Honeycloud | Mistralclan Medicine Cat

Name: Honeykit, Honeypaw, Honeycloud
Gender: She- cat
Age: 16 Moons, mid newleaf
Loyalty: Mistralclan
Rank: Medicine Cat


seems so long ago since we were carefree

A pretty, slender she- cat, Honeycloud’s fur is a pale golden orange color, like a faded shade of firey honey, hence her name. Her fur is long and soft and makes her appear slightly larger than she really is. Due to the winds that sweep over Mistralclan territory, Honeycloud's fur nearly always has a swept-back look, creating the appearance of a whimsical flow to her slender body. When she walks, she seems to glide, her body always poised and elegant, an air of mystery and sensuality about her at all times. Although her paws are large, they seem well proportioned to her body. She has a deep pink nose and pink pads, which are softer than most Mistralclan cats' pads and she tries to keep them that way. The beautiful medicine cat also attempts to remain clean at all times, despite the fact that she must work with messy injuries from time to time. She keeps her secrets in her sage green color eyes with a forest green ring around the pupil and golden yellow around the very edge. They always seem mischievous, as if she knows something that every cat wants to know, a flick of her long tail easily dismissing the mystery easily enough.



photographs lost in time are all i see

Vain | Mischievous | Tease | Smart | Pacifist | Independent | Playful | Obligated | Hopeless Romantic | Lonely

Honeycloud enjoys visiting Starclan, organizing herbs, helping new queens get settled, caring for her clanmates, being respected, teasing toms, getting attention, getting her way, watching her brother in battle practice, voles (to eat) and dislikes being dirty, being disorganized, seeing her clanmates in pain, mud, hunting, fighting, killing, being seen only for her looks, being ignored, not getting her way. Her memory, problem- solving skills, genuine care for her clanmates, motivational skills, and faultless ability to tease tom are assets to her personality while she falls short when it comes to hunting, making friends with she-cats, knowing her place, respecting the Mistralclan leader, and even using yarrow, which she considers to be 'too yicky.' She fears someone catching on to her flaws, that she will use her looks, and if she had her way she would never grow old. She secretly envies queens with kits and sometimes weeps long after the clan shares tongues, mourning not for her fallen clanmates but how she gave up the ability to ever fall in love. Honeycloud dreams one day to help her clan become strong again, and to one day train her own apprentice that will surpass her in every way. While she can be found pacing to keep herself calm or to just clear her head, her true patience is found in the sacrifice she made for her clan one night when she secretly met with Starclan and hasn't heard from them since.


a pointless nostalgic - that's me - that's me

Mother: Cloudfeather
Father: Blazenfur
Sibling(s): Foxpelt (adopt), UNKNOWN: Rabbitpaw (half-sister, Shadeclan)
Mentor: Her warrior training was shared by multiple seasoned warriors, her medicine cat knowledge learned from watching her mother and Barkface (see history)
Mate: N/A
Kits: N/A


thoughts running 'round my head today

the pre
Tucked down between the wildflowers of the Steeplands rests the Mistralclan camp. Here, dappled brightly with yellow sunlight and whistling with the music of the winds, did many a cat once call their home. They were strong, prideful warriors with ancient lineage stretching further than the stars themselves. The very mountains whispered, singing their celestial song to the mesmerizing melody of cricket- chirps, weaving a tale of warriors long forgotten amongst lines of mist. Here, where the sun can refract and shower the earth with the full glory of its spectrum; here where the land was not born for cats, but the cats are born for the land; here where the true battle cry is not of tooth and claw but of the very nature of nature itself is where Mistralclan settled down for one relentless winter. Here is where Mistralclan made their home. Here is the clan into which Honeycloud was born.

Ah, but her tale does not start here, when she was barely a scrap of a kit and the winter was taking its toll. To fully know the vixen, one would need to have known before her before.

And, one would need to have known Blazenfur.

