Archive of Our Own

The house reminded Lobster of the inside of a tree. At least he assumed the inside of a tree would resemble the house. After all, the walls were made of trees, lying on their sides. A fire crackled inside the wall, controlled and warm. The heads of great beasts hung above with angry jaws and dead eyes. Human things littered the place, but Lobster didn’t care. He had his space behind the fence. He was having so much fun!

The two human kits dangled a stick in front of him with a soft ball attached to the end. Lobster launched up, batting at the ball before landing in a heap on the fuzzy floor. Other toys littered the ground, but all of Lobster’s focus was on the newcomers. The smaller of the human kits made a loud, happy sound, and scratched Lobster’s head with its oddly shaped paw. Lobster purred, pressing against the paw.

“Why won’t they play with me?” Lobster’s sister, Crabcake, whined. The dark ginger kit sat beside her mother Reke, frowning at the humans.

“Because you aren’t trying hard enough!” Lobster’s other sister, Shrimp, giggled. She charged out from her spot behind Reke and tackled Lobster. The human kits squealed and stepped back. Shrimp bit at Lobster’s ear. Lobster laughed and batted Shrimp’s head. The smaller human kit whined, looking towards the other side of the den where Lobster’s gray furred housefolk sat watching. Lobster couldn’t understand what the humans said, but he understood tone. The smaller human was nervous, but his owner was calm and reassuring. Lobster continued playing, shoving his sister onto her back.

Lobster’s housefolk stood and approached the two human kits. He said something else calming, his paws on each kit’s shoulder. Reke lifted her head, watching the humans with a harsh glare. Lobster’s housefolk made an odd sound that drew all heads towards him. Crabcake joined her littermates, watching the older human. He had something in his paws. Shrimp gasped.

“We’re getting our collars!” Shrimp squealed. “We’re gonna get pretty collars like Momma!” Reke stood, her own black collar jingling as she moved. Lobster’s housefolk stepped over the fence that separated the world of humans from the world of cats. He picked up Lobster first. Lobster dangled limply, staring at his human’s eyes. He slipped a large blue collar around his neck with one paw before setting him back down. The collar was so big, Lobster could stick his paws through. 

“Why is it so goofy?” Shrimp laughed as the older human grabbed Crabcake and slipped on an equally big red collar.

“He gives out large collars so you can grow into them,” Reke muttered, approaching her kits. “You’ll have them for the rest of your lives that way.”

“How do you know?” Lobster asked, watching Shrimp get her own purple collar.

“I’ve had many litters under the care of this human,” Reke muttered, drawing Lobster in close. Her voice was cold, though her touch was warm and loving. “They always end the same.” 

“What do you mean, Momma?” Lobster asked. “If you had other litters, they would be with us, wouldn’t they?” The bigger human kit smiled and crouched beside the gate. Lobster’s owner said something that made Reke’s fur bristle. She understood more words than her young kits did of the human tongue, and she knew one word that made her squirm and unseathe her claws. ‘Adopt’. The bigger kit reached its paws into the cat’s area and grabbed Crabcake.

“No, not yet!” Reke screeched. She leaped over Lobster and dug her claws into the human kit’s limbs, teeth burrowing into the hairless flesh. The kit yowled and dropped Crabcake. The two human kits scurried towards the open exit of the house, the older holding its bleeding limb close. The older human roared at Reke, sending Lobster, Shrimp, and Crabcake bolting for the other side of the enclosure. Lobster’s human raced out of the den after the human kits.

“Momma, why did you do that?” Lobster gasped, tail tucked under him. Reke looked at her terrified kits, blood staining her teeth and fear in her eyes.

“There’s not enough time to explain,” Reke stammered, approaching her kits. “I’m protecting you, little ones. I’ve had kits before. Each time, that human takes them away from me, giving them to young humans like those.”

“Take us away?” Crabcake whined. “But I wanna stay with you!”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Reke purred, licking Crabcake’s head. “I won’t stand by and let you be taken from me. You’ve been eating solid food for a while now. He always takes my kits away at that point.” Reke swallowed the fear that crawled up her throat and smiled, looking at all three kits. “We’re gonna play a game, okay? You have to listen to everything I say.”

“I’m good at games, Momma,” Shrimp chirped. “I can do it.”

“Stay very still,” Reke whispered. She grabbed Lobster by the scruff and turned towards the fence. She crouched and leapt over the shiny fence, landing on the slippery floor beyond. She sat Lobster down and jumped back over the fence.

“You can do that?” Lobster gasped. Reke grabbed Shrimp and carried her over the fence.

“The perks of being old,” Reke purred, nuzzling Lobster. She made one last trip over the fence to grab Crabcake and reunite her with her littermates. 

Outside the house, Lobster’s human was talking to two other grown humans while the kits sat beside a large gray monster, crying. Lobster had only seen the outside once before, and it was wonderful! Snow sprinkled pine trees surrounded the den, stretching towards the big blue sky.

“Alright, everyone,” Reke whispered, glancing out the den. “Can you tell me who the slowest of you is?”

“Lobster, definitely,” Shrimp giggled, shoving her brother.

“Am not!” Lobster whined.

“Okay, little ones,” Reke whispered. “In this game, if the humans catch you, you lose. We need to run very, very fast until we can’t hear or smell this place. Can you run fast for me?” Crabcake nodded with wide eyes.

“Let’s go!” Shrimp squealed, trotting to the exit.

“Wait,” Reke snapped, hackles raised. Shrimp stepped back, flattening her ears for a moment. Reke raised her tail. “When my tail drops, run and don’t stop, no matter what.” Reke grabbed Lobster and lifted him high. She raised her ears, watching, waiting. Crabcake kneaded the ground. The humans looked towards the monster, still chattering. 

Reke dropped her tail. 

She zoomed out of the den, kicking up soft snow behind her. Shrimp and Crabcake bolted behind her, their tiny legs straining to keep up. The queen was only running at half her possible speed, but she didn’t want to leave the kits. The younger humans squealed and jumped as the cats raced past. Lobster’s human spun around. He roared and hurried after them, heavy feet pounding the snow. Lobster didn’t like this game. The human’s paws reached towards them as he stumbled.

