Post by bee on Jul 3, 2022 22:49:11 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/WfK6sDr/spooder~jpg
Spiderstorm
basic information
NAME: Spiderstorm. Spiderpaw. Spiderkit.
AGE: 71 moons
CLAN: RidgeClan
RANK: Senior warrior
GENDER: Tom (he/him)
INTERESTED IN: Gray-ace, generally uninterested
MATE: Closed
MENTOR: Icefang
APPRENTICE: Closed
→ Acornbelly
→ Batsong
PREFIX: Spider- for his dark fur and tabby markings; later in life goes on to emphasize his long legs
SUFFIX: -storm for his tendency to be quick to anger and his determination, as well as his prowess in battle
appearance
Spiderstorm is a tall cat, lanky and long. While he does not necessarily appear muscular or sturdy, he is a force to be reckoned with in battle with his quick movements and heavy blows. There's no need to be build for endurance when you can end a battle quickly with speed and strength, after all.
His fur is a dark gray with faint dark tabby markings, appearing solidly gray in dim lighting. His eyes are a pale green, bright against the dark of his fur. His features are sharp (fitting with his personality), with angular features and a narrow face.
His fur is a dark gray with faint dark tabby markings, appearing solidly gray in dim lighting. His eyes are a pale green, bright against the dark of his fur. His features are sharp (fitting with his personality), with angular features and a narrow face.
description
Heathernose has been enamored with Sootfire ever since they were apprentices. He is older by five moons, and young Heatherpaw developed a crush on him as soon as she became a 'paw. He ignored her for a good while, convinced she was childish and immature (which, for a while, was true.) Instead of entertaining her, Sootpaw is preoccupied with spending time with the older apprentices and focusing on competition and developing talents. There is no time for starry-eyed girls, in his opinion.
This opinion changes alarmingly fast during Heathernose's warrior ceremony. Sootfire, sitting in the crowd, is suddenly taken aback by just how pretty the she-cat was. Has she always had such soft fur and beautiful eyes? Heathernose later insists that yes, of course she had, no matter how much he continues to question it.
Things take a natural course from there. Abrasive and hard-headed Sootfire seems to be tamed by the much more mellow and sweet-natured Heathernose. Of course, their relationship isn't without its bumps. Sootfire is quick to anger, ready to jump into an argument at a moment's notice, and while Heathernose is calm and thick-skinned, there are many instances where the Clan is sure that the relationship won't last much longer.
Miraculously, the two remain mates, and soon, their love results in a litter of three kits. Batkit, the darkest of the litter, Nettlekit, a pale gray like her mother, and Spiderkit, his gray and black fur transition between his sisters.
Sootfire is thrilled, his voice loud and eager as he looks upon his family. Heathernose, tired from the labor, fondly (but sternly), tells him to please be quiet. Not for the sake of his deaf kits, but for her own ears, and the ears of any other unlucky queen to be in the nursery at the same time.
❧
The kits can't be more different from the start. Batkit, small and delicate, is clearly her mother's daughter. As soon as she can, she is smiling, never one to initiate trouble, but certainly one to start it at times. She becomes a favorite of visiting Clanmates.
Nettlekit, on the other paw, is bolder and louder, taking after her father without his hostility. She is confident and charming, often trundling around camp while leading Batkit around on adventures.
Lastly, Spiderkit, unlike either parent, is quiet and observant, more content to watch the bustle of Clan life from the mouth of the nursery or listen to stories from the warriors and elders. While his father tries to convince him to join his sisters, Spiderkit is content to remain at his mother's side.
❧
As their apprenticeship approaches, Sootfire seems to be growing more excited than his own kits with each passing day. An involved Clan member, he has high expectations for his kits and is eager to share his life among the pines with his children.
"They will have mentors to show them the territory, Sootfire." Heathernose says, several times, more and more exasperated with each repetition.
"Well, yes, but I can certainly help, can't I? No cat knows the mountain better than me, after all!" He retorts, resulting in several eye rolls or scowls from any warriors passing by.
Batkit and Nettlekit both share his eagerness, chasing each other about the camp and pouncing on each other with over-exaggerated hunting moves. Sootfire watches with a puffed out chest, reaching out to correct a pose here and there, his eyes beaming with pride.
Spiderkit instead sits to the side, either watching his sisters as they practice with their father or instead indulging in his usual hobby of watching the bustle of Clan life. Heathernose often joins him, crouching next to her son and settling into a comfortable silence with him. She does not push him to practice with his father or socialize with the other kits. They simply sit together, and her shoulder becomes a frequently used resting place for his head.
❧
Their apprentice ceremony goes smoothly. Batpaw, her black fur gleaming with her mother's morning groom, is assigned to a young but eager warrior. Nettlepaw, a little less put-together due to the fit she had pitched in response to the excessive grooming, was assigned to a more experienced Clanmate.
Good matches, in Spiderkit's mind. Batpaw's mentor wouldn't be too stern for her sweet personality and Nettlepaw's would be able to keep up with her fierce energy.
He is assigned to Iceclaw, a muscular no-nonsense warrior with narrow eyes and a scarred pelt. Spiderpaw eagerly touches noses with her. He is pleased with the assignment.
It is his father who is not.
Impressively, Sootfire manages to hold his tongue until after the ceremony, after which he promptly stomps up to Spiderpaw and Iceclaw. "There's no way I'm letting you train my son." He fumes, an old (and probably foolish) rivalry from younger moons causing his anger.
Iceclaw looks at Sootfire, unimpressed, and the silence is heavy before Spiderpaw steps forward, fixing his father with a fierce stare. "This is my mentor. I won't let you change that."
Sootfire's head jerks back, surprised at his quiet son's intervention. He looks to Heathernose for support but finds none, as she frowns at him, appalled at the scene he is making over something so petty. Fur bristling, he turns away with a sharp huff, storming out of camp to work through his anger.
