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Chapter Text

The sun rests low and easy in the gold and violet sky. A drowsy black-and-white tom rests in its red light atop a warm slate slab, a comfort in the creeping cool of autumn. His brows are whitened with age, his frame thin from life as a feral cat. With a twitch of his nose, he scents another with him. His paling yellow eyes open, focusing on the strange cat standing on the thick clay bank. With a purr, he flicks his tail in greeting and beckons the cat to join him in the dying rays of the sun.

Greetings, Outsider. Welcome to our Forest. What would you like to know about?

Everything? Well, that's a tall order. There's quite a lot to everything, isn't there? But we can start with the basics.

We are the four Warrior Clans who live in this Valley. This wood here is home to the noble ThunderClan, the marshes over yonder is where the pious ShadowClan lives, the moors you can barely make out from here are the dashing grounds of the stoic WindClan, and the pastures beyond the grove on the other side of the River is home to the frivolous RiverClan. We worship the Three: Horoa the Lion, Surīn the Leopard, and Rrokhar the Tiger, and pay respects to their Mother, who lays sleeping in the Highlands beyond WindClan's moors. In death, we hope to join our ancestors along the Starpath in StarClan.

Oh dear, this may take a while. Settle down, Outsider, I can get Lizardpaw to fetch us some mice.

Chapter Text

There are two versions of the story of how all things began. The one the Clans know deals in monsters and magic, and a rose-tinted idea of the importance of warriors and the feline people in general. The one told here is from the collective knowledge of scholars, and is much closer to the truth.

Once upon a time, there was a seemingly never-ending forest, and it was home to thousands of animals: badgers, foxes, stoats, owls, and best of all, an uncountable amount of prey to feed those animals. No one hungered or wanted for land to call their own. The forest brought in curious visitors every day, who had heard tales of this land of plenty and had come to see if the stories were true. 

Among them were the cats, a very foreign creature that the others had not seen before. Cats are remarkable at taking over an area and exploding in numbers before anyone has a chance to blink, and these ones did not disappoint in that aspect. They quickly took up the remaining available space and settled in to hunt and sleep to their heart's content. 

But they did not come from nowhere, as the rest of the predators had assumed. They had been brought in by humans, who were even more alien than the cats, and who were on their way after their escapee pets. With humans came a drastic upheaval—the forest was cut down to a quarter of its original size just as fast as the cats had made themselves comfortable; the once wooded slope to the west had a structure built near it and the ground was torn up for planting strange grass; the east was taken over by glass and brick from the humans; and finally, a straight, wide path, stinking of something foreign and dangerous, cut the area apart, splitting the high stones in the west and the growing wetlands in the north from the hills and what remained of the forest. 

This unprecedented shrinking of territory left many animals without a home, or in defense of the little they had left. Friend turned on friend, family forgotten. Quickly, a free-for-all broke out, leading to many predators dead or severely injured and fleeing for their life from the forest. The cats proved themselves adaptable to any situation—the entire community banded together and, as a team, drove out the rest of the predators, sending them in every direction but the east and properly taking the forest for themselves.

The victory was short-lived as a new problem presented itself: everyone had lingered as long as there was food to eat before escaping. Mice, squirrels, birds, rabbits—there were barely any of them left. It wasn't helped by the cats having a tendency to overhunt when there was nothing else to do. The unity once present dissolved as territories began to overlap and cats attacked each other for pathetic morsels that could be swallowed whole. The few kittypets living with humans had even their terrible food stolen, with some cats deserting the forest to wander the developing streets, hoping for charity. The prey population continued to shrink and some turned to even more desperate, much darker sources of food. 

Things got even worse when a crew of pilgrims arrived, late to the party and unaware of how bad the forest had gotten. Natives immediately bullied them away from their scant reserves. With nowhere else to go, the pilgrims huddled on the other side of the river on the edge of the forest and prayed for help. 

Then she arrived.

To this day, no one knows where the old molly known only as the Crone came from. She seemed to appear from the mist to inspect the forest, sniff disdainfully, and call together a sizable cluster of cats before leading them away to the hills, where some of the human grass had gotten loose and taken over the moor. 

The decrease in population helped reserve the dwindling resources a bit, and cats temporarily forgot their battles to watch curiously as the new colony in the west found a place to settle at the top of the hills and thrive on the influx of prey that came from the farmland, which had receded its grip on the moor and left it free to hunt on. Several cats discussed leaving the forest to request sanctuary with this colony. Others turned their eyes across the human's path (that was slowly turning into stinking black stone), where the wetlands were settling into a proper marsh. The pilgrims' scant territory was growing grass, bringing in some animals to hunt.

Before any action could be taken on its own, the Crone reappeared in the forest and called together the residents. She announced that her test run of creating a colony had gone successfully, and now she was ready to help the rest of the scattered cats create their own groups, organize a hunting system, and allow their land to restore itself to something one could comfortably live in. This, she said, would ensure an era of peace for everyone, and if any were interested, they could come with her to be trained as leaders to complete her mission.

Four cats volunteered: Brawn, a huge, powerful tom that had fought and won many battles in exchange for prey; Ripple, a stray from far off that had fallen in with the pilgrims; Dewdrop, a former kittypet who had been cast out from her home and was desperate for security; and Clear Sky, a pilgrim that was ambitious and eager to join the project. The Crone took all four of them and left for the hills again without another word, except an order to limit the hunting in the forest. This was obeyed, since there wasn't enough prey to hunt normally anyway.

Before too long, the four cats returned and began to gather cats. Brawn called for those that he considered allies of himself or his friends, which were mostly those he had fought together with before, giving him the strongest fighters, and claimed the forest for his colony. Ripple had his pilgrims already, and they stayed south, on the far side of the river. Those that had been cast away or were weak or distrusted were taken in by Dewdrop, who brought them to the marshes so that they were far enough away to not cause problems with the other colonies. The rest who did not fit in anywhere else or were loners looking to have a proper home again followed Clear Sky to the outlier part of the land, touching only the corner of the forest and river territories. The Crone brought in no one else except one stray pilgrim called Grey Wing as her new second-in-command, a position she called "deputy". The other leaders followed suit by appointing deputies for their own, carefully chosen to contrast their superiors and speak as the voice of the rest of the colonies. 

With this, the leaders exercised what the Crone had taught them: in an unheard of move, hunting was organized and scheduled, with acceptable hunting areas changed day-to-day and prey of the day altering depending on what had the most numbers at the time. Borders were laid out so that no one accidentally took from another colony and reduced their number of prey. The most amazing of these decisions came from the pilgrims, who Ripple taught to hunt in the water—because no one had dared to jump in the deeper parts or even really fish at all, there was plenty of prey for the pilgrims, leading to no source of conflict with anyone else. The other colonies slowly began to prosper over time as less cats shared more prey with their communities. The exception was Clear Sky's colony, which he proved to be a poor leader of and was eventually driven out before the colony disbanded and either joined up with the others or left for other areas. 

With the unusual, regimented structure, there came a very faint sense of ranks within the colonies: the leader, the deputy, and queens, with the average member not belonging to any of these and being unnamed in their position. Queens were given special treatment and their own dens to have their children, and they had prey delivered to them while they raised the next generation. 

As time went on and the colonies grew strong, healthy and well-fed, their members' confidence were boosted. Old grudges resurfaced and the borders that were put in place to help hunting became places to defend or skirmish to settle arguments. Fights broke out, even with the leaders attempting to resolve disputes peacefully. Worse, these fights escalated as more cats joined their new friends to defend their pride or help with revenge. Things got worse and more vicious, until several very young cats got caught in a large battle they had nothing to do with and were killed.

This was the breaking point. Queens across the territories campaigned for a law to be set in place for the protection of their kits, while the more peaceful members encouraged rules of their own to prevent these unnecessary fights. The leaders got together and devised a burgeoning code that every cat was expected to follow if they wanted to stay in their home. 

The first of these was making a new rank for cats that were too young to be acceptably attacked, with a suffix to their name, -kit, which was taken away once they were older. These cats were under six months old, and were absolutely forbidden to be hurt or killed. Those that aged out of it were still in danger, until Brawn's deputy, Ember, started teaching them to hunt and fight to protect themselves. The rest of the colonies, now under the name of "Clans", immediately borrowed this idea. Soon after came the next rank of apprentice, and the suffix of -kit was changed to -paw. 

At the time, suffixes were reserved for the young, but the leader of the river Clan, now called River Ripple to give respect to his territory, took his group's original two-part naming system and awarded apprentices for making it to adulthood with their own individual suffixes. This, too, very quickly became popular with everyone else. 

More changes were made over time—elder as a rank being added, religion and seers blossoming into things of great value, more additions to the code, the Clans being properly named, and so on—but these came to be more gradual. For now, at least, the wild and fast alteration of the forest from a place of chaos and disorder to a variety of territories with law-abiding Clans had been completed. From there, things have only gotten better.

Chapter Text

The Crone

“I came from the lands where hedgehogs breathe smoke, where the trees dig their roots into the sky, where hounds are masters and humans their pets. Even in a realm with less sense than this land, the cats there have more sense than the brutes here.”
—The Crone, the Midnight section of the Epic of the First Clan

To inquire of this mysterious old molly's origins is to ask the wind from whence he brings his clouds and rain. Regardless of where she came from or what her motives were when she established the Clans, her legacy lives on now, immortalized in the hearts and breaths of the cats amongst the Forest.

Those who knew her in life spoke of a cranky old bat who, despite frequently snapping at her unruly charges, truly loved them and respected them and disciplined them to be their best selves. Her death is said to have been one of moderate pain, having been eaten away by a pain in her gut not satiated by simply eating, but her funeral was a well-attended one. Cats from across the Forest, from far away lands, from the growing Town in the west, all paid their respects.

For such an important figure in Clan history, infuriatingly little is remembered of her, even by non-Clan cats and scholars of claw, talon, and hoof. Her name remained in perpetual enigma and her visage has been forgotten to history. Perhaps she likes the anonymity, deep in her resting place within the Mother's Heart.

WOODLANDERS

Brawn

“I am not bright like my brother Ripple, nor am I shrewd like Clear Sky or pure of heart like Dewdrop. I often drive my teacher to fury, but for whatever gods out there that blessed me with my claws and my spirit, I shan't disappoint them and let them go to waste.”
—Brawn, the Daybreak section of the Epic of the First Clan

Son of the Storm, Chief of the Wood, and founder of what would become ThunderClan, Brawn could've been considered something of a leader to the cats within the Forest, albeit more like a benevolent boss to a band of strays than a true StarClan-blessed leader. Orphaned at a young age, having lost his littermates to a tyrannical seer-like cat, he carved a name for himself with his blood-siblings Ember and Dart and established something resembling order amidst the chaos of those early days before the Crone.

