Midday light poured weakly into the ravine, its usual golden warmth dulled by drifting ash. The Roaring Storm Dynasty’s once lush camp, once humming with birdsong and chatter, now lay half crumbled. Charred brambles sagged like wounded limbs. Blackened earth crackled under every step. Cats scattered through the camp worked numbly, dragging debris, reinforcing den walls, or whispering quiet prayers to Mystica for clearer skies.
Storm-Yrn picked his way across the ravine floor, carefully skirting a fallen branch still smoldering at the edges. His white pelt stood stark against the ruins, grey and black splotches muted by soot. No one paid him any mind, no one ever really did. But that made it easier to slip unnoticed to the Seer Garden, tucked against the far wall of the ravine. To his surprise, he found life there.
Sheltered beneath an unburned crevasse, its stone walls untouched by falling embers, several clusters of herbs glowed defiantly green. Some mullien clinging between two stones. They smelled sweet, almost shockingly so in all the ash.
Storm-Yrn’s heart thudded with a sudden, fragile hope. Carefully, gently, he gathered the surviving herbs in his jaws and hurried toward the medical den. Maybe… maybe this could help someone. Maybe Forging Silver would be pleased. Maybe...
He ducked into the den, blinking away the sudden dimness and froze.
A soldier lay in the center of the den, chest torn open by a badger’s claws. Blood seeped thickly into the moss beneath him. His breaths came in wet, rattling gasps. Forging Silver was pressed close against his side, licking his head in slow, soft strokes, murmuring words Storm-Yrn could not hear. The Seer’s silver eyes were full of raw sorrow, ears pinned flat.
The soldier choked out a broken sound of fear, pleading, a desperate cry for comfort. Forging Silver curled tighter around him like a mother soothing a frightened kit.
Storm-Yrn couldn’t move. The herbs slipped slightly in his jaws. His tail drooped, ears folding back in silent horror as the soldier’s breaths grew shallower… then stopped entirely.
For a heartbeat, the medical den was painfully still. A rush of pawsteps broke the stillness as Wild Wanderer appeared beside him, eyes wide, pelt bristling “Storm-Yrn,” the young medic breathed, voice tight. “You shouldn’t be in here. Come, come outside. You don't need to see this.”
Storm-Yrn swallowed, voice shaking but steady enough “I… I found some herbs,” he said, lowering the bundle at Wild Wanderer’s paws. “They survived the fire. I just wanted to bring them.”
Wild Wanderer stared at him, then softened his worried gaze, gratitude breaking through the panic “Storm-Yrn… thank you. Really.” He leaned down and touched his nose gently to the fledgling’s forehead, a warm, grounding gesture. “These will help more than you know.”
He scooped up the herbs and hurried to organize them, leaving Storm-Yrn standing at the den entrance.
Slowly Storm-Yrn quietly backed out of the medic den and into the ruined camp. He padded to the center of the ravine and sat down among the charred rubble, folding his tail around his paws. Cats bustled past him, talking about all of the rebuilding that needs to be done but none stopped to ask what was wrong.
Storm-Yrn stared at the grey sky, dulled from the clouds. He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel, but he knew he wouldn’t forget the look in that soldier’s eyes..not ever.
As he sat in the center of camp, staring at nothing. The world felt muffled, like ash had clogged his ears as well as the sky did weeks prior. Cats moved around him in blurred shapes, busy with rebuilding, but he barely registered any of it.
Pawsteps slowed beside him and soon appeared the form of Egret Hiss, his father. Storm-Yrn lifted his head, blue eyes trembling. His father’s tall, dark figure paused just long enough to acknowledge him.
“Father…” Storm-Yrn’s voice cracked. “There was a soldier. In the medical den. He...he died. I saw him die. Right in front of me.”
Egret Hiss’s expression changed, something almost tender, almost pitying, but it passed like a cloud over the sun. He reached out one paw and gave Storm-Yrn’s shoulder a brief, stiff pat. “You’ll live,” he said simply before he turned and padded toward the maternity den without another word.
Storm-Yrn stared after him for a long moment, chest hollowing. He shouldn’t have expected more, he didn’t know why he ever did, all his father cared about was his older sister and his soon to arrive little sibling. His ears drooped as he curled in tighter on himself.