Spiderpaw doesn't watch him leave and shakes his head dismissively at Iceclaw's uncertain question as to whether he is okay. Spiderpaw doesn't care what his father thinks. He knows what he wants, and no cat is going to stop him.
❧
Spiderpaw's time as an apprentice does not get any easier after his father's outburst.
It is not a problem with Spiderpaw's own abilities. Rather, his new denmates are the source of his newest challenge. One apprentice in particular, Boarpaw, is the ringleader. Older by three moons, the apprentice is short and stout, popular among his fellow apprentices with his over-the-top personality.
"What are you so shy for, Spiderpaw?" he crows during the first evening as Spiderpaw carefully sets up his next. "Do you really think you'll be able to catch a mouse if you act like one?"
Spiderpaw knows he isn't shy, so the words do not hurt. He has better things to focus on than building a reputation among the other apprentices. Besides, maybe if he ignores Boarpaw, the older apprentice will find something more exciting to focus on.
Boarpaw instead takes Spiderpaw's continued silence as a challenge.
The teasing continues, accusing Spiderpaw of being scared of heights and the dark, of being afraid of being scooped up by an eagle while out in the territory. Warriors, including Iceclaw, scold the older apprentice, and Boarpaw backs off for a while before trying again. Spiderpaw still does not care.
Not until he sees Iceclaw beginning to treat him differently.
Iceclaw is not an emotional cat. She is logical and work oriented, not unlike her pupil. But, being avoidant of such emotional encounters, she does not know how to approach him about his relationships with his denmates. Are Spiderpaw's feelings hurt? Is he really afraid of the path set before him? A cat of action rather than words, she begins to slow down their training, simply to see if that improves Spiderpaw's prospects.
Spiderpaw is furious.
First at Iceclaw, suddenly seeming so weak-minded to seriously consider the childish teasing of a half-made warrior. Then at Boarpaw, the source of such unexpected issues.
They are outside the apprentice den when Boarpaw mockingly asks Spiderpaw about his training, and it is then that Spiderpaw turns and lunges. Surrounding apprentices scatter, some bolting to find a warrior to intervene while fearing the worst, and Boarpaw lets out a surprised wail at the sudden retaliation.
Spiderpaw quickly pins the other to the ground, paws digging into the older apprentice's shoulders. His claws remain sheathed and he makes no move to go any further with his attack.
"I was just kidding!" Boarpaw blurts up at him, eyes wide with alarm.
Spiderpaw's paws dig a little harder into the other, but he otherwise remains still, face hovering over the other's before his lips lift in a snarl. "Don't do it again." And with that, he steps off, Boarpaw remaining on the ground a moment longer before scrambling to his paws.
The apprentices who previously fled the scene return with two warriors, who frown with confusion at the entirely non-violent scene before them. The details of the incident make their way to both Spiderpaw and Boarpaw's mentors, and the pair are sentenced to a week of tending to the elders.
Boarpaw sulks, which Spiderpaw does not care about.
Iceclaw is no longer tip-toeing around him, and that is all that matters.
❧
Spiderpaw pays little attention to his fellow apprentices. Companionship seems to be of little concern to him, and Iceclaw does little to encourage bonding among his peers, being an antisocial cat herself. He is surprised when his attention is caught by Wolfpaw.
They had been apprenticed around the same time, though Wolfpaw had given Spiderpaw little to care about. The other tom is sociable and chatty, talking to all their fellow apprentices as though friendship was his goal rather than warriorhood.
Annoying, really.
Then came the vicious spar that Wolfpaw had with his mentor, Gorsethorn, the other apprentice showing a fire and strength that he had not shown before. Spiderpaw is intrigued, truly noticing Wolfpaw for what feels like the first time.
They grow close afterwards, Spiderpaw joining him over prey to talk of the Clan and the future. Heavy talks, too heavy for two young cats, but their desire to see a better RidgeClan was bigger than the two of them. A loyalty to each other develops quickly, Wolfpaw becoming his first true friend.
❧
Moons go by. Spiderpaw learns and grows, and it isn't until he is ten moons old that he realizes he has not spent extended time with his sisters since their apprentice ceremony. He has been so focused on his training that spending time with them outside of his time with Wolfpaw has simply...not occurred to him.
It is a fellow apprentice, Mosspaw, who reminds Spiderpaw that he even has sisters when the other apprentice tries to casually ask about whether Nettlepaw has her eyes on any toms.
It is easily one of the most awkward experiences of Spiderpaw's life to carefully approach his sisters at the fresh-kill pile one evening. Nettlepaw and Batpaw look at him with surprise, looking between themselves and their brother for several painfully long moments.
Nettlepaw is the first to move, frowning and picking up her vole to step away and join some of her other fellow apprentices.
Spiderpaw frowns back, but before his anger can grow, Batpaw steps forward. She smiles at him, touching her nose to his as though it hasn't been moons since they have talked.
❧
"Nettlepaw doesn't hate you." Batpaw attempts to explain one evening as they compare hunting crouches. They have continued their meetings, Spiderpaw attempting to preserve his familial relationships as well as focusing on his training. Heathernose had not been happy when he had admitted to distancing himself to his siblings, after all.
"Well, she is certainly acting like it." Spiderpaw retorts, shifting a bit to better mimic his sister's position. Batpaw is proving to be a skilled huntress in contrast to Spiderpaw's battle prowess. Spiderpaw takes advantage of their time together to have his sister show him techniques and positions that he has struggled with.
"You know how she is...she's always been dramatic!" Batpaw reaches out, tapping on his legs to correct his stance before shrugging. "I think her feelings are hurt. She was really frustrated when you started ignoring us, y'know. You should apologize to her."
Spiderpaw frowns a bit, focusing on his paws as he relaxes into the crouch. "Mm. I'll try."
He doesn't.
❧
It is finally time.
