This story contains, in lieu of ao3-style tags: original characters, character development, world building, world exploration, canon-typical language, angst with happy endings, rogues, loners, kittypets, implied/referenced past abuse (present day-MC does not experience any abuse or trauma except as an after effect of her past)

Hi everyone! Thanks for checking out my newest story! This is an exploration piece of one of the side characters in my Moth Rising story. However, it's written to work on its own and you don't need any knowledge of MR to understand what's going on.

As a note, this story largely takes place outside of the Clan territory and thus has very few Clan-specific plot elements or characters, as it aims to flesh out the vast world beyond the Clans. There is a plot, but it mainly serves as a backdrop to explore different styles of catlife. So, if you're looking for big Clan battles, prophecy drama, and forbidden relationships, I wish you luck but you should look elsewhere. But if you're looking for musings on the beliefs and values of rogues, loners, kittypets, then you've come to the right place!

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive

-Dog Days are Over, Florence + the Machine

The outside night air was cool and crisp, but inside the den was as warm and cozy as ever. Even though the other queen, Beechtail, had moved back to the warriors' den now that her kits - Specklepaw, Troutpaw, and Pricklepaw - had become apprentices, she and her kits had enough body heat to keep the nursery warm.

She wrapped her ginger tail around her three kits as they snuggled close. She pressed her nose to their foreheads, a purring rumbling from her chest as she breathed in their sweet kit-scent. Two ginger mollies and a silver tabby tom. They were already a few moons old, and weaned off of her milk; it wasn't long before they would leave the nursery forever and start their training to become warriors. She held them close, knowing these precious moments were fleeting and limited.

As she nuzzled the last one, he stirred and blinked at her with wide, yellow eyes.

"You're still awake, Smokekit?" she asked, her meow warm.

He stretched out his front paws – so large, would he ever grow into them? – and kneaded them into her side. He shoved his sisters out of the way to crawl closer to her. "Can you tell me a story?"

As he moved closer, his movements woke his sisters. The long-furred ginger molly with a white muzzle and flash on her chest headbutted her brother grumpily. "You woke me up." Beside her, her short-furred sister blinked open dark yellow eyes, staring in confusion.

"Mom's gonna tell us a story," the silver tom announced.

"Smokekit, the elders entertained you and your sisters with stories all afternoon. Or are you telling me I didn't hear Russetnose tell you the story of the fierce Tigerstar and how he died twice, trying to take over the Clans both in life and in death?" She pulled Smokekit close with her paw and pressed her face into his soft belly fur.

He squealed and pulled away, whiskers twitching indignantly. "Those were the stories Mothkit and Fernkit wanted. I wanted a story about Mothwing, the medicine cat who didn't believe in StarClan!"

"That's a dumb story," Fernkit protested, leaning over to glare at her brother. Squished in between them, their sister Mothkit scowled but didn't protest. "What kind of medicine cat doesn't believe in StarClan? Willowgaze made her up."

"Oh yeah? Like Tigerstar losing all nine of his lives at the paws of a rogue the size of a kitten is any more true? Or how he trained living cats in the Dark Forest after he died? Everyone knows dead cats can only talk to medicine cats and leaders," taunted Smokekit.

Fernkit stuck her tongue out, and Smokekit's eyes glinted playfully as he crouched down, wriggling his tail as he prepared to pounce. Still caught between them, Mothkit lay down and threw her paw over her eyes, resigning herself to losing more sleep.

Suddenly all-too-aware of the delicate calm in the nursery and how close it was to breaking, their mother shifted her body and pushed her front paw in between her kits, nudging them apart. "Kits, please. You can have more stories tomorrow."

"You promise?" Smokekit demanded, silvery fur bushed out.

She craned her neck to lick her tongue down his cheek, smoothing down his fluffed-up fur. "I promise."