A sudden thump jolted him, someone bumping his side “Storm-Yrn!” chirped a familiar voice. The voice drew Storm-Yrns attention upwards to see Bug-Yrn standing there, wide amber eyes softening as soon as he saw Storm-Yrn’s face.
Abandoning his cheerful demeanor, Bug-Yrn loafed beside his friend “Hey… what’s wrong?” Bug-Yrn asked gently, already leaning closer. Storm-Yrn swallowed hard. “I...I saw a soldier die. In the medical den. Forging Silver was with him but… it didn’t matter.”
Bug-Yrn’s ears wilted “Oh.” he mewed and without hesitation, he sat up properly and pressed against Storm-Yrn’s side, offering warm, solid comfort. “Mystica'ta… Storm-Yrn. I’m so sorry.”
Storm-Yrn didn’t realize how tense he was until that touch loosened him a little, and he rested his head down onto his friends shoulder. Bug-Yrn gave his cheek a friendly headbutt. “Come on. Let’s take your mind off things. Want to go hunting?” he offered, tail coming up to rub Storm-Yrns back.
Storm-Yrn nodded gratefully. “Please. I need to get out of here for a bit." he softly spoke, rising up onto his paws. His friend followed, but kept his tail on Storm-Yrns back to let him know he was still there for him.
The two fledglings padded together across the ruined camp toward where General Adder Skulls stood outside a small den, fur bristling. His mismatched eyes blazed with frustration as he argued with someone hidden within.
“I don’t have time for your excuses,” Adder Skulls snapped into the den. “We’ve lost half our patrol routes, several soldiers and even kittens are dying because of your incompetance.” He hissed.
Before he could continue, Bug-Yrn cleared his throat and approaches carefully, his body lowering to look smaller “General Adder Skulls, sir?” he mewed to get the generals attention. The general turned sharply, but at the sight of the fledglings, some of the fire left his gaze. “What is it, Yrns? I am busy right now.” He spoke, his tail lashing with irritation, but not at them.
Storm-Yrn came up beside Bug-Yrn, lowering his head respectfully to his superior “Can we go hunting, please?” Storm-Yrn spoke, voice still quiet but steadier. Adder Skulls exhaled a tired, ragged sound. “If you can find anything out in that devastation, I will be grateful.” He flicked his tail dismissively “Go on, and be careful.” He dismissed them then he turned back to the unseen cat inside the den.
“I said we don’t have time to argue about this!”
Both fledglings flinch in surprise at the General shouting, and not wanting to bother any more, the two quickly leave the spot. As they pad across the walkway to the tunnel entrance, Bug-Yrn snorts "General Adder Skulls is pissed off." he commentse, tucking his body to the ground as he climbed through the tunnel. Emerging from behind him, Storm-Yrn shook off the dirt that clung to him "I don't blame him." Is all he replied with, glancing back down into the camp before he set out with Bug-Yrn.
The air outside camp was sour, reflecting the visual appearance of the ruined forest. Storm-Yrn kept close to Bug-Yrn as they picked their way across the charred earth. The world felt hollowed out and every tree looked like a black skeleton. Prey would without a doubt be scarce, but still they searched.
Storm-Yrn’s nose twitched, he tried to taste the air, but he got nothing but sour. It wasn't until a small vibration under his paws alerted him to something. He dropped low, digging claws into the ashy ground. Beneath the soil, something shifted, and with a swipe of his paw he unearthed a mole.
Storm pounced, quick and precise, biting the small mole and biting down until it ceased its wriggling “Got it!” he exclaimed and raised his head, the now dead mole in his jaws. Bug-Yrn’s tail shot up and he padded over to look “Nice catch, Storm-Yrn! Is there anymore?” He looked around the ground.
The two sifted the ground for a bit, hoping to pick up more vibrations, but instead, Bug-Yrn’s gaze snapped upward “Hey, look!” He pointed, making Storm-Yrn look upwards as well. A squirrel was on a half burned tree, rustling in a small hollow of the bark.