The fact that he agreed to come under her tutelage apparently surprised many; the fact that he remained her faithful disciple and managed to come out of it a great leader shocked all. Upon carving out his territory in the Woodlands, he named his blood-sister Ember his deputy, citing her cunning and cool nature as the best counterbalance to his turbulent demeanor.

His appearance, though forgotten and disputed, was said to fit his epithet “Son of the Storm”, but he was described to be quite handsome and set the bar for ThunderClan beauty standards. In most retellings, he's said to be dark like the angry storms or red like the sky before then, but regardless of the color of his pelt, he was massive, large-pawed, and had the face of a great cat.

Sadly to the cats of modern ThunderClan, his resting ground is forgotten. Most hope he was laid to rest with his blood-siblings in Hero's Grove, though most cynical elders bet his body was fed to the buzzards.

Ember

“Hear yourself, Brawn! You mewl like a newborn kit complaining of her mother's absence! You're stronger than that and you know it! Now cease your lamenting, for you have myself and Dart by your sides, and we will not see you fail. Gods know I shan't allow it.”
—Ember, the Dawn section of the Epic of the First Clan

Noteworthy not just because of her position as the first deputy of ThunderClan—or the Woodlanders, as modern Clan cats call it—Ember's name became legendary for her ingenuity and empathy. In the aftermath of a pointless battle that ended the lives of many young cats, it was she who heard the grieving queens' cries and she who established the laws so no queen would have to suffer as they did.

Some say she became a mother herself and that her blood runs in ThunderClan to this day, others say she was too dedicated to her tasks to make time for a litter, and yet others—mostly RiverClan—say she had no interest in rearing kittens of her own, that her empathy for her fellow mollies was what drove her actions. Regardless, she holds up to this day as the greatest deputy the Clans have seen.

Rumors have it she was born as the bastard kitten of a kittypet, but her blood-brothers' efforts to dispel that rumor leave some to believe it was a sore truth they wished to hide or a noble stand against slander of their blood-sister. Even her appearance is disputed, either as a dark tortoiseshell paired with Brawn's ginger or a dark gray tortoiseshell to fit her epithet “Storm-Sister”. Her cause of death, sadly, is forgotten.

Dart

“It was fate that brought us together, my dear blood-siblings, and nothing shall drive us apart. I swear by the stars and the storms that I will do my best to make this forest our home.”
—Dart, the Dusk section of the Epic of the First Clan

While not having many achievements to his name, Dart's importance among the founders of ThunderClan cannot be disputed. To leave him out for not holding a position of power would be like to neglect Rrokhar for not having one of His eyes in the heavens. Unfortunately, due to his obscurity, his life is swathed in the most mystery of his blood-siblings.

His bond with Brawn is often emphasized in the stories recited in his name, and they're looked back upon as the greatest friendship the Clans have ever known. With Brawn as the Thunderer, Dart was the Bolt, and his appearance is either dark stormy gray to contrast with Brawn's bright ginger pelt or white like lightning with his gloamy gray siblings.

For a cat seeped in obscurity, his death is the most well-known of his siblings'. In the Moonrise segment of the Epic of Thunder Forest, it recounts the events of Dart's death at the teeth of hounds in protecting Brawn's expecting lover, Brawn and Ember's great grieving for him, and his burial at the roots of the Great Sycamore.

Owlsight

“Hark! Leaders of all Clans! The Forest is no place for barbarous murderers and lying lowlives! We've grown past that, and justice should be served for the death of Brawn's eldest kitten. If you happen upon the tom called Splinter, show him no mercy and bring me his teeth.”
—Owlsight, the Midday section of the Epic of Thunder Forest

No one expected such a scrawny little cat to become the successor of Brawn of all leaders, but she proved to have made an excellent choice. Before her day, ThunderClan's battle tactics only benefited those like Brawn and ThunderClan's typical stock—massive, well-muscled, and undauntable—while smaller, more lithe cats like herself struggled after their peers. She took the teachings of her mentor, Dart, and developed them into hunting and fighting styles more well-suited for the smaller cats of the Clan.

She certainly fit her name, the epics say, taking in the world and scrutinizing it with her large eyes. She was far more calculating than Brawn, more often condemning cats to death, yet she's remembered as a fair and just leader, even as the first noteworthy ThunderClan cat to recognize and give prayers to Horoa.

Even cats so unlike ThunderClan can do things that are just so ThunderClan.

MARSHLANDERS

Dewdrop

“I know many have hurt you, my friends, and I'm sorry. Your pain is my pain too. I plead with you to not be embittered by this and to have your vengeance by living in joy despite their attempts to ruin it.”
—Dewdrop, the Dusk section of the Epic of the First Clan

Mistress of Moonlight, Sister of Shadows, and founder of what would become ShadowClan. The Crone placed low odds on the soft little kittypet securing a place among the Forest. Thankfully, Dewdrop proved to everyone she could stand on her own with kindness and trust. Despite her small and demure appearance, she had an aura about her that commanded respect from even the most hard-hearted of cats; when she spoke, cats were damn sure to pay attention.

In a world where not much empathy was given to the misfortunate or the untrustworthy, she placed trust in them and gave them a sense of belonging. When it came time for her to stake her claims to a territory, she took in the distrusted, the villainized, and the unwanted, one such incident recounted in the Midday section of the Epic of the Shadowed Haven. A tom from the Uplands named Frost had his leg grievously burned in a fire, to the point it hampered his ability to hunt for the Clan. Clear Sky banished him for this, and Dewdrop took the tom into the Marshlands with tail held high. Feeling a sense of belonging, Frost lived out the rest of his days joyfully in the Marshlands.

However, Dewdrop was aware of her own shortcomings, and during the period in which she trained under the Crone, she came to befriend a pilgrim, Tall Shadow. The two became trusted allies and that trust led to Dewdrop appointing her as her deputy. Of the Crone's disciples, she was the longest to live, and while her grave is unknown, there's a small silvery pebble placed on a stone pile near the entrance to the Mother in her honor.

Tall Shadow

“Stand down, Clear Sky! The earth cares not one way or another for your bliss or your sorrow. I grieve for your beloved too, we all do. But we must press on; the sun still rises and sets without her, just as it will when we breathe our last.”
—Tall Shadow, from the Poems of the Pilgrims

Wraith of the Pilgrims, Keeper of the Marshes, and the first deputy of ShadowClan. Even before her arrival to the Forest, she suffered the hardships of losing some of her own, including the leader of the pilgrims' band. The Poems of the Pilgrims recounts Tall Shadow and Clear Sky's power struggle in the wake of their leader's death. Even when the pilgrims were ushered into what is now RiverClan territory, their fight for power drove a wedge between the struggling cats.

No one's sure why Tall Shadow never heeded the Crone's call—perhaps someone needed to keep an eye on the pilgrims—but she did join the Moorlands some moons later to see for herself how her friend Ripple and her rival Clear Sky were faring. There she met Dewdrop and the two hit it off well, to the point it felt natural for her to be asked to join the former kittypet's side in deputyship. While Dewdrop handled unruly cats with a firm voice and a harsh word, Tall Shadow backed up her leader's words with her claws and teeth.

Unfortunately, Tall Shadow's story ends poorly. Recounted in the Moonrise section of the Epic of the Shadowed Haven, the Marshlands' wraith had been found dead with a former Uplander to blame for the death. In a rare moment of pure fury, Dewdrop sentenced the cat to death, and a long portion of the Cycle is dedicated to her grief for her fallen companion. Not much of a body was left for a funeral, but the shadow of Dewdrop's memorial is enough for the descendants of their Clan.

Rubble

“The mighty maple choked by roses. Storms rend the rain from the thunder. The heavenly inferno stains the night red. Starry shadows and sunlit snow and the silver water-reeds. O Mighty Sycamore, do the flowers and the sticks deliver you from the ants? You! Yes, you, Fern Leaf! Where's my frog? Didn't Dewdrop say I needed my frog?”
—Rubble, from the Morning section of the Epic of the First Clan

One of the first seer-like cats in Clan history, dreamy-eyed and aloof. No one's really sure where this tom came from, but rumors had it he was a former kittypet. Interestingly enough, he didn't show up much in the epics all that often, only featuring to impart some rambling nonsense and disappear into the background once again—only for that “rambling nonsense” to turn out to be a prophecy.

For arguably the first seer of ShadowClan, it's surprising how little the most pious Clan knows of him.

MOORLANDERS

Gray Wing

“When the holly leaf is eaten by deer, the round leaves grow back bristling. Likewise should the wise leader's losses grow into strength. The fool leader laments the damaged Clan and never rebuilds.”
—Clan Upkeep in Proverbs for a Leader, accredited to Gray Wing

Sometimes considered the Crone's fifth disciple and the true first leader of WindClan, Gray Wing was considered by many an excellent choice for the Crone's successor to the Moorland. The epics say he was Clear Sky's brother, and while he was far less outwardly cruel than him, he still had his fair share of controversies to dispute past his death. For one, his relationships with kittypets were usually rocky, even so far as to suggest an abused kittypet return to her humans and unsavory living conditions. His relationships with Dewdrop and River Ripple were noted to be rather terse.

Despite his opinions on kittypets, he was an affectionate mate and caring father. Unfortunately most of the segments on Gray Wing's family life are forgotten by the Clans, but snippets of them appear in the standard recitals of the Epic of the Crone's Lands. He had at least one litter he sired himself, but he was also known to be a father figure to multiple other litters. 

As for his leadership position, Gray Wing was remembered as a cunning tactician, utilizing his cats' skills, pelt colors, the weather, and the terrain in his strategies. Most of the wisdoms about battle tactics in Proverbs for a Leader are accredited to him, much to the embarrassment of ThunderClan. Some cats say that when a cat is named -wing, it's in reference to Gray Wing, but this is not the case.

Dusty

“The fox and badger should bother you no longer, dear old friend. The Untamed One sends her regards, but it is clear that an Untamed like her and we snow-stained cannot get along. Perhaps one day when our Grandmother has swallowed our bones, our kittens' kittens and her kittens' kittens shall frolick under the Eyes of the Crows. Oh how I wish to see that day for myself.”
—Dusty, from the Dawn section of the Epic of the Crone's Lands

Before the Crone's arrival, cats were divided into two categories: rogues like Brawn and Slash who used their superior strength to enforce their fickle will onto their fellow cats, and the cats they pushed around. However, most scholars propose there was a third category: cats who used their cunning to evade the rogues' efforts to subdue them. Dusty was one of these in the proposed third category, as few rogues would dare cross a cat who can call on other beasts to defend them.