Thick with muscle and broad in the shoulders and face, a handsome tom strolled his way into Mistralclan camp. A playful beam of the yellow sun found him, illuminating his orange fur in all its fiery splendor, long and thick, it danced in the warm newleaf wind as he glided over the soft clearing of moss and clover which covered most of the camp floor. Whiskers long and twitching in anticipation, he made his glorious entrance into camp and stopped to drink in the limelight his clan shone upon him. The she- cats, from the youngest apprentice to the most prideful of warriors, were suddenly caught up in his sweet- scented wind and stared, enchanted, breathless. The toms, jealously alight in their eyes, stood in the background murmuring compliments of his strength and courage in battle, his effortless hunting abilities, and his flawless communication skills.

High on the praise of his fellow clanmates, the trusted warrior made his way through the small throng of his adoring crowd, speaking sweet murmurs to his precious little ladies who ate up his every word. Blind to him was the whole of the medicine cat’s den. It was useless to him- he was too cunning to become injured, too strong to succumb to any illness- yet it was the medicine cat’s new helper that would become the most important cat in the camp that day. For she, white with fur pale as snow, was Cloudfeather, and hidden safely within the warmth of her womb were Blazenfur’s kits.

“Blazenfur! Blaze!” Her melodic voice cried over the crowd, but he was immune to such cries, had grown accustomed to them. He merely let out a rolling chuckle from his stomach.

“That’s my name ladies, don’t wear it out now.” He purred with a voice layered thick with seductive tones.

“Blazenfur!” Cloudfeather cried again and began to weave her way around the other she- cats to find him, nearly knocking into the arrogant tom as he turned his head to wink and some skinny tabby. “Blazenfur.” She breathed, for she, too, was caught up in all that he was.

“Cloudfeather. A pleasure as always my dear… where have you been, it seems like moons!” He purred, staring meaningfully into her yellow eyes. She blinked once, twice, before she could work up the proper courage to answer.

“Well, I guess it’s easy to get caught up in…. other things… when you’ve got yourself a whole clan to feed and other…. things to please.” She breathed, her glances shying away from him. He chuckled at her softly.

“My dear little cloud, the winter was long. We lost many to greencough and every warrior has his paws full trying to feed the few queens we have left and the ones who are still sick. It is my duty to be busy with leafbare just barely over.” Blazenfur defended himself with low, charming murmurs.

“As has been mine. I have been aiding Barkface in the medicine cat den for now. I’d be no use out there compared to warriors like you, I-“

“Ah, you see? So we’re all helping.” He cut her off cheerfully, straightening and looking off. She had lost his attention already. “Which reminds me, I have a hunting patrol to lead, if you’ll excuse me…” He pushed past her, walking back towards the entrance and leaving her staring after him, speechless, petrified with the words which pressed her tongue.

“B-blaze…” She squeaked, but he made no notice. “Blazenfur, wait!” She cried, but he merely waved his tail in dismissal.

“Can’t honey, hungry clan to feed.”

“Blaze, please!” She begged, but the rest of the patrol was already gathering. “Blazenfur….” She breathed.

“I’m pregnant!”



the ‘kit
“Don’t you want to support your clan, be a true father? Don’t you want to support your kits? Support… me?” Her voice kept echoing in his head. That annoying, claws on slate voice. Why did she do this to him, trap him like this? He wasn’t a father type, he was a warrior, he was a ladies man, he was, he was-

“Blazenfur?” A rough voice croaked at him, then coughed thickly. The strong tom turned to see Barkface’s frail body trembling under the strain of his hacking, his short mottled fur thin and dirty, the poor old medicine cat lacking the strength to clean himself or the time to share tongues. Blazenfur couldn’t help but shudder at the sight of him, the cat the embodiment of Blazenfur’s greatest fears. Sick, old, small, weak, and alone. What a horrible life. He blinked to notice Barkface’s head turned upwards towards him, awaiting his reply.

“Y-yes, Barkface.” He answered respectfully, but the old tom didn’t seem impressed.

“Hmph. You may enter.” The medicine cat croaked and shuffled away towards the medicine cat den, leaving the entrance to the nursery a dark open void to taunt the new father. Blazenfur swallowed, his green eyes trying to penetrate the darkness and see inside without moving a single pawstep. New fears came over him. He wanted to love his kits. He feared he would not. He knew himself too well. With a sigh he dragged his heavy paws towards to the entrance, his eyes squinting as his head passed over the threshold into the warm dim light.