"Okay." He settled down again, and after a heartbeat, so did his sisters, all of the adrenaline from mere heartbeats ago suddenly drained into the air like mist in sunlight. "I love you, Mom," he whispered, tucking his tail over his nose.

Her heart swelled to bursting as she gazed at her kits. "I love you, too."

As the ginger molly pushed through underbrush, flew over fields, and even dashed across twoleg thunderpaths, only one thought echoed through her mind: I have to keep going. I need to go farther. Her paws had stopped aching long ago; now they were numb from their constant beating against the hard ground underpaw.

She had run all night, and now it was past sunhigh. But she didn't dare stop. He would find her if she stopped.

Her surroundings blurred around her; where was she, anyways? The large, square blocks of twoleg houses had appeared out of nowhere, and with a jolt she realized that the ground underpaw was not the rippled, lumpy, soft loam of forest but the harsh, flat line of a thunderpath.

How long had she been running alongside it? Thankfully, this thunderpath was quiet, and she hadn't seen a monster going in either direction since she had gotten on – whenever that was, because she couldn't remember.

She slowed just enough to steer off of the thunderpath and onto a small strip of grass. The grass was separated by the thunderpath on one side and a smaller yet equally flat strip of the same hard material on the other. As she darted past the ugly, lanky form of a twoleg, she grunted in surprise. A smaller thunderpath for twologs? She shook her head. What will they think of next?

She shook her head again, this time to clear it. Even though her full out sprint had slowed to a brisk lope, her surroundings looked just as blurry. Were the twoleg dens melting?

The ground pitched beneath her paws, and she realized the problem wasn't the twoleg dens, but herself. She had been running for so long without stopping to breathe or drink water.

She stumbled. She couldn't stay out in the open. If she was going to die, she wouldn't be subjected to the poking and prodding of twolegs. She dragged herself under a too-perfectly-shaped bush before her legs collapsed and she fell to her side. She gazed at the branches above her blearily; did twolegs trim bushes now? what was next? Creating fires on purpose?

Her vision sparked white, and she didn't have to look at the horribly shaped bushes any longer. Thank the stars, she thought, thoughts fuzzy.

She felt a spark of victory in her chest. She may be dying, yes. But she was dying on her own terms. Not his, not the Clans', not anycat else's. Hers.

She reveled in this with a quiet, fierce pride until a fuzzy outline of a cat appeared. White still filled her vision, and she squinted. Was this a StarClan cat, come to take her to StarClan? Did they have power still, so far away from the Clans?

The catlike shape gasped and disappeared. She wondered vaguely where if she had dreamed it up as some sort of dying mirage to bring her comfort. But then it appeared again, and she felt something trickle into her mouth.

She gagged, but the catlike shape meowed something, clearly distressed. When she felt the trickle down her throat again, she swallowed, and found with relief that the small amount of water shocked her system and filled her with the fierce conviction to keep living.

Live to spite him. Live to spite every cat.

She opened her mouth, trying to ask for more, but her throat was too parched and nothing came out. Fortunately, the catlike shape moved closer, and more water tipped into her mouth.

After several more trickles of water, she coughed, and rolled onto her paws, and sat up. She blinked, and the white spots covering her vision faded away.

A round tortoiseshell cat gasped and sat up straighter. Half of their face was a striking ginger, and the other half a stark, clean white, with a sprinkling of dark brown spots across their face and down their gray back and sides. As she locked her green eyes on them, their own green eyes stretched wide. "Oh, goodness! You're alive! Well, I'll be! I've never seen a cat so close to death before!"

"What?" she croaked, her throat still hoarse.

"I said, I've never seen a cat so close to death before!" They stepped forward, nose twitching. Their mew sounded strange to her, so unlike the cats she grew up with around the lake. Their nonverbal cues were still the same – the same flick of the ears, the same twitch of the whiskers – but their mew was bizarre. It sounded like they were purposely lilting their meow. Was it a regional accent? Did all kittypets sound like this? Was she going mad?