This cat never featured in the Epic of the First Clan, but the Crone often made passing remarks of asking “the polyglot barn cat” to ask a trespassing badger or fox to leave. The jack's proper arrival to the Clans came after the Crone's death, whereupon Dusty joined WindClan and eventually became respected enough for Gray Wing to offer deputyship. Back then, every Clan encouraged learning to speak Fang, but as time wore on, only the Moorlanders' descendants still actively teach it, all thanks to a polyglot jack.

Moth Flight

There were many wonders and horrors she saw. A rabbit of starlight and his shadow in the moon. A lamb and a wolf that were neither lamb nor wolf. A bog in the lands where the sun sleeps. The dark. The long dark. The first spark of fire and the last breath of wind. The embrace of our Grandmother.
—From the Nightfall section of the Epic of the Crone's Lands

Considering their history, no one would have anticipated the ancestor of WindClan to produce the cat to discover the Mother. It is uncertain if she was born to the Pilgrims or to a local queen and took on a Pilgrim's name later in life. What is certain is her strange behavior that led her to wander the moorlands like a stain of moonlight, foregoing hunting in favor of naming every bug that she came across.

Her story says that as a nameless kitten, she followed a strange moth with wings of different colors who whispered poems of the future. The moth protected her from the eyes of sparrowhawks and the noses of foxes, all the way to Highstones. Upon finding the Mother's Maw, the moth perched on the kitten's head, urging her to delve into the ancient secrets of the world. Led by her heart and guided by her whiskers, the kitten found the Moonstone, illuminated by the full moon. Exhausted from her journey, she slept there, dreaming of uncountable and indescribable things to the mind of any breathing being, even humans.

When she was found, she was bestowed the name Moth—or Moth Flight, depending on who you ask. Her story from there on out is hazy, though some sections say she and the high quean Daisy Bloom clashed in an issue regarding kittens, separate from the issue involving the creation of Clan Law.

Chapter Text

THE MOTHER
Mirra

Impressive, isn't she?

Bigger than anything a Clan cat has seen, no matter where they come from. A true monster, a beast beyond our reckoning. Our progenitor. Our creator.

You stand before her mouth, between her paws. Her claws have long been sheathed since her war against the cruel titans of the early world, but you can see the edge of them from across the road, in her earthen toes that stand taller than even a human.

Approach. That feeling of awe and fear that tightens your chest is not unwarranted. This is a creature older than we can even imagine. She sleeps now, but she knows you’re here. There is no escaping that. Breathe slowly, and advance. Enter her mouth.

Dark, yes. Even a cat's eyes cannot serve their owner here. Walk forward. Your feet will know where to go.

You have time to reflect as you move. The stories of the Mother that you've heard as a kit are fluttering about in your head. There's the First Story, of course, telling of how she came to create the different animals of the world and destroy the beasts that inhabited the forest first. There are also those of her sending dreams to seers and their apprentices, incomprehensible to a mortal's eyes and ears and yet received with perfect clarity. Her voice is never audible, but it is heard. Her visage, her true face, hidden beneath the soil, is never visible, but it is seen.

Take a right here. You're getting close.

She's a curious being, the Mother. Always sleeping. You know, ShadowClan believes that her scales and horns on her back are a good burying site for their dead. The high stones are impenetrable, and other animals avoid them if they can. Most of them, anyway. Some say it's because of her connection to StarClan. It frightens them off.

Halt. Did you hear that? Did you feel it?

Yes. A faint breeze through the tunnels.

Do not tremble in fear. You are lucky to have borne witness to her breath.

Continue walking. Everything is well.

It's pitch-black, and it's cold, and it's frightening for an average warrior. Some actually flee this place when forced to enter. I cannot say I blame them. Neither can you. Even you are shaking, and certain you are lost.

You are not. I promise you that.

Ah, look. There's a faint light up ahead. No need to hurry, you'll get there soon.

What is the Mother, you wonder? She is called a monster sometimes, but you know true monsters. She is not one of them. Yet she is more than a simple folktale hero, more physical and literal than her children. It's possible there were more of her kind when she was awake, and yet we do not have any stories of them. What were they called? Did they even have a name?

Here you are. You emerge from the darkness and into her heart's chamber.

It's a massive white boulder… or at least it looks like a boulder. It is commonly referred to as the Moon Stone. As the night rises, you see why—Surīn’s eye sets this sacred heart ablaze. It reflects the moonlight so strongly that you are almost blinded.

It’s so quiet here, isn't it? So peaceful.

An eagle calls somewhere in the world. You jump in surprise.

Breathe. It's alright.

You’re safe here.

HOROA
The Lion

The youngest of the Three, Horoa is the god of justice, hunting, the daytime, and strength. The mightiest warriors are gathered by him personally to roam the territories and destroy all who pose a threat to mortal cats. To see him is one of the greatest honors a warrior can receive. Not that it's recommended to look directly into his face, of course. 

Horoa is a massive lion with shining, golden fur and a mane of dark smoke and ash. His face is often obscured by this mane because of his right eye, which is so bright that it can permanently blind a living mortal—usually by burning their eyeballs right out of their head. His left eyesocket is empty, as its former inhabitant is currently serving as the sun, watching over the Clans at all hours of the day and keeping track of any wraiths or monsters that must be dealt with. His tail is long and thin, with a dark flame burning at the end of it that can score the earth and cause a blazing fire wherever it touches the ground. 

The Endless Watcher is a source of comfort to the honorable and the worst nightmare of the malicious. He is always on the move, and usually hunting an evil entity. There is no escaping him forever; everything he targets, he will chase down in time, often sooner than later. He takes his role as a point of pride and leaps at the chance to exact justice. This can sometimes lead to him being reckless or temporarily duped into running in the wrong direction, but such events are very rare. How many cats, after all, have seen monsters or wraiths in the modern day? Horoa looks out for the Clans, never sleeping and never relenting until they are safe forever.

SURĪN
The Leopard

Surīn is the goddess of wisdom, the night, weather, and beauty. She has an association with solving tense and difficult situations with practical discussion, as she is the one to monitor Gatherings and send clouds over the moon when arguments arise. Along with this, her hall is devoted to letting the most intelligent cats in the afterlife gather together and discuss how to help the living in hard times. 

Surīn is difficult to get a concrete description of, partially because she tends towards shapeshifting when the desire arises. She is a giant leopard with spotted markings, that much is certain, but what those markings exactly are varies. Sometimes they are eyes whose gazes roam in every direction without seeming to focus on anything and yet perceive much. Sometimes they are rings of dark liquid that orbit a tiny, moon-white light. Other times still, they are just (admittedly hypnotizing) spots on her pelt, but in the wavy shape of roses, and so on. Even her pelt color changes from telling to telling, from white to gold to black. The only consistencies are her glowing, pure white eye and her empty right eyesocket. This last one is due to that eye hanging in the night sky as the moon. 

Despite her role being to assist the Clans, the Pathcarver is fairly distant with her charges. Her eye in the starlands closes regularly, as if she cannot be bothered to always watch mortals. She rarely appears in dreams and almost seems irritated in stories when a warrior approaches her, interrupting whatever business she was involved in before. She is practical and efficient, but with that comes a sense of disinterest in personal attachments and friendships. If she must be spoken to, it is best to keep the conversation quick and to the point. Wasting her time is a dangerous idea.

RROKHAR
The Tiger

The eldest of the Three is the most difficult to describe, not because there are disagreements about what he looks like, but because he's seen is such a vague and almost frightening light to mortal cats. As the god of dreams, the heavens, and the truth, he is found in the places “between”: dusk, dawn, Fourtrees, and other neutral grounds not ruled over by either of his siblings. He is most often felt existing in an aura around the Moon Stone, by seers just falling into their holy sleep. Accordingly, he is more of a sensation of emotion or feeling than a physical figure. However, there are a few things one could identify him by with a description.

Rrokhar is a giant, even compared to his massive siblings—so large, some say, that he could stretch out and cover the heavens with his body. He is colored like an early, warm morning with pitch night sky slashing through his pelt, forming stripes that dance and wave along his sides. There is no recorded description for his eyes, and perhaps there doesn't need to be; it's perfectly clear when the Twilight's gaze is upon you. 

Seers are the ones to most often interact with Rrokhar, but even this is incredibly rare. No one knows or remembers what his voice sounds like. To be visited by him is taken as a sign that something will happen that changes the course of all the Clans. This is because his hall is full of the best seers in the world, and they most often take on the task of speaking to the living when a very important message must be delivered. If Rrokhar himself appears to a mortal, it is very worthwhile to pay attention.

STARCLAN

“May StarClan light your path.”
—popular Clan farewell/blessing

Both a name for a location and the term for one of the groups the afterlife houses, StarClan ( Lunmir in the feline tongue) is a source of comfort for the living. Even cats who did not do anything spectacular in life have something wonderful waiting for them when they die (provided they did not commit any great crime). The land of StarClan reflects a much more beautiful version of the territories, and the air is pleasantly cool or comfortably warm depending on the season. It is never quite day or night, instead wavering between pale dawn and dim twilight. Prey, when one desires it, is abundant and more than happy to sit still and be caught and eaten.

Scattered around are starry pools that allow spirits to look into the world of the living or watch past events to gather information to deliver to seers (though it is difficult for the average soul and mostly consists of a twitch of a branch or a blurry, vague dream). StarClan is believed to have access to the cumulative knowledge of the past and present, with some claiming that they can also see the future—though most argue that they just have enough wisdom to predict the most likely outcome of a situation and share that prediction with their descendants. There is nothing new under the stars, after all. 

A singular StarClan cat is never truly alone; when one opens their mouth, they speak in a voice with the weight of thousands, and it often feels like there are countless eyes upon the dreamer contained within the gaze of a single cat. In the Mother, the holiest place in the territories, whispers echo in the tunnels and blend into each other as the moon rises to shine on the Moon Stone. The tensions and rivalries of the living Clans are forgotten as memories extend to the beginning of time and a fresh perspective on existence is presented to incoming spirits—mainly that happiness is so much more than securing prey and borders, and that there is no longer anything to fight for except for the continued existence of the Clans. 