“Crabcake, hurry up!” Shrimp squealed, racing just behind her mother. Crabcake slipped across the snow, legs burning. 

Reke didn’t know where she was going. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been out of the den. She didn’t know what laid beyond the trees. If she kept running, she would get her kits somewhere safe. Lobster huddled against her, trying not to squirm in her jaws.

The shouting faded out quickly. The trees surrounded them, muffling the sounds of birds and squirrels. Reke skidded to a stop. Shrimp ran into her back and tumbled into the snow, laughing. Reke dropped Lobster and looked back. She couldn’t see the den anymore. Had she really gotten out?
“That was fun!” Shrimp giggled. “Let’s go back, though, it’s cold out.”

“Shrimp,” Lobster whined, looking at his mother’s exhausted face, “I don’t think this was a game.” Reke laid down, face close to her kits. She panted, chest heaving with deep breaths. She took in the scent of her kits. Wait. Something was wrong.

“Shrimp, where’s your sister?” Reke asked. Shrimp looked around, but her mother was right. Crabcake wasn’t with them.

“She was right behind me!” Shrimp stammered.

“Crabcake?” Reke called, spinning around. “Crabcake! Crabcake, come to Momma! Crabcake!” Shrimp looked at Lobster, the situation beginning to process in her eyes. Lobster stood helpless as the panic in his family’s faces grew. What were they supposed to do now? Where would they go?

“I think Crabcake lost the game,” Shrimp whispered.

The snow tumbled off the maple branches in thick chunks. Lobster shivered. He sat outside the abandoned fox den his mother had discovered a quarter moon ago, peering through the tall grass for his sister. His collar was still big, but it fit him better, at least. The trees sprinkled the land around him. The sun was warm that morning, signaling an end to the winter. 

The tall grass ruffled to Lobster’s left. He stiffened, watching. Shrimp slipped into view, a mouse in her jaws.

“I’m getting the hang of hunting,” Shrimp chirped, dropping the prey.

“Shh,” Lobster whispered. “If Mom knows you left without her, she’ll get mad.”

“Sorry,” Shrimp sighed, rolling her eyes.

“I’m sorry I can’t help with the hunting,” Lobster huffed, sniffing the mouse.

“It’s hard to learn!” Shrimp assured him. “It’s okay. We do have a problem, though. You and I could share this and get a good meal, but there wouldn’t be anything for Mom. She would need the whole mouse.” The littermates looked into the dark of the abandoned fox den. Reke laid near the back, tail over her nose as she stared at nothing. Her fur was matted and dirty. It lost its soft shine long ago.

“Do you ever feel like she should be the one hunting?” Lobster asked. “She’s bigger and stronger than we are. She could catch so much more than you could.”

“I can support us until she’s feeling better,” Shrimp insisted.

“She hasn’t left the den all day,” Lobster huffed. “I don’t want to live like this, Shrimp. We should have stayed with our housefolk.”

“No, we shouldn’t have,” Reke grumbled. She stared at them both, her eyes glowing in the dark. Lobster shrunk in her glare. “We would have lost each other.”

“Good morning, Mom,” Shrimp declared, entering the den with the mouse. She dropped it at her mother’s side.

“You left the den?” Reke snapped, ears perking. “That’s dangerous, Shrimp. I need to be with you.”

“I wanted to get us some food,” Shrimp said.

“You two can have it,” Reke assured her, pushing the mouse away. “Growing kits need full bellies.”

“Thanks!” Shrimp said. She dug her claws into the mouse and started eating.

“I’m sure if we each take small bites, we could share,” Lobster whined.

“I don’t want it,” Reke grumbled.

“You heard her!” Shrimp huffed. “Eat!” Lobster groaned, but laid near his sister and bit into the mouse. Reke stood and moved to the mouth of the den. There was a small tunnel where Reke once was, leading deeper into the dark. Lobster moved so he didn’t have to look at the hole.

Reke stared at the tall grass shaking in the quiet wind. There was no one else around beside her family. Her bright golden eyes were thin slits.

“You realize I never wanted kits, right?” Reke whispered to the sky. Her old human was far away, and even if he wasn’t, he would never understand, but it had to be said. “You just made me have kits. You made me fall in love with them, only for them to get taken away. What monster does that? Why wouldn’t you let me be happy?” Her collar rang softly. She looked down and sneered. “Why did I stay your prisoner for so long?” She dug her paw underneath her collar. It was snug to her throat, still sturdy after all those moons. She tugged on it, but it would not give in. She buried two paws underneath, balancing on her back legs. It was then Lobster finally noticed her odd behavior.

“What are you doing, Mom?” he asked, disregarding his meal. Reke groaned, her neck aching under the strain. She bit into the collar and tumbled onto her face. With one loud rip, the collar tore away. It flew into the tall grass with a gentle ring.

“I hate you!” Reke screeched at the collar. “I hate you!”

“You took off your collar?” Shrimp gasped, running to her mom’s side. She groomed Reke’s neck, nuzzling into the now exposed fur. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

“We’re wild cats now,” Reke huffed, licking Shrimp’s head. “We don’t need collars.”

“Take mine off!” Shrimp begged. “It’s terrible for hunting.” She stretched her neck out.

“Just hold still,” Reke sighed. She bit Shrimp’s collar and pulled hard. It snapped in half and slipped off Shrimp’s neck. Shrimp laughed and hopped around, a true wild cat. Reke turned to Lobster.

“This feels great!” Shrimp declared. “I can’t believe I was excited for those things.”

“Let’s get that off of you,” Reke purred, moving towards Lobster.

“No thank you,” he stammered. He backed up slightly. Shrimp stopped playing.

“Why not?” Shrimp asked. Lobster rubbed his collar against his shoulder, feeling the rough material scratch against his skin.

