Story + Art! ------------------------------ Sublime wind buffeted up and pulled leaves and flowers into Starclan’s spiral of stars. The twilight began to barely emphasize the sparkling points in the darkening sky, the transition paired stride for stride with the growing gale of wind. Syncstripe felt like he was in an underwater world as the trees above shook their leaves into schools of fish chasing constellations in the sky. There was a word for a place he was feeling of, he was sure there was, he had known it once. There! He remembered. ‘An aquarium.’ The colors of cyan and blue glimmered in his mind, though in the midst of the rolling green hills and windswept orchards, he could only recall few other details. Syncstripe would stand forever under the tree and try to remember, but he had a job to do. An important one at that. OrchardClan’s medicine cat was, though the word was overused now, missing. Hazelburrow had the annoying habit of not only not telling cats where he was going, but staying at the Starpoint, the clan’s less-than-safe connection to StarClan, for longer than he really should have. Syncstripe, dedicated handler of Hazelburrow, often let the beauties of his natruarl environment distract his task of retrieving him. Hazelburrow liked his time alone, he knew, and first out of sympathy, then out of normalcy, Syncstripe never was in a hurry going after him. This particular instance, Hazelburrow has been three days gone to the Starpoint. The medicine cat apprentice Brindlepaw would’ve only taken one, with how far away the small mountain was from OrchardClan camp. She rarely accompanied her mentor with how long he took now. Syncstripe snapped out of his trance and broke out into a few bounds, going from the cover of the pear trees to the wild open where the wind blew in full force over his tabby calico fur. He shook off a few leaves that swam into his pelt and continued his trek. The Starpoint was a place full of memories for him, it was there that an OrchardClan Medicine Cat apprentice long ago, Hazelpaw, had found him, dazed and confused, at the bottom of the internal caverns that hollowed out the inside of the small mountain. When he was found, all Synchstripe had remembered was being Sync of some family he had never been able to recall. His fuzzy origins never seemed to bother OrchardClan, so he let them go. It didn’t matter if he sometimes knew what ‘type’ of twoleg ‘monster’ was called or whatever odd twoleg-ish fact that would have never originated anywhere near OrchardClan’s breezy green territory. Thus, Syncstripe looked at the leaves being blown into a sky full of awakening stars and thought of a vague place called an aquarium. The small peak of the Starpoint rose before him, blocking out the infant night sky like a tall… Syncstripe had never been able to guess the word that always formed on the tip of his tongue when he saw it. Syncstripe, feeling emboldened by the strengthening wind, ran free over the last hills, his breath reduced when he finally neared the beginning boulders of his destination. ‘I could linger outside for a few moments, Hazelburrow wouldn’t mind it.’ He ran a paw over his ears, and sniffed the air for the scent of prey. The only smaller creatures in sight were a flock of crows making their rounds picking at the ground nearby. Not the best bird-catcher, his friend Apricotblaze took that title, Syncstripe abandoned the idea and wove around the rocks until he found a small gap that led to the Starpoint’s humongous cavern within. His whiskers guiding Synstripe, he followed the pitch black tunnel to the moonlit, beautifully dangerous path that hitched all the way up to the top of the smaller mountain, where the spirits of their ancestors could be reached. The path was made entirely of branching white crystals, infesting every crevice of the cavern yet also leaving a gracious amount of space between them, at times even a few fox-lengths! The higher a cat went the larger the gaps grew, and the closer to Starclan alternatively. (countinued next)
