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Chapter Text

GroveClan

Leader

Deputy

Medicine Cats

Guardians

Nettlewhisper – A large tan color-point tom with darker brown markings on his ears, face, legs and tail. (( Credit - .charl1e_ on Discord/Roblox )) 

Warriors

Copperstalk –  A broad-shouldered orange and brown calico she-cat

Prairiebound - A golden brown tabby she-cat with half of her face covered in scar tissue

Grimchaser - A long-furred tan colorpoint tom with chocolate brown markings on his legs, face, ears and tail

Apprentices

Rabbitpaw – A dark gray tom with white markings

Queens

Banditshiver - A black she-cat with distinct white markings

Dovebloom - A large long-furred white she-cat

Elders

Outsiders

Koraki – A one-eyed long-furred cat with a variety of fur-colors and a stumpy tail. 

Milo - A caramel-colored tom with darker markings on his face, front legs, and lower half. 

The Colony

Leader

Alaska – A silver tabby and white tom with unusually long claws

Commander

Dragon – A long-furred black she-cat

Scrappers

Flick - A scrawny long-furred dappled calico tom

Zero - A small black  flecked white tom 

Poem - A tortoise-shell she-cat

Wolf - A long-furred white she-cat

Duck - A mottled white and gray-brown tom

Ghoul - A battle-scarred brown and sandy-yellow tom

Keepers

Cedar - A reddish-brown cat

Triton - A blue colorpoint tom

North - A freckled gray-brown and white she-cat

Circus - A white long-furred flecked orange tom

Outcasted

Firefly - A black tom with a golden tail

Ripple - A long-furred pale gray she-cat

Domino - A white tom with black spots

Monroe - A declawed marbled calico tabby tom

Rogues

Carrion - A long-furred gray tabby and white tom with a large scar across half of his face. 

Cadaver - A soft gray tabby she-cat with white spots (Mother of Crescent - a dusky gray she-cat, and Mercury - a silver tabby tom)

Chapter Text

The young warrior could only recall brief glimpses from the last sunhigh. He could still feel the bitter shiver that traced his spine as his wheat-colored eyes drifted upon the frozen corpse of his leader. Grimchaser’s emotions fleeted in and out through his mind as the snow fluttered onto his thick pelt. He knew he should have ran back to his clan. He should have found Nettlewhisper, or any older warrior as soon as he could. However, when the warrior caught the faint whiff of a distinct rogue, all of his reasoning silenced. 

Grimchaser couldn’t remember how he had journeyed through the frosted landscape. He could only perceive the intense rush of hostility that flooded his veins as he traced the foul scent across the territory. It was him! The warrior had faced the rogue previously, when the cat had been welcomed within Groveclan. He knew that this cat would only continue to harm his clan and he was proven right. Grimchaser stalked through the abandoned Shadowclan territory. It felt as if he was hunting another meek piece of prey. 

The next thing Grimchaser could think of was how his jaw tightened around the throat of the rogue. Blood gathered and gushed through the punctures. In the moment, the warrior could feel nothing, but relief. He believed he had saved his family and his clan from future horrors, yet as he dragged his grisly paws through the snow, he could only think about the life he had taken. His mind tried to excuse it, He killed first! The iciness of his guilt crept from the back of his consciousness. The pale brown tom dropped beside his fallen leader’s body, the ferocity of the battle had wounded him greatly. As he guarded the departed cat, a battle raged within his thoughts as he fought to convince himself. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had laid there, but a Groveclan patrol had come across him and the leader. What will they think? He thought as he focused his gaze up at the horrified expressions across his clanmates’ faces. Their trek back to the clan with their leader’s body felt as if Grimchaser was a spectator in his own body. As they crossed into the entrance tunnel, the only thought that stood out to him was Mom. He attempted to swerve around the patrol, but Prairiebound stood in his way. The muscular she-cat guided him towards the medicine den for his wounds. In his distraught state, Grimchaser slinked into the stony den. He felt the prodding of Rabbitpaw, the medicine cat apprentice, faintly as he checked his injuries and began to clean the debris from them. 

Yet the most vivid memory of that sunhigh was when Banditshiver dashed into the den. He could see the absolute worry and fear that stretched across her face, but when she looked into his eyes, she stood still. It was at that moment that he became aware of the dried blood that stained his maw and down his neck. He stretched his foreleg toward the queen and begged for her embrace. He was trembling. Banditshiver! I need you please! He remembered screaming and crying her name, but she wouldn’t move. She knew that her son had committed an atrocity. 

He recalled crying himself to sleep that night. If Rabbitpaw had heard him, he hadn’t mentioned it. As he left the medicine den, he felt the sympathetic eyes of his clanmates. A couple of cats came up to Grimchaser and assured him that what he had done was the right thing. However, he couldn’t believe it. He tried to continue his warrior duties, kept a smile around Nettlewhisper and his younger brother, but all he could think of was his mother. The lithe she-cat could barely stand being in the same area as him. Grimchaser even noticed this change affecting their family and friends. One sunhigh, he had found Copperstalk, a close friend of Banditshiver and aunt-figure to the warrior, sobbing into her mossy nest. After discovering that an altercation between her and the queen had been the cause, he apologized to the larger warrior and left to confront his mother. 