The kittypet kept on talking. They seemed to like doing that. "You're not from around here, are you? Well, you picked the right yard to almost die in! My housefolk had just let me out for my evening constitutional when I smelled something strange. I went to investigate, and there you were! Thankfully, my water bowl was mostly full," they swept their tail over a shiny, hard disk with a round indentation in the middle, half-filled with water, "so I dragged it over here and dripped it into your mouth! I wasn't sure it would work, but it did!"

She shook her head. "Yeah. It did."

The tortoiseshell blinked, and their gaze softened. "I'm Maudlin. What's your name? Where are you from?"

"Wildstep." As she spoke, she sat up straighter. "I'm from… or I was from… it doesn't matter anymore. It's so far away."

"I'll say, if the way your pawpads look are any indication."

She glanced at her paws, surprised to see that her once pink-and-brown pawpads, kept soft and delicate from the soft pine needles that carpeted ShadowClan's floor, were red and bloody. She set her paw down, bracing herself so she didn't wince as her raw skin scraped against the dirt.

Maudlin nodded. "You said your name is Wildstep, huh? That's a strange name."

Wildstep frowned. She had turned her back on the Clans and everything they stood for, but her name had been given to her by ShadowClan's leader, Berrystar. She remembered her naming ceremony like it had happened yesterday: exhausted but glowing with pride, after she had stayed up all night scouring the forest, searching for Briarstreak's kits, Beechkit and Bravekit, after they had snuck out of camp and gotten lost. She had come home carrying the mewling Beechtail with her head held high, Bravekit trailing behind. Berrystar had been so impressed she had given her a warrior name right then, not even bothering to wait for the usual warrior assessment. She had earned it, fair and square.

Beechtail and Bravefeather had long since earned their own warrior names. He was even mentoring one of Beechtail's kits. She wondered if he would look for her as frantically as she had for Beechtail.

After realizing she wasn't going to respond, Maudlin rose to their paws. "We should take you to my housefolk! They'll patch you up! Maybe you can live with me afterwards! Wouldn't that be fun?"

Wildstep flicked her ear, suddenly weary. "What are housefolk?"

Maudlin's eyes stretched wide. "You don't know housefolk? You know, the tall hairless creatures? You can't go anywhere without seeing them. I live in their house." They motioned behind them to the large, blocky den.

"You mean a twoleg?" Wildstep shook her head. "No way. I'm not letting those creatures get anywhere near me. I'm not a stupid kittypet."

Maudlin stepped back. Wildstep clamped her jaw shut when she realized what she had just said.

"There's no need to be so rude, ma'am." The tortoisheshell flattened their ears. "Well, if you won't see my householk, at least let me get you something to eat."

Her stomach rumbled, and Wildstep nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Maudlin whisked their tail as they turned around, and they bounded across the grass and out of sight.

After they disappeared, Wildstep forced herself to check over her body. She chose to believe this strange kittypet didn't want to hurt her and was telling the truth when they said they would get her something to eat. She may as well make herself presentable while she waited.

She ran her tongue down her sides, smoothing off layers of dirt and grime. She nibbled at rocks and grit stuck in between her toes, and swiped her paws over her ears. Her body still ached with every movement, and she felt even more exhausted after she was done, if that was possible, but at least she was recognizable as herself again.

By the time she finished, Maudlin stuck their head underneath the bush again, carrying something in their mouth that made Wildstep's mouth water. "You clean up nicely!" they mewed as they dropped the food at their feet. "I never would've guessed you were a ginger underneath all that muck, and I certainly never would have guessed that you had a white belly or paws!" They laughed, as if they had made some outrageous comment.

"Thanks," she meowed dryly.

Maudlin rolled the tantalizing-smelling food towards her. It was round and long, and smelled like nothing she had ever smelled before. A soft, warm heat emanated off of it. "What is this?"