“Because I got it with Crabcake,” Lobster sighed. Reke’s eyes glimmered, tail drooping. Then, her eyes narrowed.

“We don’t need any reminders of that place,” Reke huffed. “Come here.”

“I want to keep it!” Lobster snapped. “I don’t want to forget Crabcake.”

“Come here right now!” Reke hissed, tail thrashing.

“No!” Lobster cried. Reke pounced at him, hissing. Lobster spun and booked it towards the small tunnel.

“Lobster, we don’t know what’s down there!” Shrimp yowled.

“Get back here!” Reke hissed, racing after him.

The tunnels devoured the sun. The old scent of fox stung Lobster’s nose. He couldn’t lose his collar, he couldn’t! He could have been with Crabcake if his mother hadn’t decided to run away. He couldn’t forget the fun they had, the late night stories they shared. He couldn’t forget her voice.

He stumbled out of the cramped tunnel into a more open space. It was another den, with another tunnel leading further through the dark. He ran towards the other tunnel.

“Stay!” Reke yowled behind him, bursting out of the tunnel. She pinned him by the tail. Lobster yowled, falling on his muzzle. Shrimp scrambled out of the tunnel as Reke grabbed Lobster by the collar.

“Stop it!” Lobster cried. With claws out, Lobster scratched his mother’s face, hard. He felt a few drops of warm blood sink under his claws. Reke yowled, throwing Lobster in the process. He flew across the den and hit the opposite wall.

“Mom, you’re hurting him!” Shrimp begged. The dirt behind Lobster shifted. The den groaned, soil and rocks rubbing together. The house cat family stared at the ceiling as it began to rumble. A downpour of soil filled in the tunnel back to the main den.

“Run!” Reke screeched. Lobster scrambled to his paws as parts of the fox tunnel began to collapse. He booked it down the other tunnel as Shrimp screamed. Dirt splattered onto his pelt. He used his claws to gain traction, following his nose. He could smell fresh air, filled with the smell of prey unlike the dark tunnels. 

“Lobster!” Reke yowled. Lobster glanced over his shoulder. The dirt had buried Reke’s back legs, pinning her down. She barely had enough time to wail before the rest of the tunnel came down around her. Shrimp was nowhere to be found. Lobster was silent, panting hard as he continued running. Light glimmered at the end of the tunnel. Lobster jumped!

He exploded to the surface in a flurry of dirt, skidding across the grass. He spun back. The tunnel filled up behind him. The grass collapsed under where the fox tunnels had once been.

“Mom, hold on!” Lobster wailed. He dug at the tunnel, paws tearing at the tiny rocks in the dirt. “I’m coming, I’ll get you out! Shrimp! Mom!” His claws pulled up small chunks of mud, but it seemed like there as always more dirt. How long had he run, where were they buried? Choked sobs accompanied the sounds of crumbling dirt. “Mom, I’m sorry! You can take my collar! Mom!” Lobster collapsed against the tunnel, barely breathing through his sobs. Was he shaking from the cold? Oh, who cared about the cold. He buried his muzzle against the ground and cried.

It turned out surviving on his own was a lot tougher when he couldn’t hunt. His stomach was so empty, it seemed to burn. Lobster coughed, straining to breathe. It had grown harder over the few days since the tunnel collapse. Did he have dirt in his throat? Did he die in the tunnel and only imagine his escape? He continued on, paws catching over the rocks littering the coastline.

His mother had told him about the ocean once. A great collection of water that stretched beyond existence. He didn’t realize he had been so close to it all this time. It was as pretty as Reke described it. He didn’t like the coast, though. The rocks wouldn’t let his paws heal from his fervent digging. Lobster coughed again, stomach spasming.

It wasn’t like he didn’t try to hunt. He did! He pounced at mice and squirrels just like he did with his toys, but they always got away. How did Shrimp do it? Even if he suddenly learned how to hunt, he was too tired. He didn’t sleep well without his mother and sister close by. 

The rough rocks sloped down to a small sandy beach just by the ocean. Lobster followed the sound. It was nice, like his mother’s tongue grooming his pelt as she purred. He stumbled into the sand. The ocean licked at his paws.

“You feel like Mom,” Lobster mumbled. He laid down in the sand, though it was more of a collapse. The water smeared his pelt against his skin. It was so very, very nice. He laid his head against the sand and closed his eyes.

Not too far away, two fuzzy gray sisters strolled through the rocks, eyes alert and taking in the sights of the territory for the first time. The curly-furred one, Cuckoopaw, stopped at each big rock to try and flip it over, sending worms squirming underground. The other, Magpiepaw, stayed close to her mentor Kitefall, eyeing the ocean with suspicion.

“Don’t tell me I’m training a dry paw,” Kitefall scoffed, gently nudging Magpiepaw towards the ocean. Magpiepaw backed up.

“It’s just bigger than I expected,” Magpiepaw stammered.

“Well, I think it’s pretty,” Cuckoopaw huffed, breathing in the salty air. “Don’t you think so, Owlstep?” Cuckoopaw’s brown speckled mentor, Owlstep, hopped over the rocks to his apprentice’s side.

“It’s a permanent source of prey,” Owlstep noted. The wind ruffled his long fur.

“And it’s pretty,” Cuckoopaw insisted. “I think it’s time we finally touch it!” Cuckoopaw raced ahead, bolting towards the water.

“We can’t swim yet!” Magpiepaw warned.

“I’m not gonna swim, I’m just dipping my paws!” Cuckoopaw whined. Her paws sunk into the sand. A wave splashed against her front legs. She laughed and splashed the water back.

“Definitely a SealClan cat,” Kitefall chuckled.

“I’m SealClan too!” Magpiepaw huffed. She marched towards her sister, fur ruffled.

“The ocean is overrated in my opinion,” Owlstep grumbled.

“That’s the ElkClan in your blood,” Kitefall scoffed as Magpiepaw hesitantly put a paw on the sand.

“My grandfather was half-ElkClan, I barely have their traits,” Owlstep said, rolling his eyes as Cuckoopaw threw water at her sister. Magpiepaw screeched and scampered away, Cuckoopaw on her heels.