When his eyes finally fell upon her he felt his heart leap to his throat. The entire den was filled with her scent, and the very form of her stretched out upon the soft moss was as if she was looking at a fallen star right before him. Her attention was turned away, her back to him, and again the fear fluttered in his belly, again he felt the strong desire to turn and run away and never come back.

“Blazenfur?” She asked, her voice soft and sleepy. She had caught him, he couldn’t leave now. “Come see your kits.” She purred, but he didn’t move. For a while she did not press him further but when it seemed that he was not going to come, she spoke again. “They don’t bite, silly.” She giggled, and somehow that made his paws move again. Mechanically, lifelessly, drawn fourth by her simple order and his obligation.

And there they were.

The two kits were undoubtedly his, each touched with the fiery tones of his pelt. They mewed and squirmed against her belly and again his heart leaped. “What are their names?” He squeaked, unable to take his eyes from them. He knew nothing else to say. He was petrified of his own young.

“I thought we could name them together.” He backed away, wanting to claw her ears off for that.

“No.” He said distantly. “Name them whatever you want.” He tried to keep his voice warm, but it was difficult. If only they had any other father.




“Father! Father!” Tiny squealing voices giggled as two tufts of orange fur tumbled out of the nursery. The skilled little warriors crouched low and eyed their prey, the dreaded orange snake which had a death grip on their father’s butt. The she- kit, a very pale golden orange, signaled to her brother with a wave of her tiny tale to circle around to the other side of the snake, ready to attack. The brother, a brighter orange, hopped away with stifled giggles. The snake flicked back and fourth, attempting to evade them but to no avail. They were too cunning and Blazenfur wasn’t paying close enough attention. Green eyes pinned on the helpless victim, the kits pounced, satisfied with the clear yelp that sounded from their father.

He whirled on them with fire in his eyes to find them tumbling over each other in a fit of giggles. He straightened, ridged with anger so potent the kits could scent it. They scrambled to stand themselves, avoiding his gaze though by now it was seeking another. “Cloudfeather.” He barked sternly, finding the white- she cat had been gossiping over in the medicine cat’s den yet again. She caught sight of her fearful kits and hurried over.

“What’s all this about?” She asked innocently.

“We caught the snake-tail, mummy.” She she- kit declared with pride.

“You did! My, how fine of you-“

“They were distracting me.” Blazenfur snapped. She eyed him. He seemed older, somehow, but not in a matured way like he had grown into his role, in a way that made it seem like he, too was sick. It was almost as if surviving the long winter was just as sickening and dangerous as falling victim to it.

“Honeykit, Foxkit, is this true?” She chided, though she didn’t fully wish to. It wouldn’t hurt her mate to play with his kits. “Apologize to your father.”

“Sorry Blazenfur.” They droned in unison. With a cue from their mother they were released, sent running back into the nursery.

“You need to keep those kits under control. We have enough to do without them running around underpaw.” Blazenfur demanded. Cloudfeather recoiled.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to-“

“I have a patrol.” With that he was gone, leaving Cloudfeather wounded again, her mouth open, still wishing to speak further.

“Cloudfeather, is father going to play with us some more?” Honeykit asked, her small head peaking out of the entrance.

“Your father is very busy, Kitten. Without good warriors like him, Mistralclan might not have survived last leafbare." She explained, guiding her kit back into the den and settling down with her.

“Is that the Endless Leafbare, mummy?” Foxkit chirped.

“Yes my sharp little warrior. What a keen memory you have. Blazenfur and a few other warriors were the only toms able to keep their strength up. They spent every moment of their free time hunting. It seemed like they found every last little piece of prey on the moor by the time newleaf rolled around. Without them, we would have all gone hungry and you-“ She flicked Foxkit’s nose with her tail, “might not even be here today.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” Honeykit sighed wistfully, draping her little paws over one of Cloudfeather’s. Her eyes dreamily questioned her mother, which caused a purring giggle from her belly.

“Why yes, Kitten. He’s your father, of course I love him. He’s a brave and trusted warrior and you should be proud that you’re his kits.”

“I love that.” Honeykit murmured.

“What, Kitten?”

“Falling in love with a strong warrior. I want that.”