Batpaw and Nettlepaw are to receive their warrior names alongside him and Wolfpaw, Heathernose watching proudly from the crowd. Sootfire sits apart from her, just as proud despite the distance. Their relationship had soured after the apprentice ceremony of their children and had only gone downhill from there, the differences in their personalities finally catching up to them.
It hardly mattered to Spiderpaw, but Batpaw had confided in her sorrow regarding their parents and their separation.
Spiderpaw's relationship with Nettlepaw hasn't gotten better, either, due to a stubborn lack of effort from either apprentice. This also distressed Batpaw.
These are distant concerns compared to finally becoming a warrior.
Batpaw is named Batflower for her accepting and kind heart, and Nettlepaw is named Nettlethorn for her protective and caring nature.
"Spiderpaw, from this moment on you shall be known as Spiderstorm. StarClan honors your determination and spirit, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RidgeClan."
His heart swells with pride as he looks upon his cheering Clanmates. He isn't done yet, though. He knows he can aim higher, and he is pleased that Wolfsong shares his ambition. He is sure that with the other tom at his side, they can achieve the impossible.
❧
“Batflower tells me that you and Nettlethorn aren’t talking.”
Heathernose’s voice is casual as she speaks over the rabbit she and Spiderstorm are sharing. His eyes flash up quickly towards her, briefly angry at Batflower for speaking of such a foolish think to their mother. “She-” He breaks off, eyes shutting as he composes himself, though he continues to frown as he focuses back on his rabbit. “It’s nothing.”
“You shouldn’t dismiss family so quickly, Spiderstorm.” Heathernose chastises him, her voice still full of love despite his behavior. “I don’t want my kits to not have each other’s backs later in life.”
He is silent, studying the patterns in the rabbit’s fur between his paws.
“You need to keep your friends and family close, Spider. Don’t forget that.”
Hm. Friends. He knows he considers Wolfsong a dear friend, but outside of him? He doesn’t admit to his mother that he has few aside from the other tom, but he is sure that she knows.
❧
His and Boarheart’s relationship has not improved over the moons.
While the older tom no longer picks on his fellow warrior, Spiderstorm can hear his snide remarks behind his back and feel the other’s disapproving stare even in the darkest parts of the forest.
He should have expected Boarheart would lash out eventually.
“You’re out late.” The other accuses as he meets Spiderstorm in the territory one evening, amber eyes bright as he stands across from the other tom.
“So are you.” Spiderstorm retorts, moving to step around him, but Boarheart jumps to intercept his path.
“No, no, I mean, you’ve been out late. Several nights now! What are you up to?”
Spiderstorm, previously only annoyed, feels himself growing angrier as Boarheart continues. “I’m working. And I would like something to eat and sleep, if that’s okay with you.”
Boarheart’s chest puffs out, committed to whatever idea he has planted into his head. “Working, Yeah, right! You’re hiding something, Spiderstorm! What, you got a secret mate? Meeting with some PrairieClan she-cat?”
The claims are foolish, unfounded, and simply idiotic, but Spiderstorm’s anger bursts forward and he lunges. Boarheart is ready, and the pair meets with claws and fangs out.
Beartheart’s paw connects with Spiderstorm’s head, clawing above his eye, while Spiderstorm bites down on the other’s ear and rips.
Finally, Spiderstorm has the bulkier tom pinned, staring down at him like they were apprentices again. This time, though, his claws dig into the other’s shoulders as he holds him there.
“How dare you! Everything I do, I do for RidgeClan and my Clanmates, and that includes self-obsessed fools like yourself!” His eyes are fierce, staring down for a few moments longer at Boarheart’s startled gaze. After a moment, Spiderstorm lets out a shaky breath, eyes closing as he carefully steps off the other tom.
“I-...I apologize, Boarheart.” He mumbles, rubbing a paw across his cheek where blood from his wound has dripped onto.
Boarheart, picking himself up off the ground with a few overdramatic huffs and grunts, shakes his head. “Nah, it’s cool. I...was really pulling at nothing there. I’ve always thought you were an entitled ass, but...maybe I was wrong. I dunno. It’s whatever.”
“I was entitled?” Spiderstorm repeats softly, and Boarheart laughs loudly with a shrug.
“Come on, I said I was maybe wrong. Let’s get going. Hopefully Goldenberry isn’t sleeping.”
Goldenberry is, in fact, sleeping, and is not at all happy that two young warrior were waking her and her apprentice. Boarheart insists that they fell out of a tree, Spiderstorm resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the other’s terrible excuse. Goldenberry isn’t fooled, either. She knows the marks of a fight.
She says nothing about it, though, sending them on their way after she treats their wounds.
❧
In a million moons, Spiderstorm never would have imagined Boarheart becoming something of a friend.
After their forest fight, though, the other tom’s behavior changes towards him dramatically. He insists on being a part of the same patrols, eating meals with him, and even scoots his nest close to Spiderstorm’s, much to Wolfsong's irritation.
With Boarheart comes his friends. Sedgewing and Palefang are two young warriors, opposites in personality as well as appearances. Sedgewing is a lanky black cat, overly friendly and bubbly, whereas Palefang is a snarky and arrogant cat, shorter with a white coat.
Still, despite their differences, the pair seem to be inseparable, Boarheart (and now Spiderstorm, to his annoyance), coming second to their own friendship.
Spiderstorm's nights are now filled with the playful bickering of the three, loud laughter and over-exaggerated teasing. Spiderstorm has never expected to find friendship like this, not so quickly nor in these expressive cats, but he finds he isn’t completely disappointed.
They do not replace his previous friendship with Wolfsong, but he finds himself momentarily distracted from their future planning. No longer are his nights filled with hushed discussions while gazing at the stars. He only wishes Wolfsong would join him and his new friends, but distance grows.
Spiderstorm regretably does not close it.
❧
It isn’t long before he is assigned his first apprentice.
“I have a challenge for you, Spiderstorm.” Dovestar had said softly to him the evening before. “An apprentice.”
