April Gathering 2020

Crowspirit turned to look at Spotlake, steely resolve in his gaze. “Then I’ll die for a worthy cause.” Then it happened. The starry WindClanner spoke. Then Softpaw was put into a slumber, and Finchstar... Finchstar! He rushed forward, not wanting to believe it. Galestar had disappeared, and he had no chance to enact any sort of revenge. But no breath stirred in his leader, and he cast a panicked gaze around, quickly turning to anger as he yowled.

“Curse the stars! Curse every last one of you! Curse your mothers and fathers before you! I won’t follow any of you, no matter the cost. After this, how could I? If it takes my dying breath, I’ll take down every last one of you personally! And then I’ll finish my work as one of you!” His screams were a flurry of emotion, anger, grief, heartbreak, shock, all directed at these StarClanners who had taken away his beloved leader. At a Gathering, no less, when peace was supposed to be enacted.

Ravenmist didn’t know what had happened. First everyone was yowling, and then it was quiet. Quiet until a WindClan warrior yowled, in anger. She guessed what had happened, but she didn’t want to make assumptions until her fears were confirmed. So she turned her head to Raventail, beside her, hoping and yet dreading affirmation.

Willowpaw gasped in shock as the starry she cat pressed her nose to Softpaw’s and sent her to a deep slumber. Then, her breath caught in her throat as Galestar touched noses with Finchstar and Willowpaw knew that Galestar was taking his lives away. As Finchstar crumpled to the ground, Willowpaw’s pelt prickled with fear, anger and shock. StarClan had killed a leader. Just like that. Just by touching noses. Just by touching noses, the former leader had taken away lives. 


Streampaw shuddered as Finchstar crumpled onto the ground. StarClan had taken his lives away with a simple touch. What could they do with the other cats if they could kill a leader so easily?

Maplepaw was furious.  She got up and stood beside her father.  "If you want what's best for the WindClan, why do you kill our leader in front of us!"  She yowled  "If this is part of the code, I want no part in it!"  

Galestar carried out her bidding with grace and dignity that Badgerstar admired. She had done well for their cause. He firmly believed that despite their protests, the clan cats would soon fall in line. They faced certain death, otherwise.

"We've made our point abundantly clear," he said simply to the others still remaining. "Let us go, and leave them to their grief and 'uprisings.' It won't last long. Just a little more time. They'll see another leader fall to our claws."

The Righteous Ones disappeared, fading from the clearing in a flurry of bleak stars.

---

Aspenheart could not move when Galestar approached Softpaw. He rose, just a little, panicked and flighty, but he found himself with a sudden inability to wrench his paws from the ground. What could he do, on his wobbling legs or cowardly heart? She spoke gently and kindly to his apprentice, like an old queen who wished to discipline, but was far too old to strike out in a cuff. She touched her nose to little Softpaw, and she fell like a stone. All Aspenheart could do was cry out, a strangled and empty sound as his large ears swung back behind his ears. Galestar carried his apprentice to him, and he saw an odd compassion in her eyes. The starry cat laid her body down at Aspenheart's side. Softpaw breathed. Aspenheart let out a final shuddering breath and collapsed over his beloved student, shielding her unmoving body. "Oh, you poor, crazy cat," he whispered, rubbing his face across his apprentice's head. "All of you... you're going to get us torn to shreds."

When he looked up next, Galestar addressed the masses... and Finchstar. She was bluffing.

She turned to face him. She was bluffing.

She touched her nose to his. She was bluffing.

He fell. She wasn't.

Aspenheart's vision began to fuzz around the edges as unadulterated chaos broke out in the clearing. The StarClan cats were gone. His suspicions, though founded in realistic thought, were proven wrong. Only StarClan could strip a cat of their lives as quickly as Galestar had. That was divine wrath. That was Finchstar's death... gone, another casualty in a war they wouldn't win. Aspenheart's throat hurt, and it suddenly came to him that he was screaming, screaming as loud as his heart could take. He had this strange and eerie feeling that the sun would not rise again, nor would it set. That kind of thing, beautiful and grand on the silent moor, was not possible, and not allowed to exist, without Finchstar to share it with. He kept screaming. His brain began to short-circuit with confusion and terror. To protect Softpaw or storm towards Finchstar's body?

His breaths came in more heaving, weakened gasps, and the floor began to undulate beneath him. Where was he, again? He felt too weak to stand. Finchstar... Wait... I'm coming... Don't go without me. Aspenheart relaxed his body protectively over Softpaw's and shut his eyes to the world as it spun around him.

Finchstar, don't go yet. This is no place to die. Raventail will take us home. Please... just wait... one more sunrise...