(countinued) Cats, even in their agility, were prone to mistakes. One slip-up near the top, and a cat would fall into the motionless gnashing teeth of the crystals below. Every OrchardClan cat who ever came to it would take a moment and pause at the inevitable graveyard that lay at the bottom, bones of generations of clan cats mixed with the remains of an unknown group that came before them. During Syncstripe’s lifetime, no cat had ever fallen, but it was always possible. For the sake of their ancestor’s wisdom, the cats climbed, and so would he. He’d made the journey many times now due to his attention to Hazelburrow. He spotted the exact path he usually took, and hopped onto the first crystal. ‘Hazelburrow’s scent is here, but it’s a little old. Did he even come down the Starpoint to find some food?’ Despite his trust in Hazelburrow, worrying just a bit for his friend was inevitable. Syncstripe hesitated when he was about to jump to the fifth crystal. ‘I should bring him something.’ It wasn’t impossible to turn back and try to scavenge a few berries or try his luck with the crows. As Syncstripe was just about to turn, tail swaying, a guttural caterwaul echoed from the top of the Starpoint far above. Could it be Hazelburrow? Syncstripe strained his ears and his memory. Did it sound like Hazelburrow? He couldn’t remember, which, though not shocking with his history, disappointed him infinitely. Abandoning the idea of food, Syncstripe quickly resumed his journey. Jumping as quickly as he could, finding each crystal of his path with StarClan-blessed balanced paws. The wind was weaving down through the cavern, its swelling multiplied tenfold by the way the cavern opened to the sky. Syncstripe, now nearing the top, wondering if the one-off yowl was perhaps something not as serious as he worried. Perhaps Hazelburrow had just woken up from a StarClan dream too quickly, and he had seen something frightening. Whatever it was, if it was a problem for the future and not the present, it was alright with Syncstripe. The drafts around him grew clearer and lighter, he was almost there. He could see the visible shine of moonlight glimmering in the air from the opening at the top. He cleared another crystal, growing yet closer, and he lifted his muzzle up high to try and catch Hazelburrow’s scent. “Hazelburrow?” He called, reaching the second to last crystal, his claws scraping the hard surface. “Syncstripe! Is that you?” A familiar voice cut through the cool wind, filling Syncstripe with warmth. “I’m almost there.” Syncstripe waggled his haunches for another leap, when the shape of a brown siamese tom from the opening stopped him. Hazelburrow, lean in frame but with a certain sturdiness in his shoulders that rivaled even the deputy Dovebelly’s build, dropped onto the last crystal with a chaotic look in his lavender-blue eyes. “Are you alright?” Syncstripe, his fur lying flat as he saw his friend was okay, though looking a little starved. His jaw opened, about to ask if the medicine cat was hungry, before the tom began rapidly shaking his pelt. “I can still feel it on my pelt! What are you waiting for? Go! Go!” Hazelburrow urgently pawed at his own fur and crouched for a leap right to Syncstripe’s crystal! Syncstripe tensed and quickly leapt back onto another crystal as Hazelburrow jumped. Not a lot of crystals had room for two, what was Hazelburrow thinking? ‘What’s different this time?’ Syncstripe pondered at what had gotten his friend in such a state, as he rarely saw true rattlement of Hazelburrow’s resolve. “What’s wrong?” He asked, but the siamese did not respond, only bunched his form for another jump. Syncstripe hastily went back again, his jump unmeasured and sloppy, though not fatal. He steadied himself, refusing to look down as he tried to turn back and reason with Hazelburrow some more. “Hazelburrow. What is it?” “Go on! Go on!” The medicine cat looked from side to side like the shadows themselves were threatening him. His fur on end, he barely crouched before springing wildly into another jump. Syncstripe scuttled back, no time to react for a leap of his own, hoping there was enough space and Hazelburrow didn’t crash into him. His back met suffocating rock and Hazelburrow’s hind paws met empty air. Syncstripe felt his mind relapse, his world in slow motion as suddenly, oddly, his friend… missed? Comprehension was put on pause, leaving Syncstripe paralyzed for a dreamy instant as Hazelburrow swung from the tip of the crystal, his jittery forepaws leaving scratches before they disappeared over the edge and didn’t return. "HAZELBURROW!!" Music Credit ::: Storm echoes l https://scratch.mit.edu/users/StormEchoes/ Character Designs ::: https://toyhou.se/venus-adoptz and https://toyhou.se/RealTurtle Story and thumbnail art by me