"Meat," Maudlin answered. "As the days get longer and warmer, my housefolk like to spend time outside and cook food on these strange boxes. Cooking food is heating it up with fire," they explained, when Wildstep stared at them without comprehension. "It's the only way housefolk know how to eat meat. They're silly like that, aren't they? And when the nights are longest, if the night is clear, after they're done cooking their food they'll shoot brightly colored stars up into the sky."

"They can't shoot stars," Wildstep protested.

Maudlin shrugged. "They do. Come on, eat. You'll feel better."

Wildstep crouched down and nudged the food with her nose. She opened her mouth to take a bite, and before she knew it she had inhaled the entire thing.

"Hungry, aren't you?" Maudlin laughed. "My housefolk will be on alert now that I've stolen one, but if we wait until they're done eating, I can sneak off with their leftovers. Rest a while, and I'll bring more."

"I can't stop now," she protested, but her eyelids sagged. She told her body to get up, but against her will she found herself slowly reclining back onto the ground. "I have to keep going."

"You'll have plenty of time to get to wherever you're going," Maudlin promised. "But later."

She slept for the rest of the day, cloaked in strange, tense dreams shot through with fear and anxiety. By the time she woke up, the sky was darkening a deep, heavy violet. She wondered if the dreams were a bad omen sent by StarClan. Could they see her, even now, so far away from ShadowClan? Would they send him in her direction? If they were watching, they had to know she didn't want to be found. Did that matter to them? Or was all that mattered losing one of their own?

Or maybe they were watching, but they didn't care. Or maybe they weren't watching at all.

The air was heavy and wet, and carried a dampness that could only mean it would rain soon. Rain was good. Rain would cover her tracks and make it harder for him to track her down.

The subtle thud of paws on grass alerted her to Maudlin's presence. The tortoisheshell dropped another slab of meat, this one flat and round, at her paws, which she was more than happy to gobble down. Nothing would beat the taste of freshly-killed rabbit, but she was so hungry that even this burnt meat (seriously: cooked meat? Who does that?) tasted good to her parched tongue.

Rain started to speckle the earth, and Maudlin crawled underneath the bush. They pushed up against Wildstep, their warm, solid presence comforting. "I'm sorry to say there won't be any colored stars tonight," Maudlin meowed, and Wildstep was surprised to hear that they sounded genuinely sad. "The rain will stop them."

Wildstep shook her head. "Twolegs are always up to no good."

"My housefolk have always taken good care of me," they answered, but there was no bite to their meow. "They would help you, if you would let them."

"A warrior can take care of herself."

"A warrior?" Maudlin repeated. "Is that what you are?"

Wildstep tucked her paws underneath her, and her stomach twisted. She had already said too much. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why do you talk like that?"

"Talk like what?" Maudlin twitched their whiskers in amusement.

"Strangely. Like you're trying to talk weird. Do all kittypets do that?"

They laughed. "No, just me, I'm afraid. I used to live somewhere very far away from here. All of the cats talked like this where I came from. One day my housefolk put me in a monster for many hours, and when they let me out, here we were! I've lived here ever since."

"That must be sad, forced away from your family like that."

"You're not with your family now, either." Maudlin shrugged. "Cats don't typically live with their family all their lives. It was sad that I didn't get to say goodbye, but it's fine. I have plenty of friends here now. Including you!"

Wildstep ignored their pointed comment and settled down, resting her chin on her white paws.

Maudlin pressed against her and nestled their chin on her spine. Wildstep's fur, naturally spiky, clumped up right in front of the tortoisheshell's nose, and their breath tickled. "Come on," Maudlin prompted, eyes twinkling with good nature. "I've told you all about my story. Now you tell me yours!"

"I…" Wildstep hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Maudlin about herself. The less she told about herself, the more forgettable she was. If she told this kittypet her entire life story, there was no chance that they wouldn't be able to tell him all about her.