Descriptions of StarClan members are pretty consistent: when seen, their pelts shine like the stars without casting a light on anything except the cat they're speaking with. This is felt as a faintly warming glow, providing a comfort like a kit curling up against its mother's belly. They seem both brighter and paler than they were when alive, and whatever caused them pain or grief, such as the injury that killed them or a crippled limb that made it extremely difficult to move around, is healed to their comfort. Some choose to keep a twisted foot or something similar, while others are as they were as a young cat, free of damage. Age is another factor: cats that died as an elder have been reported to appear as an apprentice, at the point in time that they were at their happiest. The opposite is also true, with kittens that died early growing to become warriors. Whatever puts them at the most amount of comfort, they will assume as their form.

THE HALLS

Thul/Þul (literally, “exceptional collective”, rendered poetically as “hall”)

Occasionally, there are cats who were exceptional in some aspect of their lives that join the ranks of the dead in the hereafter. Perhaps they were a brilliant tactician, or a leader that propelled their Clan to greatness that will last for generations, or a fierce devotee to justice. In some way, they have caught the attention of one of the Three, and when they pass on they are invited to join their ranks to serve a higher purpose: ensuring the safety and longevity of the living Clans, protecting them from whatever dangers may approach them uninvited. 

There are a trio of halls a cat may be welcome into.

HALL OF THE LEOPARD
(Lethep/Leþep, “Leopard's council”, or Lepthul/Lepþul, “Leopard's hall”)

An entourage of elegant spirits with the wisdom of the world in their eyes gathers around Surīn, who seeks out only the craftiest, sharpest, and most intelligent cats for her council. This hall focuses on finding solutions to problems that are beyond the grasp of the average cat, such as preserving the complex ecosystem of prey that keeps the living fed. It's said by some that these cats are almost as genius as Thlainra, though no one seems eager to step on the Crowmother’s toes by insinuating that any mortal cat is truly on her level.

The Hall of the Leopard has a small but beautiful territory comprised of a cozy forest with many large, smooth stones covered in the softest moss in the world. There are enough clearings to almost not warrant calling this place a forest at all, in which streams interconnect into pools large enough for Surīn to dip into and swim through, when she has the inclination. These pools have circles of that smooth stone around them where the council rests and talks over their latest conundrum… or just gossip about their descendants and whatever forbidden relationship is happening now.

HALL OF THE LION
(Rotala, “Lion's hunters”, or Rotathul/Rotaþul, “Lion's hall”)

Horoa's agents are chosen for their speed, strength, and strong sense of morality. This is because they are the hall that protects the living by chasing down and destroying what evils plague the territories: wraiths, monsters, and rogues that have just died and are attempting to flee their justice. Horoa leads the hunt in the daylight, his eye shining down and burning away the mist that so many spirits hide within, allowing the warriors worthy of fables to track their quarries and deliver a forceful departure from this plane of existence. 

This hall does not really have a land of its own, since its members are always on the move, but they are welcomed into any of the territories in the heavens. It's said that they bring a bright light with them that shines with merriment and stirs an eagerness to race and hunt in the hearts of the average StarClan cat. Some say they once had a land—a rolling moor with stark golden grass and the occasional tree to rest in—but it was used so rarely that it eventually faded away from memory and left its inhabitants to wander forever. 

HALL OF THE TIGER
(Kuthech/Kuþech, “Tiger's seers”, or Kuthul/Kuþul, “Tiger's hall”)

Finally, Rrokhar's disciples: the interpreters of their master's words, which are never said aloud but understood intrinsically by the most legendary seers the territories have ever seen. Cats who could interpret StarClan flawlessly, and from the most minute signs possible; seers of no equal who are the primary collective gone to when StarClan is in need of a powerful dream sent to the seers of the modern day. They are a quiet and mysterious lot to even the other halls, and they are given their due respect when they pass by. It is very difficult to speak for and to the Tiger, after all, and those that can are worthy of awe. 

The land this hall resides in is intensely strange, with even the air being overwhelming. Scents one can't identify by name but know well circle in the breeze, and the sky seems striped with the glow of the morning sun and the pitch black of the night sky. Trees grow thickly together, with their roots arching out of the ground and looping around, allowing cats to pass under them. It is almost like going through a spider's web made of plant life. Strangely, the sky is always exposed, even when at a first glance the trees' boughs should block it from sight.

LONMET
(Literally, “empty spirits”, essentially meaning “ghosts”)

The truth is, not everyone goes to StarClan immediately. It takes a moment to recognize that you've died, and for some, it takes a great deal longer to accept it. The afterlife in the skies is a place of peace and contentment and previously impossible friendships. Everyone knows that, and when your time comes, you are usually happy to move on and join the ranks of your loved ones. Regrets and painful emotions are still there, of course, but they fade away very quickly when the threats of agony and death are gone.

But there are those, unfortunately, who cannot quite let go of what happened to them. Trauma and fear are reluctant to release their grips, and sometimes a soul, thinking that it's gotten away from the teeth of another predator, simply keeps running until it's so far away from its body that it's lost in another territory. Others stand just before the land of StarClan, trembling and anxious because of something that's paralyzed them and left them unable to speak. 

For these spirits, the lost and the scared, there is a sort of “nursery”, for lack of a better term, that they are brought to. Like a kit, they are enveloped in the sensations of warmth, dim light, and complete safety; it's known instinctually that nothing can get you here—not now, not ever. It's never quite been described what this place looks like, but it's understood that a spirit can reside there for as long as they need until their pain and horrible memories are at the very least softened enough for them to move on to StarClan properly. 

The trouble is that some of those runaway souls—and, worse, some willing waywards—do not show interest in going even to this place. Some hear the cries of their Clanmates, and some pause to listen to the stories their friends sadly tell over their body, and this somehow does not help them understand that their time on earth is over, that it's time to move on to peaceful eternity. 

These souls are the lonmet, and they are a puzzle to the common warrior. Why they would not go to StarClan, why they choose to wander away beyond the territories, is completely incomprehensible. Everyone knows that unless a spirit goes to StarClan, they run the risk of being forgotten and fading away forever as soon as the people that knew them die themselves. Wouldn't it be smarter and safer to just head up to the stars? 

Of course it would. But that doesn't seem to change the mind of a lonmet . They simply continue on, walking on translucent feet to some place far away. There's really no point following after them or trying to convince them to go where they must. At the very least, the majority don't stay to haunt the territories. Those that do…

The ones that do always, and forever, become wraiths.

WRAITHS

There are souls that, when they leave their body, do not move on. They do not run for StarClan to nestle in its pseudo-nursery to heal their mental wounds. They do not wander away, bursting with curiosity for the world they never got to explore alive. Someone may come for them, but the beckoning call goes unanswered.

There are souls whose grief, or self-loathing, or fear of what comes next encloses around their ethereal form, squeezing vice-tight and refusing to let go. Perhaps it comes in the form of an agonizing weight that makes the ghost fight with everything they have just to keep walking. Sometimes one imagines a predator chasing after them, comprised of trauma or rage, always hidden from view but close enough to be felt staring at one's back and licking its chops.

However it comes about, however it shows itself, this trap of unhappiness can distort and curdle a soul. It takes away all positive feelings and any semblance of hope for relief is not to be experienced again. These souls forget everything good that ever happened to them, until all they truly are is an amalgamation of bad experiences and emotions in the vague form of a cat. These are known widely as “wraiths”.

These souls have nothing to offer—not like StarClan does. Rather, they are more of a vacuum to any living feline, pulling them in with screams of despair and freezing their heartbeats by whispering all that happened to the wraith in their life, and all they know in their death. In their attempts to grasp for any source of happiness, wraiths succeed only in stopping pulses and sending another soul fleeing in terror. Or, perhaps, sagging onto the ground and waiting for something to take them out of existence entirely.

Horoa's hunters are vital because of these poor things. Wraiths are not always innocent—in fact, they rarely aren't paying for something they did in life—and even if they are, they are not much more than a danger to the living. Horoa and his followers spend a great deal of their time chasing down as many wraiths as they can, cornering them and ending their existences with a slash. And sometimes an apology.

No one knows what can be done otherwise for these souls. There's never been a good solution a living cat could invent and put into practice, and Horoa has never been able to calm one into being restored to their original self. Perhaps nothing is possible. Perhaps no one's looked in the right place yet.

For now, all the living can do is look away, and pay no mind to their cries.

Funny how one can be terrified and yet full of pity at once.

CROWS

It's there, a big black bird cocking its head side-to-side as it inspects a snail shell. The clearing is empty save for it and the object of interest. Just outside the ring of tall, coarse grass that encircles this little landform raised above the web of streams, Minnowpaw crouches, keeping every hair and muscle perfectly still. 

It's her first day of hunting on her own. Her mentor has told her that they would be watching from afar, but for all intents and purposes, she is the only cat in the world right now. The marsh's tall grass shifts as a faint spring breeze whispers a little song on its way north. A few mosquitoes whine and dab at the water below. There is nothing else but the apprentice and her quarry. 

Minnowpaw sizes up the leap she needs to make. It's not too far—one good jump with no warning would take her over the bird's head. It seems entirely unaware of her. A careful balance between a lunge and a spring. She can do this.

She tenses, barely allows her haunches to wriggle, and leaps.

She is knocked aside mid-air and thrown left onto the ground, rolling twice and ending up on her side, the breath punched out of her chest. She looks up and sees her mentor standing over her, glaring her down. 

“What's the matter with you?” they hiss. “What did I tell you?”

Minnowpaw doesn't have the air to respond. She coughs and looks around for her prey. The bird has not moved a single step. It seems to mock her, cocking its head and staring at her with those shiny black eyes that give away nothing. 

“I…” Minnowpaw manages, after several heartbeats, to allow her breath to come back. “It's right… there. Catch it—”

“It's a crow, child,” the tortoiseshell growls. “I told you not to touch the crows.”

Minnowpaw, a little insulted, shoots a glare right back at her mentor. “It's a… a black bird. There's… lots here, Newtwhisker.” 

Newtwhisker looks to be ready to snap again, but they raise their head, shut their eyes, and sigh. When they look down, they're much calmer. “The shrewd black birds, we are not to hunt.” 

They step back and allow Minnowpaw, still breathing a little shallowly, to get to her feet. The crow has still not moved. In fact, it's rather cocky in the way it shuffles its wings, like it has more important business than listening to an apprentice get scolded, but is confident enough in its security to just stand there and do nothing about the cats that are several steps away from ending its life with a bite to the neck.

Minnowpaw gives it a dirty look. “Why not crows? That one could feed two queens.”