Spiderstorm had initially dismissed such a task as challenging. He knows his work just as well as any other warrior, if not better. Surely it wouldn’t be difficult to pass on such knowledge to a younger cat. Conveniently, he chooses to ignore dwelling on any challenges he had given his own mentor.
It isn’t until he is nose-to-nose with Acornpaw that he realizes that Dovestar may have been right.
Acornpaw bounces between every emotion under the sun faster than Spiderstorm can keep up. Within their first day together, Spiderstorm sees her bounce so high in her excitement that he is sure she could have touched a branch, and also watches her experience so much anxiety that she jumps at every rustle in the undergrowth.
Expressive, energetic, and emotional, she seems to be most everything that Spiderstorm isn’t.
A challenge, indeed.
❧
He starts Acornpaw with hard work, an outlet for her energy but also supplying her with what he had wanted in his own apprenticeship. He ensures that she always has something to do, offering challenges early on and spending little time on relaxing.
Acornpaw keeps up with his eagerly for the first moon, but by the second, he sees that she is dragging her paws and seeming less and less enthusiastic to partake in whatever Spiderstorm has planned for her each day.
Was she doubting herself? Did she not find satisfaction with her future as a warrior? He softly shares these concerns with Boarheart one evening after they return to their nests, and Boarheart fixes him with an incredulous stare.
“Seriously, Spiderstorm?” he asks, and Spiderstorm frowns, body tensing with irritation. “C’mon, Spider. You’ve been working her to death since day one. She needs a break. You don’t need to push her so hard.”
His mentoring technique insulted, Spiderstorm bristles and turns away from the other tom. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he snaps, “I was wrong to ask you.”
Boarheart sputters with surprise and his own anger, but Spiderstorm turns stubbornly away and ignores him, facing the opposite direction as he settled down to sleep.
❧
He finds himself going over Boarheart’s words through the following days. The pair haven’t talked since their tiff, and while Spiderstorm is still annoyed, he finds himself admitting that perhaps Boarheart wasn’t completely wrong.
He had been training Acornpaw how he had wanted to be trained, hard work and challenges, someone pushing him as far as he could go and then even further. From what he has learned about Acornpaw in their time together, this isn’t what she wanted nor needed.
Acornpaw did not have bold ambitions, did not want to be anything other than a capable warrior for her Clan. It shouldn’t have been such a startling realization to him that this was okay, that just because he wanted to aim high and work himself hard doesn’t mean other cats had to as well.
An embarrassing realization, and Spiderstorm knows he has to relax for Acornpaw’s sake.
❧
The next morning, she sits before him, eyes tired but her cheerful personality never fading despite being burnt out. “What will we work on today, Spiderstorm?”
Looking down at her, he smiles faintly. “I thought we would just explore today. Would that be alright?”
Her relief and joy is almost overwhelming, and he apologizes to Boarheart that evening.
❧
The rest of their training goes smoothly. Taking time to slow down with Acornpaw allows Spiderstorm to begin to enjoy his young apprentice’s energy, her antics leading to amusement rather than being off-putting. He explores the territory with her and they run through the trees in the evening, sometimes doing it just for fun rather than with any particular goal in mind.
It is...nice.
Boarheart congratulates him on finally having the stick up his ass removed, and Spiderstorm very promptly shoves the other’s face into a bush.
❧
Acornpaw becomes Acornbelly at thirteen moons, Spiderstorm looking on proudly as his apprentice joins RidgeClan's ranks as a warrior. She touches noses with Dovestar a bit too eagerly, almost knocking their foreheads together, but Dovestar thankfully grins and praises her enthusiasm.
She joins him and Boarheart after the ceremony, tail-tip twitching nervously as she looks up at him.
“Erm, Spiderstorm...we can still hunt together, right? Even though I’m not your apprentice anymore?”
Spiderstorm blinks with surprise before laughing softly, touching his nose to her forehead. “Of course we can. Anytime you want.”
❧
Heathernose is injured.
Batflower brings him the news as he enters the camp, her eyes wild and fearful.
“Goldenberry won’t say whether she will be okay or not. She’s really hurt, Spiderstorm-”
He drops his prey where he is standing and bolts to the medicine cat’s den, Batflower at his heels as he slides to a stop at the den’s entrance. Heathernose is, indeed, very hurt. Her fur is matted with bright blood and sickening injuries. Spiderstorm is frozen to the spot. “What happened?” The words barely make it out of his throat, faint and rasped.
“A hawk.” Batflower shakily responds from behind him, her eyes wide as she stares at their mother. “The guardian spotted it in time and Heathernose could have gotten away, but-...but her apprentice froze, so she stayed behind.”
Spiderstorm takes a slow, shaky breath before stepping forward, crouching by his mother’s nest. Goldenberry looks up from her work with a frown, watching him for a moment before resuming her work. “Don’t interfere.” she simply mumbles around her mouth of herbs. Spiderstorm doesn’t reply.
❧
The day is long. Batflower joins him, but soon leaves as her emotions grew too much and she couldn’t stand to be there any longer. Nettlethorn joins him as well, sitting by his side for a moment, though the pair share no words.
Heathernose passes away later that evening.
Logically, Spiderstorm knows it shouldn’t be a surprise. The wounds were great, his mother growing weaker throughout the afternoon despite Goldenberry’s attempts to help her.
Still, despite the logic, his heart feels as though it has been crushed.
❧
He sits with his sisters during Heathernose’s vigil. Batflower sits to his right, sniffling and rubbing her tears away while Nettlethorn sits on her other side, her shoulders hunched with grief as she presses against her sister.
Sootfire is nowhere to be found.
Boarheart tries to approach him as the elders begin to carry his mother’s body out of camp, but Spiderstorm pushes past him, heading into the forest.
He takes solace in the dark, tearing at bark with his claws, crying out with anger at the unfairness of it all. Neither Boarheart or Wolfsong try to find him, and for that, he is grateful.