Grimchaser didn’t wish for any of this. The she-cat who had taken him in as a weak kit regarded him as a monster. Nettlewhisper had stepped into the confrontation to soothe the tension. The altercation ended with the separation of the warrior’s parents. Grimchaser didn’t think his heart could break anymore, yet he could feel it shatter. Even as a kit, he had wanted nothing but to keep his family safe. He trained as much as he could as an apprentice, even seeking out lessons from outside of the clan. Yet, it was his actions that led to the dismantling family. Grimchaser could barely drag his legs back into the Warrior’s den, he collapsed in the clearing. 

The disheveled long fur of Grimchaser lifted gently as the cold wind blew across him.  The sun had risen and dipped below while he laid in the clearing. It felt like a trance as he watched his clanmates continue on with their day. He watched Nettlewhisper direct patrols and the pair made eye contact. How do you have the strength to work after what happened? The young warrior wondered before shifting his eyes to the dirt. The newly appointed deputy watched solemnly before focusing on his next task. As the cats dispersed for their daily duties, Grimchaser found himself alone in the clearing. 

Groveclan’s camp was silent. Most of the warriors and guardians had made their way into the forest for hunting or training. The medicine cat and her apprentice were halfway to Highstones. Grimchaser slowly shifted his weight and sat up. His darker ears flitted to detect any voices or sound, No one will see. During the long night, he had made a decision. He prowled along the outer cavern wall with his paws light. His heart began to pound and his throat felt tight. As Grimchaser reached the entrance tunnel, he paused. One of his large paws raised from the ground and rested upon his treasured necklace. A long and twisted tree branch given to him by Nettlewhisper. Ever since then, he finally saw himself as his and Banditshiver’s son. He choked on a sudden sob, I ruined their family… I’m no one’s son! With an emotional burst of strength, Grimchaser yanked the article from his neck. He barely spared a glance at the branch before he began his sprint from his home. 

The former warrior scampered into the dense forest. Trees began to form into blurry visages and he barely felt the ground on his paws. He didn’t even realize he had reached the edge of the territory until a deafening call startled him from his state. Grimchaser looked toward the noise and saw the blinding light of a monster as it roared again and closed in. His mind froze, but his reflexes took over. The large tom threw himself to the other side of the asphalt and landed with a hard tumble. The monster sped past without a sign of slowing as he lifted his head and released a breath. He hadn’t even realized he stopped breathing. 

“Fox-brain!” Grimchaser yelped to himself, “Get it together!” As he moved to stand up, he felt an increasing ache in his shoulder. Instead of resting, he continued on his path. The brief spikes of pain that sparked whenever he used too much pressure didn’t deter him from leaving. Grimchaser only knew of one cat that lived outside of the clan, but he didn’t have a way of meeting him. Their last meeting was a planned occasion on Groveclan’s territory. The strong scent of clan markers faded as he reached the twoleg buildings. He didn’t have any other plans besides walking 

until his paws failed him.

As he slinked around the dark corner of the neighborhood, he could hear his own thoughts chastise him. This was a mistake, go back! “I can’t,” Grimchaser choked out. “I don’t deserve too,” He observed the unfamiliar dark area and crossed into the next yard. He continued to mumble to himself, the feeling of talking gave him a small sense of comfort. His paws felt sore from the many treks across the rough concrete sidewalks. The lines of twoleg houses felt as if they went on forever. The only occasional danger was a sleeping mutt, but they were locked behind a wire barrier. 

He missed Banditshiver. He missed Nettlewhisper. His young brother just became an apprentice, but he’d never see his warrior ceremony now. He missed the comfort of being surrounded by the scents of his clanmates. His tears began to conjure again as the sun slowly peaked through the gaps between houses. He hoped that he would open his eyes and wake up to the site of the warrior’s den stone wall, to trip over the other sleeping clan cats as he watched the sun begin to light up the camp. Grimchaser shook his head as he knew it was a mere hope. 

“Wildcat!” Even in his numb-like state, he recognized that they were calling to him. “What’re you doing?” The voice came from further behind him. Grimchaser shifted to look back and he met the gaze of the cat he had been looking for. 

“Carrion…” His voice was hoarse and his throat was dry. As he looked toward the cat, his voice began to waiver. The grey tabby’s pelt became vague shapes of grey and white as it grew bigger. His head dropped onto the tom’s shoulder as soon as he was close enough, it startled the smaller cat. 

“Woah-woah, what’s happening?” Carrion tried to peel back to look down at the warrior, but it became difficult as Grimchaser’s consciousness weakened. “Why’re you here? Are you okay?” None of the rogue’s questions were answered. The last thing the young warrior could recall was the warm pelt of the tom’s and the sound of Carrion’s frantic speech.