Newtwhisker, to their credit, stays cool. “Would you kill another cat?” 

“No!” Minnowpaw whips her head around to stare at her mentor in shock. “Of course not!”

“Then you mustn't touch a crow.” Newtwhisker nods to the bird. “They're just as intelligent as we are. WindClan speaks with them all the time, with those other predators. It would be wrong to harm something that can speak like us.”

Minnowpaw blinks, then frowns. “But what about mice?”

“A mouse is a mouse,” Newtwhisker says flippantly. “You know the things are stupid. But a crow is different. It can think. Besides, they serve Thlainra. Don't you remember the stories from the nursery?” 

Minnowpaw remembers. Her mother had warned her to behave, otherwise Thlainra's servants would come to peck her eyes out. She had imagined a much bigger and more frightening looking creature than the aloof crow pecking absentmindedly at the snail shell, half-watching her. She wonders if it's enjoying this argument.

“It's very bad luck to kill a crow, Minnowpaw,” Newtwhisker continues. “They've served us by helping Mernaþa protect our home. They can speak to us, you know, even in our tongue. They're honored here, child. We don’t hunt them until we have nothing left to eat. Understand?” 

Minnowpaw scowls at the crow. It tips its head slightly to the side and gives one small nod, like it means to be respectful. Then it picks up the shell in its beak and flies off noisily, leaving her and Newtwhisker alone in the clearing.

“Fine,” Minnowpaw mutters. “I understand.”

THLAINRA
Literally translated as “thousand crow”. Alternative spelling is Þlainra.

There are many titles for her. Crowmother. Black Swarm. Emissary of Twilight. It doesn't matter what you call her. Even names made up on the spot will be heard. Never fear. She responds to them all. 

Descriptions for Thlainra are rather nervously given: she is a pure black cat with equally dark eyes that reflect no light. Her fur is stiff and feather-like, especially around where a tail would normally be, which has been replaced with something like a crow's fan. It can occasionally catch the light and give off a dull sheen, but often it's difficult to see her properly, even in bright sunlight. Some have said that bright yellow eyes flicker open and closed on her body, but this is not confirmed to be true. 

She does not move from her sitting position opposite the mortal she is speaking with, nor does she open her mouth to talk. Instead, she is surrounded by many, many crows who speak for her, all in the same voice and all with the same coldly intelligent look in their eyes. They will converse flatly and calmly before disappearing in a flurry of black wings and caws, Thlainra gone with them. It is believed that all crows are under her command and protection, so they are avoided as prey for as long as possible until there is no other animal to catch and eat. 

Thlainra is, without question, the most brilliant of the figures in Clan mythology. Things even Surīn cannot completely understand are hardly worth her time. Like the crows that surround her, Thlainra seems to solve problems and find answers to impossible trials like magic. Despite this, she rarely steps in to assist the Clans, allowing them to overcome their troubles themselves, except when a solution cannot be found by normal means.

It's believed that she is a direct servant to Rrokhar, acting as his mouth and eyes or collecting cats to join his hall. In some myths, she is also said to find the souls of the dead who have not moved on to StarClan yet and point them to the way to heaven. Queens do sometimes warn their children that if they do something cruel, Thlainra will send a crow to pluck out their eyes as punishment. Whether any of this is true or not is a matter of debate between warriors. No one is bold enough to ask her themselves.

TITANS
Ngothorr/Ŋoþorr

Giants; scaled monstrosities; beasts of nature that were old long before the Mother created life as the cats know it. There are none left among the Clans—the Mother took care to ensure that—but they are terrifying enough to a warrior that everyone knows of them and fears their return. 

Titans are best compared to moving pieces of land. With rock-scales and eyes like reflections of light in a muddy pool, every step they take shakes soil off their bodies, and the wind carries away dust and leaves from their backs. Trees, shrubs, and all manner of grass and weeds cling strongly to them, though nothing of flesh would dare to live on them. 

It's been such a long time since one has been spotted that their behavior is a vague combination of generally evil traits to the Clans, without a concrete idea of what one would truly act like should it come to the territories. What's certain is that the Mother had to eliminate many of them before she could sleep because of the paths of destruction they carved and the countless animal colonies they decimated for no clear reason. It's thought that they do not need to eat, but like to kill anything they find regardless. 

Scholars, hearing the descriptions of these titans, would liken their appearance and size to the Mother, and they would be swiftly shouted down by even the stoic WindClan. The Mother is a giver of life and the reason the territories are safe. To even think of comparing her to monsters like these is blasphemy.

Chapter Text

Leader

The top of the top, equal to no one but those of this rank, named for their power with the -star suffix.

Leaders are the head and face of a Clan, responsible for the lives of every single one of their Clanmates and every decision their community makes. While the code states that leaders can be rebelled against or demoted, it is a rare situation in practice that leads to anyone leaving the position by any means other than death. It is vital to a Clan that their leadership be presentable as wise and noble and confident; open defiance will not look good to their neighbors at the next Gathering.

While it'd be ridiculous to say that every leader is exactly the same, there are common traits one looks for in a -star: intelligence, an even temperament, practicality, confidence, and assertiveness. No leader is perfect, and will rarely have all of these traits together. But even just being emotionally intelligent and calm, while suffering from a lack of confidence, is better than being completely bereft of any virtues. There are, of course, many types of cat, and many have been middling in leadership only to fade in the memories of their descendants, while the best are few and far between, but remembered for ages to come. It is no accident that the greatest leaders are often recruited into one of the halls after death.

A leader is under an intense pressure at all times—every move must be carefully considered, every ceremony's script must be memorized with every new warrior's name fitting them perfectly, every conflict must be managed with a delicate but firm paw, and so on. They have the automatic respect of the Clans, who only vaguely can understand exactly how hard a leader must work just to be seen as acceptable. It's no surprise that leaders regularly seek advice from their elders, seers, and matriarchs, their deputies standing close by to listen and offer their own words.

An aspect of leadership that one does not often consider is its loneliness. Many leaders have a weight in their chest that is impossible to share with others in a meaningful way. Leaders often do not interact with anyone but other leaders at Gatherings, both out of tradition and due to average warriors and apprentices being too intimidated to initiate conversation. Leaders rarely are able to slow down and raise a litter of kittens (or even interact with them past initial kithood if they do), and even their relationships with their mates suffer under the strain of duty. Friends are often distant now that their buddy has made it into a position with such power over everyone else, apprentices are best given to someone else to train, and the average Clanmate instinctively gives the leader space and silence so they may think over the current situation, whatever it may be. A leader has to work doubly hard just to have companions. It is not an enviable place to be.

Deputy

The second-in-command, deputies are defined by their relationship to their leader. They are their immediate servant, future replacement, and the link between a leader and their warrior Clanmates. If a leader is the brain and skull of a Clan, then a deputy is the spinal cord, connecting them to the rest of the body, and presenting just as much danger when poorly aligned, broken, or missing.

Deputies share a certain level in power with matriarchs and seers—that is, the three of them would be deferred to with the same amount of respect and subservience, if admittedly in different topics. Leaders continue to be isolated by their position above this trio, but their deputy tends to be the one they talk to the most. Deputies are almost more important for the leader than the rest of the Clan, in an odd way. Having someone to help hold the weight of responsibility is good for one's mental health.

The training for a deputy is essential, because they are the hope of a Clan for a happy, peaceful future. To ensure this, a deputy must develop the traits a leader has emphatically and with speed, and must display an aptitude for those traits even as a younger warrior: intelligence, problem-solving skills, respect for and from their Clanmates, a firm hand, and—of course—a great sense of responsibility. It's no coincidence that a law exists stating that a warrior must have successfully mentored an apprentice to warriorhood before being considered for the position; there is no better way to judge a cat's potential and talent than watching them handle the trials raising a young cat provides. For that reason, it's very rare that a cat younger than three or four years old becomes a deputy with the Clan's approval.

Deputies have a repeating pattern in their tenure, starting with relying on their leader's every command, gradually making choices without consulting the leader, and growing more and more in authority until, by the time their senior is near the end of their reign, they might as well be a leader, simply missing the -star suffix. This is a natural evolution of the position, so by the time the leader dies or retires, the transition between authority figures is quick, easy, and non-disruptive to the Clan.

Of course, drama has been incited before, whether a leader switches deputies at the last minute, or dies before naming one, or chooses an unpopular and poorly-matched successor. It's not always a perfect system. But perhaps those are stories for another day.

Seer

Cats, as a whole, can be a superstitiously nervous lot. Much as they try to pass themselves off as logical and aloof, even the most cynical of strays have at least one little thing they can't quite dismiss that they hope won't come after them if they recite a charm or make a gesture with their tail every time it gets dark. This extends into their afterlives; every cat and group has a different idea of how their being dead will work, what trick to do to score a good ghostly residence, and then wonder why they can never seem to find a soul in the heavens who can tell them what they're heading for. All they can do is hope that they're good enough or impressive enough in life that whatever arbitrary rule the afterlife has lets their heart outweigh the feather, and they can prance into the unknown, good times and all ahead.

Clans, of course, don't have that problem of uncertainty. After all, they have seers.

A seer's main job is to be the eyes, ears, and mouth of StarClan. They will be the middle man of communication between the living Clans and their ancestors above them, seeking guidance or delivering judgement as needed. Almost all of them double-time as visitors to the nursery, foretelling the futures of the queens' kits or offering names that may be good luck in hard times. As well as this, they are tasked with remembering the entirety of the warrior code, even the most obscure of rules. They are part of the quartet of power in the Clans, together with the leaders, deputies, and matriarchs. Highly respected by all sensible warriors, they can give a command (usually phrased as a suggestion) and expect it to be obeyed. 

Seerhood tends to draw in the stranger characters that can be found in a Clan: the loopy, cloud-headed, dreaming, unnervingly calm, and often neurodivergent in some manner. It's said that StarClan takes care of everyone as they need to be cared for, and it rings true here. Often, these cats don't like to fight or hunt (which some consider as laziness if they're going with surface-level analysis), or have a detriment in some manner, such as being frail or mentally ill. The stereotype is that StarClan just shoves the differently abled into seerhood to get them out of the way, and it is strange that this rank has the most of them. However, there's rarely not multiple things going on that also make them good for the seer business. They can be sharp-eyed or have an incredible memory, both of which are perfect for someone who needs to catch every little sign from StarClan that they can. 