Spiderstorm stays among the trees, alone in his grief, for several hours, finally returning to the warrior’s den when the rest of the Clan is fast asleep. He is silent as he picks his way to his nest, settling down with as little commotion as possible. As he settles in, there is soon a pressure at his back, Boarheart shifting closer to curl alongside him.
Spiderstorm mumbles an apology, stumbling through the words as the rhythmic rasp of Boarheart's tongue across his neck lulls him to sleep.
❧
Batflower joins him on the edge of camp one evening, touching her nose to his before settling down next to him. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Mom and I had been talking about it before she-...” she trails off, still not healed from their mother’s passing.
Spiderstorm nudges her, both in comfort and to prompt her past the uncomfortable pause.
Shaking her head, she continues. “I want peace for RidgeClan.”
“I don’t think any cat would disagree with you.” Spiderstorm uncertainly agrees.
“No, no. I mean-...we should be actively pursuing it, not waiting for StarClan’s guidance.” Her eyes shift nervously as she speaks, knowing some of their Clanmates may consider such a simple statement as heresy. “And I think peace with our neighbors will help to heal us internally.”
Spiderstorm is frowning now, still skeptical. “You want to fight violence with kindness.”
“When you put it like that, it sounds silly. Mother agreed, Spiderstorm. So does Nettlethorn. If we could solve this without bloodshed, use our power to fix our relations with the other Clans, then RidgeClan could focus on healing its own divisions instead of looking outward.” Her eyes shine with conviction and eagerness towards this goal, so sure of this truth and her ability to achieve it. “I wanted to see if you would support me, Spiderstorm.”
He is silent for a moment, watching her. Her mission is not so different than his talks with Wolfsong, of bettering RidgeClan by using their strength to cure the forest. He had talked of physical strength with Wolfsong, of using force and power to guarantee RidgeClan's place. Perhaps Batflower’s way is right, though.
He smiles. “Of course I will, Batflower.”
❧
“You are incredibly oblivious, Spider. It’s amazing, really.”
Spiderstorm wants to congratulate himself on exhibiting enough strength to not smack Boarheart. “It was not obvious. If you say it again, I will never talk to you again.”
“Spider, oh my gosh, you didn’t notice Acornbelly asking about him the entire last moon?”
“I thought she was taking a polite interest in my friend’s apprentice.”
“A polite-...Spiderstorm, it was more than a polite interest.”
Acornbelly and Rushcloud, Boarheart’s previous apprentice, had grown close. Shockingly close. Alarmingly close. And when Spiderstorm had voiced surprise over such closeness to Boarheart, the other tom had laughed in his face.
It is true. Acornbelly had been asking about Rushcloud for the last moon, and Spiderstorm supposed he had noticed the two spending more and more time together. If he really thought about it, he knew the two were not that dissimilar personality-wise and that their closeness shouldn’t be too surprising.
He doesn't like that he seems to be the last one to put these things together.
❧
Despite Boarheart’s mocking, Spiderstorm still finds himself caught off-guard seeing Acornbelly and Rushclud growing close as mates. As is common with most mates, Acornbelly’s stomach soon began to swell with kits.
“Isn’t it exciting, Spiderstorm?” she asks him eagerly as she sets up her nest in the nursery, Spiderstorm offering a feather from their collected pile whenever she requires one. “Kits! Oh, wouldn’t it be fun if you mentored one?”
Spiderstorm scoffs softly, pushing a feather over to her. “If they are anything like you, then I would rather not. You were a pawful. I need a break.”
She laughs cheerily, pushing feathers into the woven leaves of her nest. “You’re making yourself sound old. I think it would be perfect.”
Spiderstorm watches her as she chats away, eyes gleaming with joy and love, love for her mate and her unborn kits and the future that is ahead of her. He realizes for the first time that he has never given any thought to finding love for himself. It simply had never been on his list of priorities. There were bigger things for him to accomplish than to concern himself with romance.
With the way Acornbelly smiles, though, it makes him wonder if perhaps it isn’t that pointless after all.
Had his sisters found love? He is ashamed that he doesn’t know.
❧
It should have been a simple birth. Everything had gone perfectly and as expected, the medicine cats not expecting anything other than a perfect delivery.
Then Acornbelly grew sick, alarmingly fast. The date of the birth is not exciting and joyful as it should have been. Instead, it is a stressful affair. Acornbelly and the medicine cat are alone in the nursery, only Rushcloud permitted inside.
The event is surprisingly quiet, Spiderstorm thinks as he crouches outside the den with Boarheart at his side, Acornbelly and Rushcloud’s family coming and going throughout the day. He would have expected birthing to be a loud and alarming affair.
The medicine cat leaves the nursery after what seems like ages, eyes tired and downcast, and Spiderstorm fears the worst as he carefully steps into the den.
Acornbelly is still, her small form that seemed to have always vibrated with every sort of emotion under the sky not moving at all for the first time that Spiderstorm could remember.
Rushcloud is shaking with sorrow at her side, curled around the tiny forms of two weakly mewling kits. The newly single father of two daughters. A tiny limp form is next to Acornbelly, another casualty of the event.
Spiderstorm is still, staring, and then turns and abruptly leaves. “Spider-!” Boarheart protests, but Spiderstorm doesn’t listen, pushing past his friend and Acornbelly’s grieving family.
Spiderstorm does not visit them again.
❧
Rushcloud works through his grief surrounded by friends and family, relying on the comforts of those who love him to help him through his sorrow.
Spiderstorm again handles his anguish on his own, retreating to the territory and avoiding his friends as much as he can.
It just wasn’t fair. Acornbelly had been so young. That difficult apprentice, full of energy, who had become more than an apprentice during their moons together.
She had become a friend. Had become what he imagined having a daughter to be like. Boarheart insisted that he needed to visit the kits, Nutkit and Oakkit as Rushcloud had named them, but Spiderstorm couldn’t stomach the idea.