“Your size says otherwise,” Kitefall purred.

“It’s fun, Magpiepaw!” Cuckoopaw laughed. “Enjoy the water!”

“Cuckoopaw, stop it!” Magpiepaw whined, but there was laughter in her voice.

“We should remind them they aren’t kits anymore,” Owlstep noted.

“Let them have fun,” Kitefall huffed, playfully nudging Owlstep. Cuckoopaw jumped through the water and flew towards her sister. Magpiepaw squealed and rolled away. Cuckoopaw skidded across the wet sand, landing in a clumsy heap at the top of an incline. Cuckoopaw giggled, getting to her feet and shaking the sand out of her fur. She turned to gaze over the ocean from her newly discovered view. The sand and rocks slipped down the incline to a small cove with steep cliffs on the other side. There was something lying in the sand. It was an orange and white ball of fur.

“Owlstep?” Cuckoopaw called. “I think there’s something down here.” Owlstep bounded to his apprentice’s side with a few graceful leaps. Kitefall and Magpiepaw joined them a few seconds later.

“It’s a cat,” Magpiepaw gasped.

“The tide’s coming in,” Owlstep huffed, tasting the air. “That cat’s going to drown if they don’t move.”

“Are they dead?” Cuckoopaw asked.

“They will be if we don’t do something.” Owlstep grunted. He ran down the slope, the slippery sand propelling him into the cove. 

“Go around,” Kitefall warned the apprentices. “We’ll meet him at the bottom.” Kitefall and Magpiepaw hurried around the hill to a flatter slope. Cuckoopaw paused a moment, staring at the tiny cat curled against the shore before following the others.

Owlstep stopped a few tail-lengths from the cat. It was a tom, wearing a blue collar. A kittypet? Owlstep moved closer. The cat may have had a collar, but he smelled like a loner. He was thin and soaked from the waves lapping the shore. He was asleep. No, not asleep, unconscious, there was a difference.

“He can’t be much older than the apprentices,” Owlstep said as Kitefall and the two sisters joined him. Owlstep moved close to the tom and picked him up by the scruff.

“He looks sick,” Kitefall noted, sniffing the strange cat’s pelt. 

“What fish-brain falls asleep by the shore?” Cuckoopaw asked.

“I don’t think he was in any condition to go further,” Kitefall sighed. “Cloudstripe and Emberpool should look after him.” The tom was small enough (or perhaps Owlstep was big enough) that Owlstep could comfortably lay him over his back.

“Our tour of the territory must be cut short,” Owlstep explained, leading the group away from the cove. “Cuckoopaw, Magpiepaw, remember this. All kits are to be protected, regardless of their place in the world.”

“Let’s leave the object lesson until after we make sure this little guy doesn’t die,” Kitefall sighed. “Let’s strengthen those muscles. Keep up!” Kitefall and Owlstep took off, racing through the rocks. Magpiepaw and Cuckoopaw stumbled after them, running faster than they ever had before to keep up with the full grown warriors.

The SealClan camp rested at the top of a cliff overlooking the shore, a gentle slope open to the sky and salty air, looking down on the world. Sappelt and Sagebranch stood guard outside the camp. Sappelt’s ears perked up as Owlstep approached.

“Who is that?” Sappelt asked, fur bristling, jutting her nose at the ginger cat.

“A sick cat,” Owlstep huffed. He never stopped moving, slipping between the two guards into the heart of the camp. Bushes carefully marked each den. A large rock sat at the center of the camp. With the day well under way, many clan cats were already out. Those that remained groomed one another by their dens or enjoyed a piece of fresh-kill. The bright golden figure of Aspenstar sat at the top of the slope, deep in conversation with his deputy Brinebelly. Aspenstar turned his gaze towards Owlstep as the unfamiliar scent of a loner reached his nose. The scent drew all eyes towards Owlstep. A young brown tom stuck his head out of the apprentice’s den. He moved towards Owlstep as the warrior entered the holy den.

“Let your father be for a minute, Barkpaw,” Kitefall warned, moving her tail in front of the brown tom.

“What’s he doing?” Barkpaw asked.

“We found a loner out by the shore,” Magpiepaw explained. “Kitefall thinks he’s sick.”

“A loner?” Magpiepaw’s mother, Dovefire, repeated, moving into the group. She had the curly fur of Cuckoopaw but Magpiepaw’s gray and white pelt. “Why would you bring a loner into camp?”

“He’s as old as your kits,” Kitefall huffed. “We weren’t going to leave a kit to drown at high tide.”

“Kitefall,” a deep voice broke through the conversation. Aspenstar had crept by them, Brinebelly lurking nearby. “If you found a lost kit on our territory, I’d like a report.” Kitefall nodded. Aspenstar led her up the slope towards the bush at the tip of the cliff; his den.

“This is a lot more interesting than a tour of the territory,” Cuckoopaw whispered to her sister, glancing into the holy den.

When the patrol arrived back at camp, Cloudstripe and Emberpool were sorting fresh herbs in the small alcove of the den reserved for their duties. Owlstep was so quiet, Cloudstripe only noticed him when he turned around.

“Great StarClan!” Cloudstripe yelped, back arching. “Don’t scare a cat like that, Owlstep. The least you could do is announce your presence.”

“Cloudstripe, look,” Emberpool gasped. Owlstep slid the orange kit into one of the patient nests. His fur soaked through the moss. Emberpool sniffed his pelt. She nosed his collar. “He’s freezing and clearly hasn’t eaten in a while. What happened?”

“We found him unconscious by the shore,” Owlstep explained. “He smells sick.”

“You’re right about that,” Cloudstripe huffed, sniffing the kit. “Can you get him some food?” Owlstep nodded and slipped out of the den. Emberpool started grooming him, licking his fur the wrong way. His paws shifted, tail waving slightly.

When Lobster opened his eyes, he saw the first tom cat he’d ever seen before. The scrawny gray cat stared at him with small green eyes, head tilted slightly. Someone was grooming him. A molly, warm and gentle.