And it should be stated that being a seer does not mean you have an easy life. Everyone knows that ShadowClan seers tend to live shorter lives due to the stress put on them, just as an example. You are expected to be out in the territory or in a state of meditation, constantly searching for a broken twig or whisper on the wind for anything that StarClan wants you to know. You are not allowed to learn to fight or hunt, and you cannot have a mate or children. All of these distract you from your work, after all, and you need to be as focused on the immaterial as possible. Cats also tend to be wary of you, some even avoiding you if you're one of the odder seers carrying unnerving energy. You must have a guard with you if you step out of your border in case something attacks you, or someone needs to feed you, basic tasks that even an apprentice feels pathetic for needing help on. On top of that, high intelligence is very valuable, and you must be good enough to remember the warrior code in its entirety. It's pressure all around, and most cats can't hack it.

Now, there are benefits as well. Because seers don't fight or hunt or desire a mate, they are considered completely harmless, almost as harmless as a newborn kit. They therefore have a lot of access to things other cats do not have, such as the nursery (whereas no one else can visit except sparingly to see their children). They merely need to identify themselves to a rival Clan patrol to be invited to wander their territory after a sign they thought they saw and need to follow. No cat is allowed to harm them—in fact, doing so is a severe crime and can lead to heavy punishment, nevermind if they actually murder the seer. If a seer does their job as well as they can and does not seek to harm anyone, they are promised a place in StarClan for all their work. And, as said, seers are highly respected, enough to warrant being a figure of authority in the Clans. 

Overall, seers have their ups and downs, but they are a valued resource. StarClan loves their descendants, and it takes a special cat to make sure the living stay in contact with them. If they aren't, then a Clan will know what it's like to grope in the dark, seeking any assurance that things will be okay.

Matriarch

In most casual feline colonies, the group consists of multiple queens with their kittens. Colonies are generally led by a queen or older molly, tasked with deciding which cats are a risk to keep in the fold and ensuring the safety of the little ones running around by chasing those risk factors out. There are not many colonies like the Clans, which are strictly regimented and have detailed tasks and lifestyles determined for each rank. Some would think that with an actual lawful leader and deputy in charge, there's no need for a head of the mother population. 

They would be wrong. 

The matriarch has multiple tasks: in exchange for permanent access to the nursery and the lives within, she will stand as guard to the entrance, act as a midwife for the mothers, and help keep track of the cats that have fathered a litter already, not including the litters that didn't make it to adulthood. These cats are usually strictly interested in raising kits or the quiet, sweet community that exists within that comfy den, so this is a very good bargain, even if they don't get to leave camp very often. 

There seems to be a repeating pattern in cats that fit the matriarch model. They are generally fairly large for their Clan's size, have the -flower suffix (-cloud cats are also common candidates, but not always, for a reason that will be stated in a moment), and are expected to have a litter of their own or already have before being assigned to the role. Barren but maternal cats are not entirely rare as matriarch, since they can help raise the litters, even if they're not their own—this is usually the life path for those mollies named -flower who later learn they cannot have kits and don't want to change their name. These cats are easy to spot, even as apprentices; often, they will volunteer to guard the nursery for a day so the current matriarch can leave camp to hunt or patrol. These apprentices are talked with towards the end of their training to see if they're willing to take on the role themselves once they're named.

It is very well known that queens are dangerous when scared. It's even better known that a matriarch is the nightmare all warriors dread facing in a battle. Matriarchs are not always fantastic fighters, but they don't need to be. There's a unique kind of fury and strength within them that some think is gifted to them by StarClan once they are appointed that will serve them and their charges to the end of their life. A matriarch will happily die fighting for the safety of the nursery, which is why camps are almost always left alone in wars between Clans. It saves the invaders at least three lives.

Warrior

The standard member of a Clan. From birth, it is expected that one will become a warrior, and it's a pleasant surprise to specialize in anything else. There are more cats in this rank than any other—usually somewhere well into the twenties, though this number may rise or fall dramatically depending on the current time and environment the Clan is facing.

Warriors have many tasks: hunting and bringing home prey, patrolling the borders of their territory and marking to ensure strangers do not cross them on accident, fighting whatever invader or enemy dares to trouble their community, educating the young cats of their Clan (called “apprentices”, with their teachers being “mentors”) on how to mature and develop the skills necessary to serve their Clan, and protecting the members of the Clan who cannot defend themselves, such as elders, seers and kits. There is much for a warrior to do night-to-night, even in peaceful times. Staying home all night to lounge around, eat prey and gossip is a rare treat. Even a warrior not assigned to a patrol is expected to go outside on their own and try to find something to bring home and feed the elders with.

Community is strongest within this rank. As the biggest muscle of the Clan system, and the majority of its members, warriors must forge bonds and feel free to speak honestly with their fellows if the harmony of Clan life is to be maintained. Much more often than not, warriors share a kinship with other warriors of all ages—near-elder to newly-named—as they work together to protect and feed their family and friends. One can expect to see friendships develop between cats of similar ages, who likely trained together as apprentices, but seven-year-old seniors have been close with two-year-old youths before, and it’s not considered unusual.

The thing everyone in authority—leader, elder, deputy, seer and matriarch—must remember is that this community, even when split or threatening to become so, vastly outnumbers them, and stirring them to action against whoever they agree is the root of a problem will always lead to disaster for that root. Warriors, when push comes to shove, can and will unite, and there is nothing a cruel leader or malicious matriarch can do except pray for mercy.

Apprentice

When a kitten reaches six months of age, or half a year, they are old enough to leave the -kit suffix behind them and gain -paw instead, labeling them as a student of the Clans’ way of life. They will then spend around half a year (sometimes more or less) training under a selected teacher, called a “mentor”, and learn how to perform their future adult duties with skill and patience, before earning their next and (usually) final suffix to denote that they have matured into a grown-up.

The apprentice rank is the most flexible in the Clan system; one can train to be a warrior, seer, or matriarch, and even within simple warrior's training can specialize in any specific skill—or multiple—and earn a suffix based off of that. Apprentices are carefully monitored by their mentor and the leader of the Clan to judge what they will be called in the future as an adult in order to make their name as accurate as possible to their talents, personality, or simple appearance. Those who have multiple options for a suffix are a regular occurrence, and the first adult choice many of them make is what their name will be when the leader consults with them on their preferences.

It is of intense importance to the Clans that an apprentice receives the best training they can, tailored to their personality and passions. Therefore, each mentor ought to be spoken with ahead of time to request their service in teaching, and the mentor-apprentice pair must be a good match—for example, a timid apprentice being paired with a calm, patient mentor, or a young cat with an attitude being given to a warrior who they respect and are more likely to listen to. It's not rare that a mentor will be related to the apprentice in some way, but the Clan considers it ideal to have the two not be family at all. It's believed to teach the apprentice to find value in interacting with their Clanmates and supporting them even without a blood-connection. The Clan is a family, after all, and there is no better time to get that in a cat's head than at their most impressionable age.

Queens

A temporary rank whose individuals' tenures last for about seven months, queens are the pregnant, nursing, and nurturing mothers of the Clans. They are given the highest priority in emergencies and times of great hunger, and they are the rank that is almost expected to kill someone in a fight and promised to get away with no punishment. There is a lot of liberty in being a queen, while simultaneously being confined to one den, and later the orbit around that den.

The reason for such intense care and freedom for queens is that pregnancy and kit-raising is a very stressful event for pretty much every cat who comes through the nursery (the den every Clan has for certain, no matter how the rest of their camp is laid out). Queens are known to be high-strung, anxious, violently protective, and extremely wary of everyone around them, even their mates and families. This is why matriarchs are so incredibly important to ensure the physical and emotional safety of everyone, but especially queens; knowing for certain that you have a protector and safe source of comfort and love eases most queens down from the ledge, so to speak, when they're most afraid of the outside world.

This fear is not entirely baseless—the legend goes that cats, especially feral newcomers, have been known to kill the kits someone else has fathered so they can claim the queen and produce their own kits with her. This instinct has been bred out of the Clans for many generations—or so they hope—but like an appendix, evolution did not rid mollies of the fear of that instinct, no matter how little it needs to be used. All Clans have an instated rule (not within the code, just a cultural agreement) that the only non-mothers allowed into the nursery are seers, the biological parents of a litter, and female leaders or deputies (which comes in use when it is the deputy or leader that is currently raising kittens). This rule can very easily and agreeably be accused of bias against physically male cats, and it has in the past, but it is one of those things a Clan will not budge on, specifically because of the worry that the old killing instinct will flare up again and chaos and death will ensue. To the Clans, it's better safe than sorry, unfair though it is.

Another cultural belief is that queens should only have one litter in their lifetimes, provided their kits grow up to be warriors and are able to produce litters of their own. This is due to the Clans' intense efforts to keep the gene pool of their community clean, and the family trees as untangled as possible. A queen is welcome to have a second litter if she has no viable way to keep her line going (if her kits die childless or are in positions that will not allow them to have a family), but it is very heavily encouraged for her to keep her family small and tidy.

Kittens

Both the lowest rank in power and the highest rank in value, kits are, appropriately, the children of the Clans. A kit is any cat younger than six months old who lives in the nursery with their mother, labeled, again with some obviousness, with the suffix -kit.

Kits are heavily protected by the law, their family, and their Clanmates. A kitten is believed to be innocent by default—they did not decide how and why they were born, who they are or where they come from. A mother who is neglectful, or a father who is not of their Clan, does not declare a kitten to be a crime or a tragedy. Any step will be taken in the name of securing their safety and happiness. It is completely illegal to harm a kit, whether striking a blow or screaming insults at them, and punishment can and will be severe.

Kittens spend the first month of their life in the nursery, waiting for their ears and eyes to open. Once they're old enough to walk more than a few steps, they are escorted outside to the rest of camp and get to meet their older Clanmates. This is always something to celebrate; it means that the litter has survived the most dangerous point of their lives and are safe to interact with.

An unfortunate aspect of Clan life is that a litter, especially a large one, often loses at least one kitten before a month has passed. How this happens can be sickness, general weakness, a side-effect of something bad that happened when the queen was pregnant, and so on. It's believed that the main reason this happens with such regularity is that StarClan is taking effort to trim down the numbers of a family tree (something the Clans are very obsessed with keeping tidy). Kits, especially newborns, are said to be reincarnated into a different litter, perhaps even a different Clan, to get another try at life. There has been a tale, whispered more than once outside of the nursery, of a kit who has been reincarnated over and over, in countless lifetimes, and never survived past a month. Whether that's true or not remains to be seen.