He instead retreats into his work, focusing on joining extra patrols and volunteering for any extra projects that need to be done. He collapses into his nest each night weary and exhausted, and his friends look at him with worry, but he ignores them. He can feel their concern, and it only pushes him further.
If he is lucky, he can work until he doesn’t feel anything at all.
❧
Batflower and Nettlethorn have been continuing their work to spread their ideals regarding a peaceful future for RidgeClan. Spiderstorm offers his support when prompted, but he finds his mind drifting to his and Wolfsong's talks.
He sees the way his Clanmates glare at the border they share with MistClan, the way fur bristles and tails lash at mentions of the secretive Clan. How can words and kindness solve such a rift? And Acornbelly’s kits...they deserve to be raised without the threat of their neighbors.
Perhaps he had been right all along, and RidgeClan would have to guarantee their safety with bloodshed.
He finds himself falling into old habits with Wolfsong, joining the other for late night talks of the future and what needs to be done to ensure it, and finds Gorsethorn and Ratfur joining this new circle created by his childhood friend. He feels shame that he drifted from the truth, but he does not shy away now, his passion and ambition rekindled and growing daily.
While he doesn’t completely pull his support from his sisters, he slowly becomes less involved in their talks. His distance doesn’t go unnoticed, and he can feel Nettlethorn’s disapproval and Batflower’s sadness like a thorn in his pelt.
He ignores Boarheart’s judgmental stares when he returns from late night rendezvous with his other companions.
❧
It's midday when news of a border altercation reaches camp. Not entirely shocking news, as tense border meetings with MistClan aren't necessarily uncommon, but it's made clear very quickly that the stand-off escalated past its usual point.
A scuffle, an exchange of unsheathed claws, a swipe that hits an unlucky mark.
Batflower bleeds out before the patrol makes it back home.
An accident, some would call it. Completely unintended. Spiderstorm sees red in his anger, sees validation for the need of a show of force laid out before him in the form of his sister.
Had he the support he needed, he would have launched an attack on MistClan that same day. Boarheart barely talks him off the cliff of such a decision, tries to assure him that things will work out in the end. Peace will come.
Spiderstorm now knows that peace can only be secured with power.
❧
The silence is heavy at Batflower’s vigil.
Boarheart sits to one side of Spiderstorm, Wolfsong several taillengths away from his other side. Nettlethorn sits across from him, on the other side of Batflower’s body. She looks up, meeting his gaze for a moment before standing.
“This is why we need to seek peace with MistClan!” she cries out for nearby cats to hear, head raised proudly as she demands the resolution that Batflower so desperately wanted. “If we retaliate with violence, then we are no better than them. We have the power to guide the Clans to peace.”
She looks to Spiderstorm again, a final silent request for his support in this moment of her declaration. He feels Boarheart’s encouraging nudge from his left.
“No. This is why they deserve the might of RidgeClan. If we show them our power, they would never dare take the lives of one of our warriors again.”
He steps closer to Wolfsong, away from the betrayed and heartbroken stares of his sister and friend. He had been a fool to encourage Batflower’s naive dreams. Had he shown her reason from the start, she could perhaps still be alive.
MistClan needs to be shown the strength of PineClan, for the safety of his remaining Clanmates. It didn’t matter if they supported him. He would bear the violent burden that would keep them alive.
Despite his confidence in his path, he cannot meet Boarheart’s gaze.
❧
Things progress as expected from there. Boarheart accuses him of being an idiot, of being heartless and selfish. He pleads with him to reconsider, reminds him of the dangers of seeking out violence.
Boarheart’s voice breaks during his tirade, but Spiderstorm ignores it.
It is for the best, Spiderstorm decides, to build and keep this distance between himself and his friend. Boarheart would never understand that Spiderstorm is doing this for him, to keep him and RidgeClan safe.
Spiderstorm knows he will get blood on his paws, will do whatever it takes to guarantee he succeeds. At least Wolfsong is convinced they have StarClan’s blessing.
❧
Wolfsong is promoted to deputy. As a younger cat, Spiderstorm may have been envious of his friend’s new position of power, but now, he knows it is for the best. Wolfsong is personable, relating best to their Clanmates, able to take Spiderstorm’s words and frame them in whatever tone is needed for the situation.
An incredibly useful development. The stars seem to look on them favorably.
Nettlethorn becomes a rival, almost an enemy as she takes on the opposite of their goal. She takes Batflower’s original mission and elevates it further than their deceased sister ever could, her natural grace and fierce charisma gaining her loyal support among their Clanmates.
Spiderstorm makes sure not to dwell on what Heathernose would think of their opposition.
With his other friends at a distance, he is able to fully focus on securing RidgeClan's greatness. He will shoulder the burden of doing whatever distasteful things it takes to achieve peace, all for the good of his Clan. He is thankful for the presence of Wolfsong at his side, though there is regret for keeping the other at a distance for all those moons. They could have made so much progress already had he not been a fool. They have the time now, though, and there is plenty of work to be done.
❧
Incompatible, it seems. He is not blind to Wolfsong's careful efforts to avoid him and Boarheart being put on patrol together. Perhaps it is an act of kindness, to prevent Spiderstorm from being put face to face with his lost friend.
Even Wolfsong can't control everything, though.
Boarheart is the one to make approaches, carefully navigating the mountains that have been put between them. Attempts at agreement, trying to see the views that Spiderstorm has allowed himself to be consumed by.
"Make me understand how this becomes a war that ends all conflict."
Spiderstorm, carefully, tries. Over several cautious conversations, they debate the approach and the alternative. Boarheart frustratingly straddles both sides of the issue...he knows that true peace with MistClan isn't something to be won easily with kindness, but refuses to agree that bloodshed is the way to end it.
'What, then?' Spiderstorm wants to demand, to beg. 'What is the answer?'
