The idea of this one-shot comes from an anon on tumblr who got Smokepaw x Fluttering Bird on a "generate a random otp" thing I did, so this couple idea doesn't really belong to me, but I wanted to write something about them because they're too fucking cute okay like woah.

I imagine that Fluttering Bird died when she was about six-seven moons of age, and Smokepaw around eight, so. Not that big of an age gap between them physically, even if there is a giant one mentally.

This isn't StarClan.

From his mothers soft, mystical tales, Smokepaw's always expected rolling green hills, grass rippling in a pale hue in the beating sun, and a bright, clear sky above his head. His ancestors, deceased denmates from when he was a kit and it was just too cold, and the cats he's heard about from Nightwing's stories. He expects cheers, warmth, and just some kind of welcoming.

But this place is...is different.

It feels like being...stuck, for lack of a better word; as though Smokepaw is halfway between life and death, like a wounded ear hanging on the last tendons, seconds from being clawed off in a battle. His surroundings are not warm, yet they're not cold either; it's neutral, in a sense.

Smokepaw remembers his paws slipping against a cold, rocky surface, claws scrambling for purchase on the edge of the cliff that Nightwing had pleaded him to be careful on, to watch out for his surroundings just like his mentor had always taught him to, and then...nothing.

He's certain there was pain; he knows he tumbled down the cliff side, his small body catching along nooks and crannies on the sides but never catching his fall, only making it more and more painful for him.

"Are you lost?" He hears from his side; Smokepaw jolts when the soft, feminine voice sounds, and he whirls around. His eyes widen in shock and a slight amount of fear when he sees a tiny, fluffy brown molly; green eyes kind and genuine as she looks him up and down.

Smokepaw blinks; he's been trapped in this...place for what feels like a leafbare, wandering around and never finding any sign of salvation. It's the first time he's seen anyone here and, now, he finds that his throat is unused and dry with under use.

But the molly is staring at him, only a head shorter than him, with a waiting expression, and Smokepaw clears his throat.

"Is this StarClan?" he asks instead, flicking his ears back as he raises his head, staring at the foggy, starless sky above them. "I-I'm supposed to be there, not here," he tells her, looking back down at the solid-colored cat.

She nods. "Yeah, I know,"

Smokepaw recoils, blinking in shock at the small molly. She knows? She doesn't look like a StarClan cat; she's deceased, obviously, but her pelt lacks any stars to it. In fact, the molly looks...normal. As though the unhappiness and anger at her death doesn't affect her, like a thrush chick spreading it's wings and fluttering into the breeze for the first time.

She's strangely calm, while Smokepaw's fidgety and nervous and just, well, terrified at the prospect of being dead and having no idea where he is.

"StarClan sent me to help guide you," she continues, her calm and soft voice helping to soothe Smokepaw's nerves. "They're traveling to meet your Clans in their new home, and since you died in the journey, they want me to help your spirit there."

Smokepaw can't help but feel his heartbeat quicken, his body begin to tremble when he realizes what she's said; he's gone, far gone, from StarClan's eyes. His ancestors, they're traveling to a new ground, and he's...he's been left behind, just because he was too careless to listen to his mothers advice.

"Hey," the molly meows, blinking up at him in sympathy. "I know you're scared, but don't worry; this may be my first mission from StarClan, but I was stuck in an in-between like this before, too. Before my brothers left the mountains, I was stuck alone because half of my ancestors left to go with their kin and supervise them, and the other half stayed there. I guess there was no balance, or something, but one of my ancestors came and found me, and I got to StarClan!" She finishes enthusiastically, a curling across her muzzle.

Smokepaw frowns. "Who are you?"

She smiles, laughing softly and reaching out a small paw to tap his foreleg. "I was wondering when you were going to ask me that, you fidgety cricket," she tells him. "My name is Fluttering Bird, and before my brothers and tribe mates went to create your Clans, I was the last cat to die before they left."

"And...and you can help me get to StarClan?" he asks, tail swishing side to side. He's not one to trust cats he doesn't know, due to being a ShadowClan cat, through and through, but. He doesn't really have any options here, does he?

Fluttering Bird smiles. "Oh come on, just because I died young doesn't mean I don't know my direction!" She purrs, jerking her head in the direction behind her. "Now come on, uh...?" She cuts herself off, looking behind her; Smokepaw realizes that he hasn't said his name yet.

"My name is Smokepaw," he tells her, quietly.

"Well, Smokepaw, come on! We have a long journey ahead of us!"

I dub them "Smokebird", and I have no idea whether or not I should finish this.