“Mom?” Lobster asked, looking over his shoulder.

“I’m not your mother, little one,” Emberpool sighed, still grooming him. “My name is Emberpool. What were you doing so close to the shore?” Lobster tried to answer, but his stomach groaned. With a sudden spasm, he threw up what little food and water remained in his stomach. Cloudstripe squirmed, sneering at the mess.

“Cancel that food order,” he muttered just as Owlstep came back in with a mouse.

“Set it to the side for now,” Emberpool said, flicking her tail. “Have you been doing that a lot lately?”

“Sort of,” Lobster groaned.

“My gut says he has stumble-cough,” Emberpool huffed. Owlstep placed the mouse near Lobster’s nest. “Can you tell us your name? Where is your mother?”

“I’m Lobster,” Lobster mumbled, coughing as he spoke. He glanced at the mouse. His stomach churned, fur tingling. He needed the open sky, not branches above him. He stumbled up, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the fresh-kill.

“Hey, sit back down,” Cloudstripe snapped, snagging some exploding star from the fresh supply. “You’ll make yourself worse.”

“That’s my old mentor, Cloudstripe,” Emberpool explained. “The big brown tom is Owlstep.”

“I didn’t smell any mollies when I found him,” Owlstep noted.

“I really don’t want that,” Lobster stammered, putting his face into Emberpool’s chest. She wasn’t his mother, but she had such lovely red fur and was so warm. It was the closest he could get.

“Ah, lack of appetite, I think you’re right, Emberpool,” Cloudstripe sighed. “Can you eat these leaves? They’ll make you feel better.” Lobster glanced at the leaves by Cloudstripe’s feet.

“Why would I eat leaves?” Lobster asked.

“We’re healers, we give you plants that make you feel better,” Cloudstripe explained. 

“He’s a loner, he doesn’t know the ways of the clans,” Owlstep muttered. Lobster sniffed the leaves. They smelled alright. He carefully ate the leaves. His sharp teeth nashed awkwardly as he chewed.

“Why don’t you lay down,” Emberpool suggested. “The best way to heal from stumble-cough is rest.” Lobster obeyed, settling into the soft moss.

“Why am I here?” Lobster asked, head resting on his paws.

“It’s our duty as SealClan warriors to help kits in need,” Owlstep explained.

“SealClan?” Lobster repeated.

“We’re wild cats,” Emberpool said, puffing her chest out. “We live under a code and protect one another.”

“No wandering, wondering where your next meal would come from,” Cloudstripe added. “Though from the looks of that collar, you didn’t always live that life.” Lobster tucked his nose into his nest, coughing again.

“Where’s your mother?” Emberpool asked. Lobster closed his eyes.

“I think we are approaching counselor territory,” Owlstep sighed.

“Emberpool, why don’t you stay with him while I talk to Aspenstar?” Cloudstripe asked. “Feel free to give him more exploding star if he needs it.” Emberpool nodded, laying beside Lobster and gently licking his fur. The two toms padded out of the holy den.

“You really shouldn’t have too much exploding star,” Emberpool chuckled. “Our herbs are valuable resources that we only give out when needed.” Lobster coughed and stared at Emberpool. His claws scratched at the moss.

“My mother told me when you die, you go somewhere very nice,” Lobster mumbled. “Do you believe that?”

“In fact, I do,” Emberpool chirped. “When a clan cat dies, they join our ancestors in StarClan. At night, you can see them in the sky. Each star is a former clan cat.”

“So my mom and sister are stars,” Lobster muttered. Emberpool was about to correct him, tell him that only clan cats joined StarClan, but Lobster added; “Can I become a star?” Emberpool stopped grooming Lobster. She moved to look him dead in the eyes.

“Is that why you stopped by the shore?” she asked. “That was very dangerous. The tide would have come in and swallowed you up.”

“I don’t think so,” Lobster sighed. “I was tired and the ocean felt nice. Emberpool, if I die, could I meet my family in StarClan?”

“Maybe when you’re a hundred moons old,” Emberpool chuckled awkwardly.

“My mom didn’t get to be a hundred moons old,” Lobster huffed. He sat up, stomach threatening to vomit again. “I shouldn’t either. It’s only fair, right?”

“Your mother would love you to live a very long life,” Emberpool stammered, her fur rising.

“She wanted to stay with me!” Lobster snapped. “That’s why we ran away from our housefolk! She wants me to join her!” Emberpool’s ears went back slightly. She wasn’t trained for this.

“Uh, how about this?” Emberpool said hesitantly. She slipped into the nest beside Lobster and pulled him close. “How about we take a nap and we can discuss… joining StarClan afterwards?” Lobster frowned, but he laid down beside Emberpool anyway.

“Can you tell me more about StarClan?” Lobster asked, looking up at her.

“I’ll tell you more about SealClan, if that will help you sleep,” Emberpool sighed. “After all, StarClan is the best of clan life.”

“Okay,” Lobster grumbled. Emberpool groomed him a bit more, licking the right way so his fur looked proper.

“There are many roles needed for a proper clan,” Emberpool explained, whispering. “We have a leader, who has a deputy to help them and succeed them when they die. Our seers talk to StarClan and help guide us, while healers like me treat wounds and diseases. Warriors hunt and fight to protect the clan. There are also story-keepers, who enforce the warrior code and tell stories, and counselors, who help keep up morale. The queens raise their kits, and when kits get old enough, they start training as apprentices to become a full member of their clan. When a cat gets very old, they can retire as elders and rest for the rest of their days. We care for each other and keep each other safe and try to follow the will of StarClan.” Lobster’s eyes were closed, and he nestled beside Emberpool, splayed out awkwardly. Emberpool sighed and shook her head. “What are we going to do with you?”

“Psst,” someone whispered. “Lobster. Hey!” Lobster opened his eyes. It was dark outside the holy den, and Emberpool was gone. There was a molly in front of him, around his age. Her blue fur curled like his old housefolk’s fur. She smiled at Lobster with big amber eyes. Lobster scampered to his paws, coughing from the sudden movement.