But at the same time, they had been kind to her, though they didn't have to. A story was as good a price as any. Perhaps she should be thankful they hadn't asked for more. "What do you want to know?"

"Where do you come from, and why do you want to go so far away?" the question came so quickly that it was clear it had been burning at the tortoiseshell all day.

Wildstep cleared her throat. "The first part is easy. I was born by a lake, a day's travel from here. maybe two, if you don't run the whole way. Around the lake live five Clans, each lead by a cat. We live by a code, commanding us to take care of our youngest and oldest, and we have a medicine cat, who heals us when we are sick and speaks to our warrior ancestors for guidance. When times are good, we share resources and gossip freely. When they aren't…" She trailed off. "The five Clans are called SkyClan, ThunderClan, WindClan, RiverClan, and ShadowClan. That's where I come from. We lived in a pine forest and hunted at night, and could blend into the shadows until we were little more than shadows ourselves."

Maudlin's eyes grew round, and they glittered as their imagination clearly ran wild. Their tail curled tight, and they wriggled with anticipation. "What happened next? What could possibly make want to you leave? Or did they kick you out?"

Wildstep's heart panged as she stared into those innocent, wide eyes. Smokekit used to look at her like that when she spun stories about the legends of the Clans. They were just that, legends, but he wanted so badly for them to be true. Just like then, she'd tell a half-lie. Maudlin would sleep easier at night not knowing the full truth. "No. I chose to leave. I needed to see what lay beyond the lake. I had to take matters into my own paws." She knew she was risking too much, but now that she wasn't focused on running, her thoughts were full of them, and she couldn't help but add, "Leaving my kits behind was the hardest choice I've ever had to make. But it was the right choice." She hoped.

"You left your kits!" Maudlin gasped. "I could never do that."

She flattened her ears and her fur bristled, despite her best attempts to lay it flat. "You left your friends and family, too," she meowed flatly.

"Yes, but kits!" Maudlin echoed. "Imagine that! You could have brought them with you and you could have all had adventures together! But now here you are, exploring the world, and your kits will never know what lives beyond the lake."

Wildstep growled.

They shook their head. "Never mind all that, then. We should go to sleep. Things will look better in the morning. I need to sleep inside, or my housefolk will worry about me. But don't leave this bush! Tomorrow we can do some exploring of our own. There's plenty of fun to be had around here, you'll see. I can introduce you to Mama! You'd like Mama. She's a crankly old molly, but she's jolly when she's in a good mood."

"That sounds like fun." Wildstep braced herself as she told her second lie of the night: "I'll see you in the morning."

Maudlin pressed their nose to Wildstep's and bounded back to their twoleg den, squeezing inside a small hole in the wall of the den and disappearing from sight. Wildstep sighed and closed her eyes.

She dozed fitfully, awoken once or twice by the loud, rolling thunderstorm overhead, but remained mostly dry, if a bit cold, throughout the night. She crawled out of the bush in the early dawn, as the rain lightened from a downpour to a light sprinkle. She wished there was more she could do to repay Maudlin, and her stomach twisted when she thought of how crushed the kittypet would be to wake up and find her gone. They had been rude, but at least they had been kind, freely offering food, water, and shelter.

She had to get as far away from Maudlin as possible. If he came looking for her, Maudlin couldn't tell him where she had gone.

Her paws ached with bruises as she padded out of the lawn and back onto the small monsterpath.

Thanks for checking it out, and I'll post more soon - probably around once a week. This will probably end up at 6 or 7 chapters based on my current outline, though of course it's all liable to change. I will include proper credits when I get there, but I will be incorporating some concepts from an old fic that I fell in love with then I first found the world of Warriors fanfic back in 2009. So be on the lookout for that! :P Keeping in time with the 2009 vibes, I hope to include song lyrics that inspired my writing at the beginning of every chapter. Let's see if I can keep that up!

As always, thanks to my pal Shay (ao3 user FloatingVampireJesus) for looking this over!

Enjoy!