He doesn't, though. Despite the closed distance, he cannot allow Boarheart to break down the views that he balances upon. He refuses to have Boarheart and Wolfsong and Palefang and Sedgewing join the names of those he has lost. War is the only way to guarantee their safety, even if the peace just lasts a lifetime.
A lifetime would be enough.
❧
Dovestar passes away in her sleep, her old age not permitting her to lead much longer. That morning, Wolfstar calls Spiderstorm's name our to the Clan, choosing him as his deputy.
The pieces are falling into place. Dovestar had laid the foundation, a gentle sense of superiority and spirituality in her Clan that Wolfstar and Spiderstorm can now fan the flame of. Their talks, always heavy, even when they were apprentices, now take on new urgency.
Dreams were becoming reality. No longer does he have the time he had for his and Boarheart's careful conversations. A guilty part of him is glad, an excuse to avoid the other, to finally prevent himself from getting distracted by the ache in his chest that Boarheart's presence always caused.
❧
"I'm going to ask Cougarcloud to be my mate."
Wolfstar's words startle him, Spiderstorm glancing over to his friend from where they had been discussing battle training from the leader's den.
"Cougarcloud?" Sure, she was an interesting enough cat. Was that why Wolfstar had been seeking her out recently? The blossoming romance is oddly timed, though, moons of lack of interest from Wolfstar predating his sudden interest. "...is it because that's what's expected of you?"
"To continue my line, yes. Uplifting news for the Clan to focus on before the upcoming battles."
Spiderstorm is silent for a moment, frowning. The lack of genuine love in the bond, at least from Wolfstar, seems to stain that happy news. The Clan seems ignorant enough of the deception, though. Wolfstar had always had a way with words.
"Was she your first choice?"
The pause afterwards is unexpectedly heavy, and while Wolfstar's smile doesn't falter, Spiderstorm's breath catches in his chest as he feels himself a the edge of a crucial realization. Before he can pursue it, though, dig at the strange emotions between himself and Wolfstar, his companion pushes forward.
"Yes, she was. Now come, my friend, let us look to other needs. I want to organize some patrols to scout the border..."
❧
Cougarcloud fits in easily with Spiderstorm and Wolfstar's circle. She has a sharp intelligence behind her composed and gentle persona and frequently offers useful insight and suggestions during their talks. Spiderstorm can see why Wolfstar chose her, and there are times where he almost believes their courtship to be genuine. There's a new loneliness that he hasn't expected with Wolfstar's newest venture. Late night talks in Wolfstar's den are no more, for Cougarcloud occupies that space now.
Soon, though, she moves to the nursery, becoming heavy with kits. An expected part of their relationship. Wolfstar leaves no room for there to be doubts from his Clan.
❧
He has no fond memories of the nursery. He and Nettlethorn last debated here, almost to blows over the backs of her newborn kits. And Acornbelly's still form still haunts him, the sad wailing of her kits, the sobbing of Rushcloud-
There is no sorrow in the den now, though. Cougarcloud is healthy and safe, her kits quiet and content at her belly. The love and joy in Wolfstar's eyes as he gazes down at his children is almost infectious, and Spiderstorm is able to begin to relax by his friend's side.
"I want you to be their godfather." Wolfstar's eager whisper breaks the quiet of the den, a touch of nervousness in his voice as he glances over at Spiderstorm.
Spiderstorm hesitates. He doesn't deserve the honor, not after his treatment of Acornbelly's kits. He begins to voice as much, but Wolfstar has shuffled towards his mate and carefully motions to a small black kit.
"We named her Batkit. I wanted to honor Batflower. If...that's okay."
It's an unfair move, Spiderstorm later thinks fondly. How could he stay no to being involved in the lives of Wolfstar's children with a move like that?
❧
He stays involved with the kits as they grow, visiting them frequently with gifts and stories. And most of all, his attentions are spent on little Batkit, who quickly becomes his favorite of the four.
She is so like his deceased sister, not just in name, that it is hard not to favor her. He can see Wolfstar in her as well, not just in her growing size but in her warmness and devotion.
Spiderstorm requests to mentor her, the first apprentice he has accepted since Acornbelly, and Wolfstar agrees with the stars in his eyes. They discuss the siblings, purrs in their voices, and Spiderstorm realizes it's the happiest he has been in moons.
❧
Batpaw is a challenging apprentice in much of the same ways that Acornbelly was. Sensitive and careful, she shies away from the skills where Spiderstorm excels. Instead of pushing her, though, he takes his time, remembering his lessons from his previous apprentice.
Lessons that Boarheart taught him. The thought is bittersweet.
Instead of hunting and battling, they focus on tracking and physical skills. Pouncing on inanimate objects, leaping among rocky outcrops. Defensive moves are finally touched upon, a way to participate in sparring without having to inflict any damage herself.
They would take it at her pace, he decides, and it surprised at how at peace he is with that decision. For Batpaw's safety and comfort, they would take as long as needed.
❧
The tree falls over the river, a crossing granted by the skies.
"It's time." Wolfstar breathes, eyes wild with eagerness as they survey the new crossing from a rocky outcrop.
For the first time in his life, Spiderstorm finds himself hesitating in regards to their goal. He has not been able to teach Batpaw offensive battle maneuvers yet and she and her siblings are expected to attend the first strike. Both as the oldest apprentices and as Wolfstar's children, to accompany him in glory.
But she is not ready. She would be at a disadvantage, and Spiderstorm isn't sure if he can handle losing her. "We can wait another moon." he tries, "Allow your kits to become warriors. Our attack will be a celebration of their success."
Wolfstar only has eyes for the future now, though, and Spiderstorm's attempts at advice fall on stubbornly deaf ears. He cannot compete with StarClan's blessing.
The attack moves forward at breakneck speed, all the plans that Spiderstorm had helped devise over the last many moons suddenly coming to closure.
Batpaw is not ready.