“Oh, yuck, not me, I want nothing to do with it.” Foxkit’s nose scrunched up in disgust, causing both she- cats to giggle. “Don’t laugh! I’m going to be a strong warrior like Blazenfur! I won’t have time for she-cats.”

“Well my little warrior, that may be, but sometimes Starclan has other plans for us.”



the ‘paw
“From this moment, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Honeypaw!” The young she- cat turned to see her small clan cheering her name.

“Honeypaw! Honeypaw!” They called. She beamed, humbly drinking in the attention. Beside her sat the newly named Foxpaw, his green eyes searching for their father. He called with the rest of them, but seemed distracted, the tom shifting on his paws as he watched the ceremony. Out of the corner of her eye Honeypaw caught her brother’s disappointment but she herself had eyes only for their mother, confident she would see nothing but love and pride there. She was correct and the pretty white she- cat was the first to greet them.

“Oh, what am I going to do without my strong little warriors nearby?” She asked, pressing her nose to both their cheeks and ignoring Foxpaw’s protests.

“Don’t worry, now we can protect you out there. Bring you food too! I can’t wait to hunt, I’m going to bring you the biggest rabbit ever!” Honeypaw enthused.

“Not if I catch it first!” Foxpaw taunted.

“Well I have an appetite for the biggest rabbit and the biggest mouse, if my little warriors are up for the task.” Cloudfeather giggled.

“I can catch a mouse!” Honeypaw exclaimed.

“No, me!”

“You’ll need to learn to hunt first.” A voice cut through and calmed their excitement. His green eyes cold, Blazenfur motioned for them to follow. “We are short on warriors and your mentors are busy. We will have to share training you. You can come hunting with the patrol that’s going out now. And you will feed the elders and queens first. Then your mother.”

“Yes, Blazenfur.” They droned.



“Foxdung!” Foxpaw spat, and pushed himself up out of the slick mud and back up to the short ledge of the steeplands, his tough pads finding grips and pawholds in the stone to pull himself up. Eyes angry, he glanced about the mountainside, paranoid of an audience. This move, this one mousebrain move, he just couldn’t get it. He had to though, he would remain a warrior, they couldn’t do this to him. Not the son of Blazenfur!

Crouching low on the ledge, the orange tom tensed his muscles, his legs a wound spring ready to be released. He was about to let himself fly when a seductive laugh caught his ear. “What are you doing?” Honeypaw’s voice purred, causing Foxpaw to flinch. He felt like a kit caught sneaking out of camp.

“I hate this stupid competition. I need more time to train.” He explained, righting himself and shivering against the early newleaf chill. It was a harsh leafbare and now it seemed it was going to be a cold newleaf as well.

“Oh Foxpaw, I’m sure you’ll do fine. Besides, we are related, and I can totally convince another tom to take your place if you lose. Which you won’t.”

“Gee. How supportive of you. Thanks.” Foxpaw turned his back to her, his ear twitching as he heard her begin to pace, thinking.

“Well, what if we-“

“No, Honeypaw. No what if’s. Father’s not here to protect us anymore by the very use of his name. When the time comes to choose the new medicine cat and we have to fight off the others, I’m going to lose. It’s what they want, anyway, I’m small and I have a good memory.”

“But you know nothing about herbs! You never paid any attention when Cloudfeather spoke to us about her time with Barkface, you were always daydreaming about being a warrior!”

“What do you want from me, Honeypaw? I’m built for speed, not brute strength, and they all know it, so do you. At least you’re pretty like mum was, you have a chance. Starclan knows you can fight, too, if they bothered to lift a claw against you.” It wasn’t going to be a brutal competition, just a sparing match to decide who was stuck with the job, but the desperation which kept the young survivors clinging to their dreams worried Foxpaw.

Honeypaw sighed. “We’ll think of something. Just.. keep practicing.”

“I plan to.”




By the time Honeypaw returned to camp one of the older apprentices had switched onto entrance duty- a she- cat. Dreading a lecture from a cat only a few moons older then her, she put on a mask of regret and slipped into the entrance, jumping when the warrior caught her. “And what are we doing out of camp at this late hour, Honeypaw?” She questioned snidely. She hated Honeypaw, most of the she- cats did. She didn’t know why. She hadn’t done anything to them.