Elders

Appropriately named, elders are the retired seniors of the Clans, being the lucky few who survived to old age and get to luxuriate in staying at home, eating without hunting and telling stories about the good old days and the mighty heroes while kits sit and stare in awe.

A cat is eligible to become an elder at nine years of age, though not all choose to retire then. Given how many ways there are to die before then, an elder has automatic respect for being who they are. Those who don't retire are considered a little silly for their decision. After all, cats age faster in a stressful, dangerous world like the territories. A nine-year-old kittypet is barely hitting senior years and can still play with toys. A nine-year-old warrior is stiff, slow and likely permanently wounded by something in their past. Not retiring is almost ridiculous.

Where kits represent the future of the Clans, elders represent the past, and as such are among the first to be given prey at all times. An elder has worked nonstop all their life to feed everyone else, including the elders of their youth. In a warrior's mind, they naturally deserve to sit back and relax while the young and healthy bring them food and clean their nests. It's why an apprentice's duties so often revolve around working for the elders: it teaches them that taking care of the cats who fed you in your kithood is the least you could do to give thanks to their sacrifices of physical health.

Elders do serve one last purpose, though: they are the voices of counsel to a leader and deputy. Their life experiences and calmer dispositions mean that they often can think of a solution that a younger leader wouldn't have even considered. Their wisdom has saved many a Clan from struggles like starvation, potential war, and political drama.

Chapter Text

SECTION I: LOYALTY

• A warrior is loyal to their Clan above all else; the Clan's members come before oneself, and to die for one's Clan is an honor.

  • A Clan's culture becoming dangerous for everyone to exist in, that threatens the safety and lives of its members, still calls for individuals to serve their friends and family in whatever way will keep them safe and positively alter the Clan's current climate.

  • In the event that one wishes to transfer from one Clan to another, the same loyalty will be expected in their new community. One cannot be expected to forget their family and friends, but the individual's new Clan takes priority.

• Having a mate outside of the Clan, such as an outsider or member of a neighboring Clan, is forbidden. Friends and acquaintances are acceptable at all times, but romantic relationships are to be composed of Clanmates.

  • In the event that a queen's litter has no obvious or named father, she is not under any obligation to reveal the father's name or where he may come from. To harry her on the subject is an invitation for punishment.

• Those in authority are to be listened to and respected, and are highest on the decision-making ladder. However, they themselves are not exempt from any part of the code at any time. This will be elaborated on in the Leaders and Deputies sections of the code.

• The code is the backbone of the Clans, and must be followed for as long as is sensible.

  • Changes to the code are allowed at any time, provided they serve to benefit the Clans—all of them—and are considered to be fair and morally correct by a majority vote.

• When sworn into a Clan, newcomers and natives alike reject kittypet business, including their food, their humans, and the cutter. 

  • There are two exceptions here: the first being when a cat must be moved for their own safety into a kittypet house, and the second being when times have become desperate enough to require warriors to steal food from humans. In the case of the second, the food is to be taken as well as it can be to the queens, kits, and elders first.

SECTION II: HUNTING

• Prey is to be caught in an individual's native territory or on neutral grounds. Stealing from another Clan is strictly forbidden at all times.

  • Prey may be given over to another Clan, provided it has been caught following this primary law.

  • If prey is chased over the border, the hunter has four body-lengths past the border's line to catch it before they have to give up the prey as belonging to the other Clan.

• Prey of all kinds may be caught by all the Clans. No one Clan can claim ownership of a specific type of prey or a specific hunting style, such as fishing or climbing trees.

• Diseased or rotting prey is to be disposed of by burial or dropping it off outside of the border on neutral grounds to prevent sickness.

  • Leaving sick prey (or chasing it when alive) over another Clan's border is punishable by nine days of apprentice duties when done by an individual. If an entire Clan is doing it, they are to be treated with hostility and unacknowledged at Gatherings until they have addressed the issue and apologized for it, or paid back their neighbors with healthy prey.

• The Clan as a whole must work to preserve prey for the sake of survival in the future. As such, a warrior should not hunt anything more than the Clan needs per day.

• Neutral grounds are open to every Clan to hunt in. Banning one Clan from hunting there, especially in times of hunger, is explicitly forbidden.

  • While not a requirement, it is very heavily recommended that Clans avoid the neutral grounds for hunting until absolutely required in order to feed the community.

• In the event that food is especially difficult to find, hunting in the Aulmir, the Houses, or past one's borders in land that is not already claimed by a Clan is permissible.

SECTION III: TERRITORY

Listed below are the exact territories and borders of the four Clans.

• THUNDERCLAN: The entire forest that stands next to the Houses and where the fences of human homes begin. The borders are lined by the stream that goes underneath the road and leads into the river, the edges of the forest at the bottom of the known territories, the firm line of the fences of the Houses, and the road splitting the forest and the marshes.
• RIVERCLAN: The entire river in the north and the flatland pastures that are separated by the water from the rest of the territories. Borders are, of course, the river itself, including the Gorge, and the pathway humans walk upon to visit the Clan. Note: Despite claims of Sunningrocks belonging to one Clan or another, these are, by law, considered neutral grounds. It is noted in this category because RiverClan in particular is very vocal about the land being theirs.
• WINDCLAN: The moors in the east, closest to the sunrise and across from the Mother, neighbored by the Barn. The borders are the Gorge, the hedges marking separation from the wild and the farmland farthest east, the road separating WindClan from the Mother, and the place the land evens out to become the neutral grounds.
• SHADOWCLAN: The entire marshes in the south. The only stated borders are the road separating ShadowClan from the rest of the territories and the Mother. ShadowClan has access to as much of the marsh as they can travel, as well as allowances made in the Aulmir for food.
• NEUTRAL GROUNDS: The strip of land known as Sunningrocks, the flatland surrounding Fourtrees, and the Mother. These grounds are not to be fought over or claimed as belonging to one Clan or another at any time.

Further rules below:

• Cats are allowed to cross four body lengths over the border to another Clan's territory on the single grounds that they're chasing prey and are close to catching it. Once that distance is crossed, the prey becomes part of the other territory and the cat must return to their own border as quickly as possible.

• When waiting for a patrol or specific cat to come by the border for a request, meeting or other purpose, a warrior should sit just inside their own territory and not make a move past the line. Calling for someone's attention is preferable to stepping over the border to make oneself known, if they've escaped attention.

• Any contention over where one territory ends and another begins should be discussed at a Gathering, where the other Clans can give their input. Battles are to be a last resort.

• Intrusion on a territory (that is, wandering past those four body lengths with no prey in sight) can be dealt with by violence or aggression, especially if it’s a repeated instance. A Clan has the right to defend their territory using whatever non-lethal means will discourage their intruders from attempting border-crossing again. It's encouraged that violence is a last resort, however.

SECTION IV: BATTLES

• Warfare between Clans is to be kept at an optimal minimum. If two Clans are fighting, they should avoid bringing the other Clans into it.

  • There are exceptions to this rule, but only in regards to the survival of one of the warring Clans. For example, if one Clan is attempted full genocide on their enemy Clan, assistance can be requested and given with no reprimands. It is to be a last resort in an emergency, nothing less.

• Killing an opponent is only acceptable for self-defense. Death must be avoided if it can be.

  • Punishment for instigating a murder, unless it can be proven to have been necessary or defensive, is the killer being assigned to hunting for the friends and family of the dead for nine days. They will also not be allowed to eat until everyone in their own Clan has fed first.

  • It can be expected that a queen or matriarch fighting for the nursery will instinctively attempt to kill an opponent they feel is dangerous. They are exempt from punishment if there are kits to be protected.

• Fighting arenas should be restricted to the borders of each Clan. Bringing the battle to camp is incredibly dangerous to everyone for the reason listed above—that queens and matriarchs will make the fight lethal. Avoid going beyond the borders as much as possible.

• If all four Clans are embroiled in full-on war, every attempt must be made to end the conflict peacefully. Gatherings must still commence, even in these times. A discussion that forces leaders to negotiate instead of conquer may save many lives.

SECTION V: LEADERS

• A leader is the foremost and default authority a Clan looks to at all times. The leader's word takes priority over the deputy's, seer's, matriarch's, or elders' in times of crisis.

• Leaders may be ousted from their position by majority vote. Reasonable cause must be present, including:

  • Tyrannical behavior by the leader.

  • Age or senility affecting the leader's ability to make decisions.

  • Severe law breaking by the leader.

  • The leader committing a crime that is worthy of intense punishment. (This will also be decided by majority vote.)

  • Dangerous levels of incompetence.

• When a leader retires for whatever reason, they must give up the -star suffix and return to their original warrior name. Passing on -star is much more important than any former leader's sense of superiority.

• Leaders may be of any age, but must have completed their warrior training and have trained at least one apprentice.

• In a crisis, a leader or deputy may be near completion of their first apprentice's training.

• Leaders may veto any decision their deputy makes, such as temporary replacements for the deputy's role or orders that go against the leader's will, and by default they will be obeyed. However, if the majority of the Clan agrees with the deputy, the leader may be ignored.

SECTION VI: DEPUTIES

• Candidates for the position must have trained at least one apprentice.

  • An apprentice who is still in training, but shows excellent progress in their learning and is close to earning their warrior name can have their mentor count as a candidate in times of crisis.

• When the leader passes on, retires or is otherwise giving up their position and -star suffix, the deputy succeeds them by default. Deputies are not considered leaders until they've gone to the Mother and received their -star suffix.

• Deputies are second in line in the hierarchy of authority, preceded only by leaders.

• If the leader's decisions and choices are not satisfactory to the Clan, or even if they're outright dangerous, deputies may overrule their leader, as decided by majority vote or assent when the idea is suggested by either the deputy or a supporter.

• Deputies may be both willingly and forcibly retired, as decreed by the leader.

• The reasons for retirement must be considered by the majority of the Clan to be valid, such as age, disability that conflicts with their ability to perform their role, bad behavior, dangerous beliefs and decisions, or incompetence.

• Having not completed their first apprentice's training, even if considered previously acceptable, can count as a reason to be retired. It is suggested to have multiple reasons adding to this, but not mandatory.

• Once a deputy has retired, they may apply for the position again and be either denied or approved by their leader. Until they are back in the role, though, they have lost their legal authority and are not considered as one step below a leader.

• In the event that a deputy cannot perform their role but will return to it, such as raising kits or being severely injured or ill and needing time to recover, they themselves may choose their replacement independent of the leader. The leader is allowed to veto their decision, but the majority vote of the Clan will defer judgement to one or the other.