❧
"You'll stay close to me." he murmurs into her ear as they approach the crossing, his tail draping against her back. "Stay alert. Remember your defensive moves. Don't worry."
He smiles at her and she smiles back, and for a moment, Spiderstorm is confident that his worries are for nothing.
He loses track of her almost instantly as the battle begins, her dark form blending into the writhing, screeching throng of cats that surrounds them.
The battle is hard, RidgeClan gaining the upper paw for a moment before a rush of PrairieClan reinforcements slams into them. Spiderstorm had discussed this possibility with Wolfstar, several moons ago, but they had agreed that the timing would be later in the battle. They had underestimated the speed of the prairie cats and the positions of their tunnels.
RidgeClan remains strong, as powerful and sturdy as their mountainous home. Spiderstorm finds himself unable to look eagerly to victory, though, his eyes desperately searching for Batpaw, Boarheart, Wolfstar-
He sees him, sees the warriors cornering him and the attack being planned and Spiderstorm leaps, desperate to help his friend.
Claws meet him instead, a powerful swipe meeting him and connecting with his face, his forward momentum suddenly working against him as he slams into the ground. A sickening sound as he hits stone, his vision blurred almost immediately as the world swims around him.
The call for a retreat takes too long to register, blood warm on the back of his head, eyes unable to focus and the whole world pulsing in rhythm with his throbbing head.
The journey back to camp is a blur. Batpaw becomes an identifiable shape in the darkness, Spiderstorm providing a shoulder for her to lean on (or did he have to lean on her? He cannot remember) as they make their way across the bridge.
He collapses in the medicine cat's den as soon as they make it home, succumbing to the encroaching darkness that had been playing at the edge of his vision.
❧
He drifts in an out of consciousness over the next few days. Upon his first awakening, he hears the news of Wolfstar's death. Spiderstorm's thoughts are sluggish, unable to process the news.
Death? How could he have died? He had...lives left, Spiderstorm cannot remember how many, but he shouldn't be dead. He hears the whispers of Wolfstar having less lives than he had let on, but Spiderstorm knows, even with his swimming thoughts, that this isn't true.
What else could be the alternative, though? He grieves alone in the medicine cat den. The injuries around him are sign enough that much of the Clan is ready to move on.
❧
"Spiderstorm...with Wolfstar gone and with you as deputy..."
He squints up at Sootwhisker, head tilting slightly to regard him with the eye that retained its sight as he frowned at the medicine cat. The other tom waits patiently, but there is a look of urgency in his eyes as he waits for the meaning of his words to sink in.
Ah. Leader. He wants him to become Spiderstar.
"No." It's the first confident word he's been able to speak since the battle yesterday, "No, it won't be me. I don't want-... any of it."
Sootwhisker does not push it. News spreads quickly that the Clan is without leader and deputy, but Spiderstorm leaves the problem to his Clanmates. Assumptions are made that the refusal is based on his injury (trauma to his head, Sootwhisker explains later), and perhaps that is part of it.
Despite the injury, though, he cannot forget his realization during the battle of the danger he had put his loved ones in, the battle for vengeance he had pursued under the guise of justice and peace.
How could he lead when he could not follow Wolfstar's dream to the end? His dear friend had died for their cause. A cause that Spiderstorm was now not sure was right.
No, he could not lead. Not when his worldview had shifted so horribly, leaving him without direction.
❧
He remains in the medicine cat's den for almost two moons. As his awareness returns, the throbbing in his head finally fading, he is able to assess the damage he and Wolfstar had brought.
He is not the only cat in the medicine cat den, some others with varying degrees of injuries in nests around him. Around the camp, as well, hollow expressions tell him that not all cats made it home.
He assumes Nettlethorn's children all made it through the battle. He is sure he wouldn't still be alive if they didn't.
One day he spots Sedgewing, ears shredded and missing the majority of their tail. Infection took it, he learns later. Palewing, ever by their side, fixes Spiderstorm with an angry glare whenever they notice his attention.
He sometimes wakes to prey brought to him. The scent of Boarheart, unmistakable on the prey and beside him in his nest, a constant even now.
Even with the reminders of Boarheart, the guilt is almost deep enough to drown himself in. How can he possibly expect forgiveness?
❧
His health continues to improve, Spiderstorm rejoining the warrior's den. He is pleased that Batpaw-...no, Batsong, is there. But sometimes, catching her out of the corner of his eye, he sees the familiar form of Wolfstar.
Batsong houses two ghosts now, a living reminder of Batflower and Wolfstar. A burden she doesn't deserve.
Life does not easily return to normal. He struggles with his warrior duties, not only with the adjustment to his half-sight but with skills that had come so easily before. His jumps after prey are delayed despite how sure he is that he has timed it right and his blocks and attacks while sparring are sluggish and clumsy.
He feels aged, broken. A shattered remnant of the cat he once was. His world still spins around him at times and his words, once so clever and quick, escape him easily even as the wound on the back of his head heals into a scar.
How can he move on, though? Even without his injuries, how could he approach his friends now, after the danger and pain he put them through?
Sedgewing and Palefang and Boarheart. He is lucky they aren't dead. How could he ever deserve their company again? He regrets so deeply, regrets at his selfish and blind pursuit of war, regrets at the walls that he built. Walls so high that he doesn't know how to tear them down.
No longer does he have Wolfstar to fall back onto, though. The Clan has moved on, but he finds himself stuck, a remnant of a past that RidgeClan is desperate to shift away from.
A second chance, Batsong tells him. He isn't sure what to do with such an undeserving opportunity.
personality
Positives
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relations
Pre-Plotting: Spiderstorm is the previous deputy of RidgeClan. After the battle and Wolfstar's death, he refused leadership and stepped down from his high rank to become a warrior once again. While previously he would have aligned with Mars's mindset, his views have been shaken after faced with what his pursuit of war brought. He finds himself struggling with leftover anger and a desire for justice, but no longer feels comfortable with his previous methods.
Family
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| Rivals
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