“Just out to make dirt is that such a crime?” She questioned. The other she-cat sniffed. “What, you wanna check?"

“Oh shut up and go back to the den.”

With a sarcastic salute of her tail Honeypaw did as she was told, slipping into the apprentice den and settling down in her nest. She didn’t feel tired, her mind still reeling with thoughts as to how to secure Foxpaw’s victory. Should she rig the competition? No, that was too obvious. Maybe she could distract one of the toms so he would lose? Yes, that may work, but then that leaves a different tom stuck as medicine cat when his heart is really that of a warrior.

Eventually her body took over, its exhaustion forcing Honeypaw to fall into a fitful sleep.




“Wake up, Kitten.” A voice purred. Honeypaw’s nose twitched, only half- recognizing a familiar scent. She felt a nose at her cheek and giggled, snorting softly. “There now, Kitten, time to get up.” Her eyelids heavy with sleep, she lifted her head and blinked slowly, catching only glimpses of her surroundings. It was night, and the sky was clear with crisp, white stars. “Oh Kitten, how you’ve grown.”

“Mummy?” Honeypaw questioned in a yawn, her sight hazy under half- closed lids.

“Yes, Kitten, I’m here.”

“Where’s here?” She asked, pressing her nose to her mother’s pelt and blissfully drinking in the scent.

“Why, Starclan, of course.”

“What!?” With a start she leapt to her paws, eyes wide. She turned about in the starry clearing, bewildered by her environment. In the distance, starry cats seemed to be laying out to warm their pelts, but there was no sun, only the moon and the twinkling stars. “Am I-“

“Oh no, Kitten! You’re very much alive, don’t you worry about that, but this is no coincidence, Honeypaw.”

“Then… why-“

“It’s Foxpaw. He’s not going to win the competition.” Cloudfeather spoke gravely. Honeypaw dipped her head sadly.

“Oh, but he won’t lose, either.”

“Really? That’s great! But… then why are you telling me, what do I care if someone else loses?” Cloudfeather’s gaze was all- knowing and unyielding. It unsettled her. “What?” She questioned.

“Honeypaw, don’t you think there’s a better solution to be found than this competition thing the toms have concocted?” She questioned softly, as if Honeypaw should know the answer.

“What do you mean?" She asked, suddenly uncomfortable in her mother’s gaze. Still, her mind began to work out the meaning of it. “Wait, you don’t mean- no mum, me? But I-“

“Have an outstanding memory equal to that of your brother, actually paid attention to me when I tried to teach you, and are a genuinely loving and caring she- cat who could care for every cat as if they were her own kit. It’s you, Kitten. It’s always been you.”

“No. Uh- uh. You’re not sticking me with this, I won’t do it.”

“Then Foxpaw will, and he will fail, and your clan will die!” Cloudfeather snapped.

“Mummy!” Honeypaw shrieked.

“I’m sorry, Kitten, but it is Starclan’s choice, not mine. There are much greater forces at work here.”

“Yes, but what about my choices, huh? Did Starclan ever think about them? Did you ever once stop to think if I might like to be a warrior just as much as Foxpaw? And where was Starclan when we froze over? They certainly have been quiet, even when you-” she couldn't finish.

“You hate getting dirty, you’d rather die then snag a claw, and you want to cry every time you have to kill something. When you give thanks to Starclan for your kill, we do pay attention, you know. We have always paid attention.”

Honeypaw groaned. “But I have dreams, I-“

“Who, has some tom caught your eye?"

“Not anyone yet, they're all just a bit of fun, but-“

“Someone else? Who? What tom isn’t sniffing around every she- cat he can get a hold of. The clan is low on numbers, and they want to increase that. It has nothing to do with love.”

“What do you know, you were in love, you were a lucky one. It’s not easy down there, I have to work to be so desired. I have to hide things! My stupid laugh, for instance! What about you, the precious Cloudfeather, ever have to hide anything?”

“Yes.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“You.” Honeypaw took a step back. “I was going to take Barkface’s place, but I fell for your father. I thought maybe I could have you and your brother in secret but it would be too obvious if I returned with two found kits. I knew you would look like him. That you would have his strength, his confidence.”