“Where’s Emberpool?” Lobster asked, looking around.

“Shh!” the molly hissed. “Mountainleap’s sleeping back there!” she pointed her tail at a large sleeping tom in the corner. “He’s our seer. He’ll kick me out if he sees me. Emberpool and Cloudstripe went to the Hollow to meet the healers from the other clans. I wanted to meet you! I’m Cuckoopaw, do you remember me?”

“We’ve met?” Lobster asked.

“I was with Owlstep when we brought you to camp!” Cuckoopaw explained. “I’ve never met anyone outside of SealClan before. Are you really a loner?”

“Maybe,” Lobster huffed, licking his chest.

“I thought you were a kittypet, with the collar and all,” Cuckoopaw noted.

“I don’t know what that is, but I think I used to be one,” Lobster admitted.

“Relaxing all day sounds nice,” Cuckoopaw chuckled, laying beside the nest, “but I’d rather be a warrior, go where the wind takes me. Fewer naps, but it’s more fun!”

“I’d prefer naps too,” Lobster chuckled.

“Well, once you get better, you’ll get to take plenty of naps,” Cuckoopaw assured him. “I overheard my parents, Dovefire and Willowstone, talking about you. Apparently Aspenstar decided when you’re healthy, they’ll leave you near the humans so you can go back to being a kittypet.”

“Go back to my housefolk?” Lobster asked.

“Yeah!” Cuckoopaw chirped. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I’m a little jealous.” Lobster’s ears were pinned to his head.

“I can’t, my mom wanted me to stay with her!” Lobster stammered, shaking his head.

“It’s up to Aspenstar where you go,” Cuckoopaw said.

“I can’t become a kittypet again!” Lobster snapped. “I need to join StarClan!”

“You can’t join StarClan,” Cuckoopaw laughed. “You have to die to join StarClan!” Lobster got to his feet, stumbling towards the exit. There were so many cats here, the smell was intense.

“Aspenstar decides where I go?” Lobster asked, glancing back at Cuckoopaw.

“Yeah, but he’s sleeping,” Cuckoopaw sighed, flicking her ears towards his den. “You’ll have to talk to him later.” Lobster tightened his jaw. His walk still awkward from stumble-cough, he marched up the slope. Cuckoopaw’s pupils contracted. “Hold on, Lobster, you can’t wake him up, he’s the leader! Lobster!” Her cries did nothing to slow his steady march. “I’m going to be in so much trouble.” Cuckoopaw bolted towards the apprentice’s den near the edge of camp. Lobster coughed, claws digging into the ground to keep him steady. He stomped to the edge of  Aspenstar’s den and pushed through the leaves.

“I want to join StarClan!” Lobster declared head held high. Aspenstar lept out of his nest, back arched, looking around for intruders. His eyes settled on the small orange tom with the blue collar that was still too big for him.

“Wha…” he muttered, looking the kit up and down. “Are you Lobster?”

“You want to send me to live with humans, but you can’t,” Lobster huffed, slamming a paw down. “I need to be with my mother. She’s dead, and the dead cats are all in StarClan. So send me to StarClan!”

“Only clan cats go to StarClan,” Aspenstar gunted, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Your mother is somewhere else.”

“So I’ll join her there!” Lobster yowled. “Take me there!”

“You’ll wake the clan with that racket,” Aspenstar snapped, before he realized what Lobster said. “Lobster, you’d have to die to join your mother. You realize what that means, right?”

“Then I’ll do that!” Lobster growled. “She wants me to be with her at all costs! Kill me and let me join her!”

“Woah,” Aspenstar grunted, stepping towards Lobster. “I’m not killing a kit. Taking you to the humans was an idea that I discussed with my senior counselors, I don’t even know how you learned about that. No one’s going to kill you.”

“Then I’ll do it myself!” Lobster hissed.

“That’s not happening either!” Aspenstar gasped, mouth agape. “We rescued you. You need to calm down.”

“Aspenstar?” someone asked. A new face peeked into the den. He had curly fur like Cuckoopaw but was red and striped and seemed to have a mane of fur against his thick pelt. His one white paw helped bat aside the hanging leaves.

“Ah, Redburr,” Aspenstar sighed. “This kit barged into my den with…”

“I want to die!” Lobster huffed, lifting his head towards Redburr.

“Well that’s a cry for help if I’ve ever heard one,” Redburr scoffed. “I was returning to camp after a walk and found this apprentice racing back to her den like she’d done something wrong.” Cuckoopaw poked her head inside, head lowered.

“Hi, Aspenstar,” Cuckoopaw sighed.

“She told me the loner ran in here,” Redburr explained. “With all due respect, Aspenstar, you look like you’re a bit overwhelmed.”

“I was a story-keeper before my leadership, not a counselor,” Aspenstar chuckled, licking his chest. “I trust you to handle this.”

“Don’t make a scene, alright?” Redburr sighed. He picked Lobster up by the scruff, the collar rubbing awkwardly in his mouth. Lobster was too tired to fight back.

“I’m sorry, Lobster,” Cuckoopaw said.

“Go back to your den,” Aspenstar muttered, settling into his nest. Redburr and Cuckoopaw slipped out of Aspenstar’s den and back towards the holy den. At the same time, Emberpool and Cloudstripe strolled into camp. Cloudstripe pushed back a yawn and didn’t even notice Redburr.

“What’s Lobster doing awake?” Emberpool asked, hurrying to Redburr.

“It’s an odd story,” Redburr admitted, setting Lobster down. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to watch over him tonight, just in case.” Lobster hissed softly, glaring at Redburr.

“Did he…” Emberpool gasped, horror growing on her face.

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” Redburr assured her.

“He’s my patient, you go to sleep,” Emberpool huffed, picking Lobster up.