SECTION VII: SEERS

• Once in the rank of seer, whether apprentice or named cat, individuals are forbidden from having a mate or have kits.

  • Previous warriors who already have a family and are welcomed into seerhood are not prohibited from interacting with their children, but are to immediately break things off with whatever mate they may have. It is also expected that the kits will be treated as regular Clanmates, and the seer will not have any emotional bias towards their well-being or futures.

• Seers are not to be taught to fight or hunt. A newcomer to the rank who has received any amount of warrior training is forbidden from learning anything further in the ways of violence or catching prey.

• Seers may act to defend themselves in an emergency, and previously-warrior-trained seers are allowed to use their abandoned skills for such purposes.

• Seers are protected on the same level as kits. Attacking, harming, harassing, or killing a seer will be punished as severely as one would in having any of these things be done to a kit.

  • That said, they will be treated like a warrior if they commit a crime, such as murder or abuse. They are not safe from the rest of the code in such instances.

• It is forbidden to refuse a seer's request for entry into one's territory, protection, or urgent assistance. Seers are separate from any feuds between Clans and will be treated as such.

• Seers who break any of these laws (having families, learning to fight or hunt, committing a crime even outside of their section of the code, etc) are eligible for removal from the role by the leader or deputy. They will be relegated to being a warrior if they are not exiled, which is dependent on the severity of the situation or the crime.

• Any warrior or apprentice is allowed to become a seer, provided they succeed in their training and do not step out of the boundaries presented here. The current seer is encouraged to speak with StarClan before naming a successor, but their choice will be respected regardless.

• Seers may assert their authority as a spiritual figure above leaders, deputies, matriarchs, or elders. If the majority of the Clan chooses to listen to them and obey their decrees, there is nothing to be done.

SECTION VIII: APPRENTICES

• Kits are eligible to become apprentices as soon as they are six months, or two seasons, or half a year old.

• Apprenticeship may be delayed or expedited in emergency situations, including:

  • A lack of current apprentices (expedition).

  • Developmental challenges keeping the kit from being regularly active (delay).

  • The mother of the kit needing to leave the nursery immediately (expedition, though keeping the kit in their rank while the queen leaves is more ideal).

  • An injury that requires the kit to rest and recover for an extended period of time (delay).

  • The need to provide a soon-to-be deputy an apprentice when there are no other cats able to take on the role in a short range of time (expedition).

  • A lack of available mentors (delayed).

• In these cases, the kit must be older than four moons, and the matriarch of the Clan and/or the kit's mother may veto the leader's decision if the kit is younger.

• Apprentices are not to be killed—accidentally or on purpose—in battle. The price for an apprentice's death is double that of a warrior's—whatever that will be is decided by the leaders whose Clans were involved in the battle.

• In the case of developmentally challenged cats, such as an individual who is mentally stuck in kithood, the leader may choose to not give the cat a warrior name—in other words, making them a permanent apprentice. This must be agreed upon by the majority of the Clan.

• Apprentices may have their mentor changed for any reason, including their own request for a different mentor. They may also be denied this change if the leader and deputy do not find their argument sufficient (for example, if the apprentice just wants a mentor who will let them get away with more mischief than their current mentor allows).

• Apprentices are to be given a warrior name after between six months and nine months of warrior training.

• If an apprentice is excelling at their training in all regards—hunting, fighting, tracking, mentoring, etc.—they may be permitted to become a warrior early. The earliest age legally acceptable is four months after their becoming a -paw.

• All apprentices must have their suffix changed from -kit to -paw at their apprentice ceremony. Any cat with the -paw suffix is granted all protections and honored laws listed in this section.

• Abuse of any kind inflicted on an apprentice will be punished with the same severity as abuse of a kitten. If the mentor is the one abusing them, the apprentice must be switched to a new mentor as soon as possible.

• Mentors may be related to their apprentice, by blood or by adoption. It is ideal to pair up cats who have no familial bond, but not a legal requirement.

• Leaders are responsible for naming an apprentice accurately. Conferring with their mentor and the deputy is recommended to ensure the correct warrior suffix be given.

  • If there are multiple choices of suffix to be given, apprentices may decide what they will be named. This includes being named for injuries or disabilities.

SECTION IX: KITS

• A kit's safety and survival is prioritized over everything else. In times of great hunger, kits and their mothers eat first, and when a fight reaches a Clan's camp, the kits are to be protected with a warrior's life.

• It is completely illegal to harm or kill a kitten, or knowingly neglect a kit in a way that brings harm to them. There is no exception to this rule.

  • Emotional and mental abuse will be punished similarly in severity to physical abuse.

• Guardianship of half-Clan kits defaults to their birth-mother every time. Second place goes to the queen's current Clan.

  • The queen may choose to send her kits to live with their father in his Clan. The queen's Clan is not allowed to force her to retract this choice, or to prevent her from doing it. In this situation, once the kits are with their father, he becomes their default guardian, with his Clan as second place.

• Guardianship of full-blooded kits defaults to their birth-mother, followed by their father.

• The definition of “father” can be either “parent by blood” or “parent by adoption”, at the birth-mother's discretion. If the queen dies, the father who she was mates with will be the default guardian.

• Kits have the right to request to be named after an injury they sustained and survived before they become an apprentice. The leader may agree to either change their prefix at their first ceremony or keep their original prefix and change the name entirely when they become a warrior.

• Queens are heavily encouraged to not name for injuries, disabilities, or disfigurements when the kitten is born. This is not illegal, but if done can be considered harmful to the kit, and the father or mate may exercise the right to change the kitten's name to something else, even if the queen doesn't agree.

• Half-Clan kits are not responsible for their origins, and will be left out of the punishment their parents receive. These kits are to be treated like any other full-blooded kit, no matter the circumstances that brought them about.

PUNISHMENTS

Clan life relies on trust, unity, and altruism to succeed. Everyone is expected to pull their weight as well as they can and to behave properly within the rules of the Code. It follows that any cat who deliberately steps out of those confines and causes trouble will be dealt justice swiftly and harshly. Once the punishment is dealt, it is never brought up in anything except reciting history and the Clan continues on as if nothing has happened. There is no nagging or mocking afterwards (ideally; apprentices can be jerks sometimes).

There are nine punishments the Clans utilize to keep their members in line. These will be touched on in order of least to most severity.

Tick/Flea Hunting
This is usually reserved for apprentices who speak rudely to their elders or disobey a direct, serious order from their mentor. The apprentice is ordered to go around camp and look over every nook, cranny, and pelt for ticks and fleas—an annoying job requiring a lot of crouching and squinting, not to mention some of the crankier cats not wanting an apprentice mussing their fur. This punishment lasts throughout the day, or until the apprentice finds nine or more fleas and ticks. They are not allowed to leave camp until their punishment is over.

Apprentice Duties
Reserved for warriors, particularly the young and cocky who cross into other Clans. territories, start fights, or sneak a meal before returning to camp with their prey (in the plentiful seasons). The warrior is moved into the apprentice's den for one to four days, depending on their crime, and work alongside the apprentices to take care of the elders, bring in bedding, and feed the queens (that latter of which never goes well). While these duties aren't exactly shameful, it is embarrassing for the warrior to go back so far, especially in ThunderClan and WindClan, who will refer to them with the -paw suffix until their punishment is over. They will also be escorted around the territory by a senior warrior, who is likely quite irritated with being taken off of important work and unafraid to let the younger cat know.

Meal Revocation
Usually dealt to cats who keep eating before feeding the elders and queens, shirk their duties or break one of the Border Laws. The warrior will go without one or two meals, only skipping an entire night when they really pushed the code. They will stay in camp or be followed by another cat to ensure that they don't eat for the duration of their punishment. This is a pretty heavy penalty for cats who are a breath away from starvation day in and day out.

Hunting for Other Clans
This is reserved for two specific cases: a cat is caught stealing prey from another Clan, or they kill someone in battle. For the first, the cat will bring four healthy morsels of prey to the other Clan, and will not eat until this duty is fulfilled. For the second, the food they catch for nine days will go to the friends and family of the cat they killed. In either case, there is a lot of discussion done between the leaders and deputies of both Clans to make sure that it wasn’t an accident, done out of self-defense, or an act of desperation. Likewise, the cat being punished will eat last out of everyone in their native Clan.

Gathering Rights Revoked
Cats who start fights with their neighbors, anger another Clan, or are found to be flirting across the border are forbidden from going to Gatherings. Exactly how long this lasts will vary, but three months is standard. This can be paired with the previous punishment, but in that case it's to be respectful to the deceased's family and keep them from having to stare at their loved one's murderer during a peaceful and happy night.

Camp Confinement
Those who start relationships with a neighboring Clan cat, are discovered hanging out with loners, or eat from kittypet bowls during the plentiful seasons are restricted to staying in camp for nine days. The cat will usually be ignored or glared at by their Clanmates, as they have broken the trust and loyalty that their Clan gives to and expects of them. They will be monitored by another cat and forced to go without a meal if caught trying to sneak out.

Isolation
In the event that a cat does one of the actions mentioned above and causes grief instead of anger (someone dies or gets severely hurt, for example), the cat will be avoided and chased away from their friends and family for the same amount of time (nine days). They cannot enter camp and must find a nest outside for themselves. They will be watched, of course, to make sure that they don't cross the border, but on the whole, they are alone. This is considered even worse than being openly glared at, because at least then you're getting some attention. The Clan cats are very social, and to be forcibly alienated from those they love is torture.

Name Erasure and Exile
This is the worst possible punishment for a living cat, reserved for traitors and criminals whose plans could have killed someone (or were intending to). The leader will forcibly erase the cat's name and declare them dead to the Clan before a patrol chases the cat out of the territory, with the order to kill them should they try to return. The cat will never be discussed or mentioned by name again, and if brought up by the neighbors, will be referred to as “the rogue” in past tense. It works just fine—since Clan cats are suited only to living in groups, the cat might as well be dead anyway. Without their name being honored by their family, they are refused from entry into StarClan.

Death
This is a punishment rarely seen within the Clans, simply because it requires rage and brutality brought on only by the most severe crimes. Murderers and attempted murderers are executed without a second thought by being led out of camp and torn apart by their former friends after the leader removes their name like in exiling. The mangled body is then unceremoniously dragged away and dumped outside of the territories for foxes and buzzards to take care of.
This is a brutal punishment, retribution of the highest degree, and it means that your spirit will be chased away from StarClan into dark places that no cat dares to think about. Your afterlife will be a literal hell on earth for as long as your soul exists, if Horoa and his agents don't catch you first.