“You would give us up? But you had love!”

“No, Honeypaw! He had love. My love. I did not have his in return. I never did. I realize that now. I wasted my life on one tom. I had potential, a gift, Honeypaw. Like you have. But Starclan had other plans for me.”

“Like they do for me.” Honeypaw said miserably.

“Oh, Kitten.”

“I want love mum. I want kits, a family.” She reached her mother and hid her face in her sweet white fur.

“Aw, I know Kitten, I know. And you will have it.”

Honeypaw sniffed. “What do you mean? It would be forbidden!”

“Oh, a life of a medicine cat isn’t all that bad. You’ll have the love of a whole clan, Kitten. They all need someone to love, and someone who will love them, each one of them unconditionally. You will see beyond strength and power, see the cat inside and help them to grow. Starclan knows the clan needs to grow.”

“Yeah, we are kinda young, the ones of us that are left, huh?” Honeypaw giggled slightly, letting herself snort once or twice. It seemed contagious, though, like she couldn’t stop. She fell into a fit of it, her mother joining half- heartedly until laughter grew to tears and it was time to comfort her kit once more. “I can’t do it, mummy. I don’t think I have enough in me to raise a whole clan like they were my kits. Kits! That’s what we are, every one of us. I can’t, mummy, I can’t, please-“ Honeypaw sobbed.

“Now now, Kitten. There there, dry your tears right up. I have faith in you. All of Starclan thinks you can do this or you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Really?” The apprentice lifted her tear- stained face.

“Yes, Kitten. And I know that your heart is so big, you have enough love in it for every one of those little warriors.”

“Maybe you’re right. But oh, Cloudfeather, how will I tell them, how will they accept me? We haven't heard from Starclan in ages, will they believe that you come with this message all of a sudden and-”

“Hmph, I think I can help with that.” A gruff voice joined in and the two she- cats turned to see a young and healthy Barkface in his prime approaching. “When you wake up, named a full medicine cat by Starclan even that cheeky Foxpaw will respect your decision. They want to believe it, so they will. Besides, you'll be hearing a lot more of us soon enough.”

“I will? That means I get to see you again? Come back without being… well…”

“Oh yes, Kitten, you don’t have to join Starclan to speak with us. You’re a medicine cat for Starclan’s sake! You can come and go as you please, all you have to do is close your eyes. That is, when you can find your way through the tunnels behind Moon Falls.”

“There are tunnels?”

Barkface cleared his throat. Cloudfeather shouldn’t have mentioned yet that. “Er, yes, but there’s time to explore when you're awake.”

“Yes Kitten, now you must pick your name.”

“You mean I get to choose? Really?” Honeypaw looked to Barkface.

“It wasn’t my idea, if I had a choice I would stick ‘pelt onto the end of every cat, but that’s just me.”

“May I suggest Honeyheart, Kitten?” Her mother suggested, but Honeypaw crinkled her nose in rejection.

“Don’t you worry. I have the perfect name picked out already.”




Honeycloud awoke with a sharp prodding in her side. "Oi, you're kickin' in your sleep, 'Hon." Foxpaw sighed, half- asleep.

“Sorry, Fox.” She whispered, and rose to her paws, catching sight of one green eye watching her.

“Where you goin’?” Her brother questioned, though he didn’t seem like he was going to make a move to stop her.

“To my new den.”

“What do you mean ‘your new den.’ Did you hit your head on the way back to camp, Honeypaw?”

“Honeycloud now. And no. You just happen to be looking at Mistralclan’s new medicine cat.” She said with pride.

“Okay, if you say so. Lemme know when you wake up from your sleep walking and wonder how you’ve gotten to Barkface’s old nest. Bet it still smells of the old coot-“ Honeycloud ignored him and was already walking out of the den. In the morning she would have to tell the clan about her new position, and suggest they try and send out a scout to Moon Falls as soon as possible. She won’t tell them why, of course. No, that wouldn’t be fun at all. Better to let them simmer in wonder.

This was going to be fun. My my, wouldn’t she be the ultimate tease?




reminiscing my cares away

Roleplayer: Jimmy


'til i realize what life's meant to be








i'm the pointless nostalgic - that's me - that's me