Storm-Yrn’s stomach twisted. “…Bug-Yrn, leave it. That tree looks ready to fall apart.” he advised before moving on. Bug-Yrn hesitated, but only for a heartbeat. “We’re desperate for food. I’ll be careful! Promise.” he says and runs to the tree.
Stopping mid step, Storm-Yrn turned and dropped the mole “Bug-Yrn, wait!” he shouted and ran over, but Bug-Yrn was already climbing. Storm-Yrn’s heart hammered as his friend made his way up the brittle bark, each foothold flaking away beneath him. Bug-Yrn reached the branch with the squirrel, muscles tense, gathering to leap.
The squirrel darted and with a wiggle Bug-Yrn thrusted himself forward with his paws out and lunged after it, but the moment he landed on the brittle branch, it snapped like a bone.
Seeing his friend plummit and hit the ground with a nasty snap, Storm-Yrn ran to him “BUG-YRN!” he yowled. The other fledglings scream tore through the dead forest “MY PAWS!! STORM-YRN, MY PAWS!!!” Bug-Yrn wailed. Storm-Yrn skidded to his side, breath frozen in his chest at the nasty sight; Bug-Yrn’s front paws were twisted at angles no limb should ever make.
Bug-Yrn sobbed and tried to stand, oly to collapse with a strangled cry “I can’t...I can’t...I can’t stand! Storm-Yrn help!” he cried. Swallowing his fear, Storm-Yrn looked at the mole he dropped, deciding it was lesser at the moment. He crouched low, taking Bug-Yrn by his scruff, and carefully dragging him back.
By the time they reached camp, Storm-Yrn was sobbing himself, and he set his friend down “HELP! SOMEONE HELP!” his cries broke the chatter of working cats. Wild Wanderer burst from the medical den to look for the source and saw the two “Mystica'ta!! Bug-Yrn!" Wild Wanderer gasped and ran over to scoop Bug-Yrn as gently as he could by the scruff and rushed him inside.
Storm-Yrn trembled, chest heaving, he searched the camp with frantic eyes until he spotted his father emerging from the shadows “Father!” Storm-Yrn hurried to him “Bug-Yrn fell... he might... he might die... I don’t...” he spoke breathless between sobs. Egret Hiss didn’t even stop walking, tail swaying with irritability “You are a fledgling, not a kitten,” he said coldly. “Quit crying.” he growled.
Then he disappeared into a den, leaving Storm-Yrn standing alone, shaking so hard his legs nearly gave out. Storm-Yrn sank onto his belly, burying his face in his paws as silent tears slipped free. The world felt too big, too cruel...oh how he wishes he was still a kitten snuggled to his mothers belly. What if Bug-Yrn died? What if he lost the only cat who ever really saw him?
A shadow fell over him and Storm-Yrn lifted his head to see Forging Silver. The seer’s silver eyes softened. Without a word, he leaned down and gave Storm-Yrn a gentle lick between the ears, warm, comforting, and nothing like Egret Hiss’s cold dismissal.
“Bug-Yrn will live,” Forging Silver murmured “Both paws are broken, but with time, he’ll heal. He is young and strong. He has every chance.” he softly spoke, paw resting on the fledglings shoulder. Storm-Yrn stared up at him, hope flickering like a weak flame in his chest “He… he’ll really be okay?” he hiccuped and sniffled, rubbing his runny nose with the back of his paw.
Forging Silver nodded “He will,” the seer promised “If it helps, you may stay with him in the medical den. Sometimes, knowing a friend is close works better than any poultice.” he offered. Storm-Yrn blinked through his tears and nodded as he shakingly rose to stand “Yes. Please.” he hiccuped again.
Forging Silver smiled and nudged him gently “Come, then.” he mewed and turned around to head to the medical den. Storm-Yrn followed, but paused at the entrance to the den. Across camp, Emperor Admirable Glow stepped from his own den, calm, pristine, untouched by ash or grief. His gaze swept the camp, cold as frozen water.
Storm-Yrn’s breath hardened as he glared, fur bristling and blue eyes narrowing with resentment he had never felt so sharply before. Then he turned away and slipped into the warmth of the medical den, where Bug-Yrn waited.