you find your way home.”
Beamkit grinned in delight, but all that came out was: “You have stars in your fur!”
Graywing gave a little laugh. “I suppose I do. Come on and follow me, Beamkit.”
Graywing smelled safe and a little like the moor, and his gray fur shimmered like sunshine on a rain puddle. Beamkit trotted behind him happily as Graywing said helpful things like, “Keep up now,” and “Mind your step,” and “We’re almost there”. Suddenly the tom stopped and looked Beamkit solemnly in the eyes. “Listen closely, Beamkit. I now need to to follow directly in my pawprints, whatever may happen. Do you understand?”
Beamkit nodded, slightly nervous. “Yes, Graywing,”
“We’ll be there before you know it. In my pawprints, now.” And he took off again. Beamkit followed true to his word, putting each of his paws into the craters of Graywing’s steps. Graywing had even slowed his pace so that the kit’s tiny legs could reach his strides. The shimming cat’s slope gradually began to rise, but the ground remained flat as ever. Beamkit gasped. Graywing looked as if he was climbing an invisible hill, and with a few steps, Graywing was standing in the air several tail-lengths above the earth. The steps that he had taken remained visible in the air behind him, his pawprints shimmering, levitating, as if in pockets of stars. It was unbelievable and beautiful, and Beamkit wanted to try. Beamkit remembered Graywing’s words and carefully placed a paw into one of the silver impressions. It felt cool and flat, like a pawprint on the earth, even though it very clearly was not. He pushed his weight into it. It held as sturdy as a stone. Beamkit reached up with his other paw and placed it in another starry pawprint. It held too. Beamkit pulled his hind legs up behind him, and just like that, he was standing in the air as easily as if he had been standing in his nest. Graywing was continuing his ascent, and Beamkit had to hurry to keep up. The pawprints vanished once Beamkit stepped off of them. Once or twice one of the kit’s paws missed a pawprint, and Beamkit, heart throbbing, regained his balance before he fell and continued on the path. The uphill slope was steep and hard, and the wonder of climbing into the sky began to wear thin. Thankfully Graywing’s path began to level off, and suddenly he stepped onto a ground of shining soil. All four of his paws stood on solid ground. Beamkit bounded behind him and sank his little claws into the soft dirt with pleasure.
“Wow!” He panted when he was able. “That was neat! You’re fun, Graywing. Maybe we could play sometime. Wait until I tell the other cats that I flew like a hawk!”
Graywing smiled a sort of sad smile. “Congratulations, Beamkit. You’ve made it home.”
Beamkit looked around, but all he could see was sparkling light. Everything here sparkled, the grass, the trees, the dirt, the sky. The land was warm and lush, much different from the leaf-bare at WindClan. There were open moors and bubbling streams, tall pines and crowded forests, rocky slopes and grand trees to climb. The scent of prey was stronger than ever, and a soft breeze played with Beamkit’s fluffy white fur. With a start, Beamkit saw that he was sparkling, too. His pelt glittered just like Graywing’s, as if tiny shards of frost had become imbedded into his fur. As he moved, his fur shimmered in the sun like a thousand stars. Beamkit felt light and strong and carefree. In the sun and in the shade, he could see other starry cats hunting fat prey, dozing, and grooming one another. Laughs and purrs echoed through the shining territory.
“Where are we?” Beamkit asked Graywing in wonder.
Graywing brushed against his shoulder. “Welcome, my dear kit, to StarClan.”
“StarClan?” He gasped.
“Are you a StarClan cat?”
Beamkit pointed to the other cats around them. “Are they StarClan cats?”
“Yes,” Graywing meowed. “Though they were all originally from different clans, they have gathered here in peace to rest.”
“They don’t fight over prey? Or territory? Or one clan calling another clan a mouse-brain?” Beamkit was bewildered.
“No, we don’t.” Graywing purred. “Here, the prey runs thick enough to feed everyone to their heart’s content. There is no need to secure borders or territory. Though sometimes there are a few arguments over which clans are the most mouse-brained.”
“WindClan isn’t mouse-brained, that’s for sure!” Beamkit began to chase a low-flying butterfly as they talked. Its iridescent wings shimmered as it flitted just out of Beamkit’s reach. “WindClan can run fast and catch rabbits in the blink of an eye! And Windstar is the best leader ever! Who’s StarClan’s leader?”
“We don’t need a leader in StarClan. There are lots of cats in StarClan who have been leaders. We like to work together to come of with plans for our clan, all of us.”
“A little, but that’s how it is. Now would you like to meet some of my friends? I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”
The butterfly floated a little too low, and Beamkit pounced like a warrior on unsuspecting prey. He almost caught the butterfly, but it escaped his claws and flew up into the sky, impossibly high to reach. “That depends,” the kit said haughtily. “Are they SkyClan mouse-brains or Shadow-Clan fox-hearts?”
Graywing sighed, his tail flicking through the grass with a hint of impatience. “No! I told you now there are no barriers between the clans! Everyone can talk to anyone, Beamkit. Let’s go talk to them.”
Beamkit suddenly stopped. “What about WindClan?”
“Is there a barrier between WindClan and StarClan?”
Graywing stumbled over his words. “I-I don’t... Beamkit-“
“Where are my friends, Graywing? Where are Windstar and Mothflight? Where’s Cherryfur? Where is Weedkit?” Beamkit began to grow worried. “I want to see my friends here in StarClan. If I can’t see my friends, I want to go back to WindClan! Please, Graywing. Bring me to my friends!”
Graywing looked sad, like he was trying to push back bad memories. “I’m very sorry, Beamkit, but we have to wait until your friends from WindClan come here.”
“How long will that take?”
Graywing’s voice became very soft. “It will probably take a very long while.”
Beamkit couldn’t understand. Grown-up cats always acted strange around kits. Beamkit’s spine began to prickle, and he felt himself grow angry at him. Beamkit drew very close to Graywing to get his attention. “Why?” He snapped, a bit of whine creeping into his voice. “Why does it take long? Why can’t I see them?”
Graywing blinked a few times and opened his mouth to speak. He closed it again and looked away very sadly.
Beamkit stifled a growl. Graywing was acting like the grown-up cats around camp when he was sick! Beamkit would ask them if he would be okay, and they’d get all quiet and strange. Please just tell me where my friends are, Beamkit thought. You said I was home. Then where is my family?!
It was quiet for quite a while. Beamkit wanted to go play with the other happy-looking cats in the field, but decided to stay next to Graywing until he got an answer. Beamkit knew that usually when grown-up cats didn’t give you a good answer, they were hiding a better one. So Beamkit sat and listened to Graywing stutter.
“I-I have something to show you, Beamkit,” the gray cat said finally. He rose to his feet and beckoned Beamkit to follow.
Beamkit rolled his eyes and trotted after him. Just a little more of this mouse-brained circling around, he thought, and then I’m heading straight back to WindClan.
A Compilation of my theories, discussions, and other stuff