“You walked across the clans and back tonight, you sleep,” Redburr grunted. “I’ll be fine. What are brothers for?” Emberpool frowned, but flicked her tail towards the holy den and slipped inside. Mountainleap was still asleep, and Cloudstripe was settling into his nest. Emberpool placed Lobster down and slipped into her own nest. Redburr pulled a spare nest to Lobster and sat down facing him. Lobster hissed at him again and buried his face in the moss.

Two days later, with the sun hidden behind thick clouds, the cats of SealClan were gathered around the rock in the center of camp where Aspenstar stood, making some sort of announcement. Lobster, meanwhile, was stuck inside the holy den, facing this insufferable tom.

“Tell me the story again,” Redburr sighed, stretching in his nest. “Tell me why you want to die.”

“I told you three times already!” Lobster groaned. “Don’t you remember?” Redburr placed his head between his paws and stared. Lobster sighed, triggering a small coughing fit. He laid on his back. “My family is dead. They aren’t in StarClan, but they’re wherever loners go when they die. My mother fought for us to stay together, so I want to join her. Apparently, the only way to do that is to die.”

“If there was a way for you to join your mother without dying, would you take it?” Redburr asked.

“I don’t know, because there isn’t another way,” Lobster muttered, rolling onto his belly.

“Indulge me,” Redburr huffed.

“I’m telling the truth, I don’t know!” Lobster snapped.

“You don’t know if you want to die?” Redburr asked. “If you had two options to see your mother, and one of them was dying, would you still choose to die?”

“Maybe,” Lobster grumbled. “Why does it matter?”

“Everything matters,” Redburr sighed. “I want to know what you really want. Do you want your family back or do you want to die? If I’m going to help you, you need to figure that out. So I’ll keep asking for the story until we know.”

“I want what my mom wanted,” Lobster grunted. “That’s for us to be together, being free.”

“Ah, something new!” Redburr purred, ears perking up. “She wanted you to be free! From humans, I assume.”

“She said they’d take us away from her, so we had to leave,” Lobster explained, scratching at his collar.

“Is that what you wanted?” Redburr asked.

“I don’t know,” Lobster muttered, “but if humans are mean enough to take kits from their mother, then I don’t want anything to do with them.” Aspenstar hopped off the rock. SealClan began to spread out through camp.

“I have an idea, but there’s one more thing I want to say to you before I go,” Redburr sighed, standing. “You’re a smart cat. I know you know wanting to die isn’t healthy. You know that’s not what you actually want. Try finding another way to fulfill your mom’s wishes.” Redburr strutted out of the holy den just as Cloudstripe came back in. The two nodded at each other as they passed. Cloudstripe ignored Lobster, however, heading straight to his herb supply. The holy den was far too dark for Lobster’s comfort. Lobster hopped out of his nest and dragged it near the exit so he could see the rest of the camp. He tucked his paws under his chest and watched the clan.

While Lobster watched, Owlstep and Kitefall strolled into camp. Magpiepaw and Cuckoopaw trailed behind them, panting.

And here I thought you wanted battle training,” Kitefall purred, glancing back at the apprentices.

“It was more than I expected,” Magpiepaw huffed, shaking out her fur.

“I’m ready for a nap,” Cuckoopaw groaned.

“You’re ready for Salmonmask’s big lesson,” Owlstep sighed. “She’s teaching all the young apprentices the history of our border with CliffClan at sunhigh.”

“So long as I can eat,” Cuckoopaw grumbled, glancing at Owlstep. Owlstep nodded, and Cuckoopaw seemed to regain a bit of energy. She trotted towards the fresh-kill pile, carefully hidden in a small hole covered by a bush.

“I have to say,” Kitefall chuckled, rubbing her head against Owlstep, “being a mentor alongside you has been one of the most exciting things to happen lately.” Owlstep licked Kitefall’s forehead.

“Hey, Mom, Dad, are you staying in camp for a while?” Barkpaw trotted out of the apprentice’s den, tail high. “I had this really fun idea. Railfur says I should make my own story for future generations. I realized SealClan doesn’t have many stories on why we should help kits outside of the clan beyond the one about why we have the rule. I want to make a story about the loner you both found! Can you tell me your side of the story?”

“Nice to see you’re taking initiative,” Owlstep purred as Kitefall and Barkpaw touched noses. Lobster watched them from the holy den, head tilted. Cuckoopaw had told him the names of some of the SealClan cats, so he knew who those three cats were. He had no idea Kitefall was Barkpaw’s mother. That didn’t make any sense.

“Cloudstripe, can I ask you something?” Lobster asked, looking over his shoulder.

“You just did,” Cloudstripe laughed.

“Why does Kitefall keep leaving camp without Barkpaw?” Lobster asked, watching the family settle down to share their side of his arrival story. 

“She’s a warrior, she had duties to attend to,” Cloudstripe sighed.

“But she’s a mother,” Lobster huffed, turning to face Cloudstripe. “She can’t keep leaving her kit behind.”

“What else would she do?” Cloudstripe scoffed, going to sit by the loner.

“I stayed by my mother’s side everywhere she went,” Lobster explained. “She didn’t like it when we went anywhere without her. Kitefall’s ignoring her son!”

“You stayed near her because you’re a kit,” Cloudstripe huffed. “Mothers are always worried when their kits are young. Kitefall spent the first six moons of Barkpaw’s life as a queen, spent her entire time caring for him. But Barkpaw’s an apprentice now. He’s growing up. Kitefall has her own life and doesn’t need to always be with him.”

“But that’s what mothers do…” Lobster muttered, his claim losing strength as he spoke.

“It’s not like she’s abandoned Barkpaw, clearly,” Cloudstripe scoffed, nodding at the happy family. “He’s not her first kit, either. Sprucefoot, Sparrowsong, and Rabbitface are her kits too. They still love each other, even though they aren’t always with each other. Even when Kitefall or Owlstep head to StarClan, they’ll all still love each other and remember them until their time comes to join them in StarClan. It’s all part of being a—oh no.” The reason for that “oh no” was because Lobster had started to cry. His body shook, head buried into the side of his mossy nest. His chest ached, claws sheathing and unsheathing. Cloudstripe’s ears twisted, eyes darting around for some assistance.

“StarClan, don’t cry, why are you crying?” Cloudstripe groaned. “I have some roseroot, can you eat that and stop crying, please?” He scampered to his herb stores and searched for roseroot.

“Lobster, what’s wrong?” Cuckoopaw slipped into the den, abandoning her meal across the camp. “Was Cloudstripe mean to you?”

“I was not!” Cloudstripe snapped, tail bristling. “He just started crying!”

“I miss my mom,” Lobster cried. “I should have let her take my collar.” Cuckoopaw looked around helplessly. Should she find Redburr or another counselor? Carefully, she rested her head on top of Lobster’s back. He continued to cry, tucked into himself, yet he wasn’t quite as loud. He focused on the comforting weight of Cuckoopaw’s head, disregarding Cloudstripe’s stares or the glances from the warriors outside.

While that was going on, Aspenstar sat in front of Redburr with his back to his den and said “Do you think he’s capable?”

“He’s a kit who lost his mother,” Redburr sighed. “We’ve had plenty of those and will have plenty more. He wants freedom and company. I think this will work.”

“I’m trusting you to watch over him,” Aspenstar muttered. HIs tough expression softened. “And keep him out of my den.”

“Yes, sir,” Redburr declared.

“I’m starting to regret this,” Lobster groaned as Emberpool carefully groomed his pelt.

“It’s very simple,” Emberpool assured him. 

“I can’t be trusted with the lives of others,” Lobster stammered. “How am I supposed to do this?”

“You’ve made a few friends in the quarter moon you’ve been here,” Emberpool chuckled. “You’ll have plenty of support. But StarClan help you if you ever think of—”

“I won’t, Emberpool,” Lobster interrupted, pulling out of her grasp. “I promise.”

“Do you still want to?” she asked softly, resting her paw on Lobster’s paw. Lobster stared at the herbs near the back wall.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought of it,” Lobster muttered. “I miss my mom and my sister so, so much.” Lobster met Emberpool’s eyes. “But I can remember them until I see them, right?” Emberpool purred and licked his ear.

“Usually your mother is supposed to groom you, but I hope I did a good job,” Emberpool sighed. “I don’t trust you anywhere near the ocean or my herbs, though.”

“Alright,” Lobster chuckled awkwardly.

“All cats old enough to swim through the ocean, gather below the Highrock for a clan meeting!” Aspenstar yowled, hopping onto the large rock. As the clan gathered around their leader, Lobster turned to go. Emberpool stuck her tail in front of him.

“Wait for your cue,” Emberpool cautioned. Lobster nodded and sat back down. Cuckoopaw was near the Highrock, smiling like this day was about her.

“StarClan has blessed us, my loyal clanmates,” Aspenstar declared, looking over the crowd with a smile. “Not long ago, we welcomed two new apprentices into our ranks. Today, we welcome a third. The loner Lobster wishes to abandon his old, self-centered life and join SealClan in training to become a prized counselor.” Aspenstar looked towards the holy den. With Emberpool trailing after him, Lobster stepped into the camp. The warriors parted as he walked. He stopped in front of the Highrock, looking up at Aspenstar.

“Lobster,” Aspenstar said, “from this day on, until you receive your counselor name, you shall be known as Lobsterpaw. StarClan, I ask that you guide this apprentice. Set his paws on the path he must follow to become a counselor. Redburr.” Redburr emerged from the crowd, perfectly groomed. “Redburr, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from Willowstone and have shown yourself to be strong-willed and loyal. You will be the mentor to Lobsterpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to him.” Redburr moved in front of Lobsterpaw. He touched his nose to Lobsterpaw’s nose, smiling.

“Lobsterpaw!” the clan cheered. “Lobsterpaw! Lobsterpaw!” Aspenstar hopped off the Highrock.

“I spent all of last night setting up a nest for you,” Cuckoopaw chirped, hopping to Lobsterpaw’s side. “You’re an apprentice now! How do you feel?”

“The same, honestly,” Lobsterpaw admitted as Emberpool joined him.

“Welcome to SealClan,” Aspenstar purred, nodding to Lobsterpaw. “Let’s get that collar off of you.” He moved towards Lobsterpaw.

“What?” Lobsterpaw squealed, backing up. “Why?”

“Counselors don’t wear collars,” Aspenstar explained. “It shows your loyalties don’t lie completely in SealClan.” Lobsterpaw tried to breathe. He could see Reke and Shrimp in front of him, demanding his collar. Lobsterpaw swallowed his fear as best he could.

“Aspenstar,” Lobsterpaw begged. “This collar is the last thing I have of my family. SealClan are the only living cats I have any loyalty to. It won’t mess with my training. Please, don’t take this collar from me.” Aspenstar flicked his tail.

“It’s highly unusual,” he muttered.

“To be fair, Lobsterpaw has been quite unusual,” Redburr added, a tail on Lobsterpaw’s back.

“I won’t tear it off if you aren’t willing to let it go,” Aspenstar sighed. “I’m not willing to fight you for something like this. You may keep the collar for now.” Lobsterpaw nodded furiously. “I’ll leave you to your training.” Aspenstar strolled to his den.

“Can I come with you while you show Lobsterpaw the territory?” Cuckoopaw asked.
“If Owlstep will come with,” Redburr said, nodding.

“I’ll go ask him,” Cuckoopaw chirped. “Congratulations, Lobsterpaw!” Cuckoopaw strutted towards the warrior’s den. Emberpool licked Lobsterpaw’s ear before heading to her own den.

“How are you doing?” Redburr asked, stretching.

“Nervous,” Lobsterpaw admitted. “Worried. Sad.”

“That’ll last for a while,” Redburr sighed. “Losing family is horrible to go through. I believe in you, though. Getting out of camp will do you some good.” Lobsterpaw looked to the sky. There were no stars out, as it was morning, but the sunlight warmed his fur.

“I think so,” Lobsterpaw said.