As WindClan swarmed around the tom, Finchstar only looked on with the same coolness in his eyes that had carried him through life itself. Their words seemed to bolster his heart, and he remembered long ago - when Barleytuft had told him that his clan cared for him as much as Finchstar cared for his clan. The bringer of loved was loved just as well. It sparked tears in his eyes as he peered from the Great Rock, a bittersweet smile crowning his maw. "WindClan, I love you all." He rasped, his heart pounding for each and every soul that shouted his name. Never did Finchstar imagine it would end like this, his optimism had been too blind, but this was okay. There was joy even in death, and there was no greater love than sacrifice. It was the tom's song, his very purpose for living. In the beginning, he had loved for Brookclover, and now, he loved for his clan. Nor death nor StarClan could take that blessing away from those he cared for. Finchstar would walk to the end of the earth for those who gazed upon him now. His heart swelled with joy as he knew deep down, he had fought until his last breath. In his mind, he had served a good term. He had yowled for love and fallen by its bedside in the end. He smiled as Galestar stripped his lives away, knowing she could take his breath, but not the meaning behind it.

Those who had given him his joy, his fire, they resided in the stars - ones who had not been tainted by xenophobia and closed-minded views. There was a longing stronger than death itself, and Finchstar did not fear as the darkness closed in. He had grown since his time as leader. No longer was he the cool, smiling tom, playing the game of conversation. Today, he was Finchstar, forever bluffing in the name of those he loved. A smirk graced his maw as he said goodbye for the last time, knowing that his final death would not be in vain. It was purposeful, a chance for StarClan to think they'd won. But love was not just Finchstar. Love resided in WindClan as well. It did not start with him and it did not end with him. He was simply a vessel for its grace. But Raventail held such a thing as well, as did Clovertwist, Aspenheart, all that he loved so dear. StarClan could never purge the lands of it, and that is why he smiled now.

Finchstar had fulfilled his purpose, the longing in his bones finally meant its end. He wished for Brookclover the moment she left him, he knew to never fear death as it would bring him to her side. The tom dug his claws into the stone as his yellow eyes gazed jokingly up to Galestar as he crumpled under her feet. You play a good game, 'star. But we've been winning since the dawn of time. He'd speak if his strength would let him, but Finchstar knew the tabby could catch the words by the utter ferocity of his gaze. There was a fire in love, one that burned and seared and tore at his pelt. He loved the pain, he'd learned to embrace the hurt that caring could bring. And now, Finchstar wore it on his shoulder, a shining beacon. A martyr for what he stood for, he was proud to die for a cause. And there was no fear, there was only a contentedness that wrapped around his heart. Finchstar's face twisted into one of sorrow and joy as he transitioned into the darkness. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he floated into the stars. He chuckled with utter euphoria, flying like the bird of his namesake. He was free like the loners he cherished. He was unbound, untied, and now he was with those who had clutched his heart in the beginning. Between the silvery grasses stood one whos beauty could not be matched. Her fur was russet red, red like the blood Finchstar had spilled in her name. Her eyes were as green as the moor, the same green which had tugged on his heartstrings since kithood. And her face was loving, ever loving, as beautiful as every flower to ever bloom upon the forest. Finchstar sucked in a hearty breath and ran to her side, pressing his head into hers. Nor life nor death could keep them apart. She was his bride, his beautiful purpose, his very lifeblood. As you wish, as you wish, Finchstar would say. Those three words could command him to the ends of the forest, and as he thought them now, they sunk into his heart and he smiled. It was a perfect smile, a handsome one that only a lover could grace.

His mate was not dead, her love lived in Raventail, in Aspenheart, in all the cats Finchstar left behind. And now he would join her, loving endlessly from above, covering StarClan's sins with an unconditional caring that they shared. He would stay in the stars to grace all those below. It was his calling, his song. He was someone to stay, he'd be the cat to bless each and every new kit. He'd cry as clanmates died, he'd rejoice as warriors were made, and he would fight for love as if he were living. Here, among the silver forest, he was free, but his heart would always be tied to the moors which had birthed him. He was Finchstar, the cat with a windy heart. And he was happy. His maw parted from that of his lover as she spoke his name, every star aligning with one another. His journey was complete. Every question found its answer as her voice - sweet as honey - now graced his ears.

"Finchstar."

"Brookclover."

Goldengale watched in horror as the one they called Galestar stooped to meet her nose to her sisters, and just like that she dropped. "No!" She yowled, pushing her way through to Aspenheart's side and pressing her nose to Softpaw's side, relieved and a bit surprised to feel it still moving. When she looked back up, Galestar was already pressing her nose to Finchstar's, and the dignified body of the leader that she had known her whole life, who had led her and her clanmates through it all, who she had fought desperately to save, fell. Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out the sounds of protest and dismay around her as she stared. Galestar deposited Finchstar's body upon the ground and disappeared, the other starry leaders not far behind. Finchstar was just asleep, like Softpaw. That's all, Softpaw was alive, so was Finchstar. It only made sense. A hysterical, choked chuckle escaped her as she looked to Aspenheart, regarding him with a distant, spaced out look on her face. "Go to him, wake him up. This is no time for rest. I'll see to Softpaw." He couldn't be gone.

---

So intent was Dappleshine on Vixenstar and the other star-pelted leaders that seemed to weave around the gathered cats that she almost didn't notice the smallest one suddenly move to be in front of Finchstar. How had she moved so quickly? Just moments ago she was on the ground.... In slow motion, the queen heard the words from Galestar's maw before Finchstar fell to the ground, an odd smile on his face. Her fur stood on end as she stared at the tom who had accepted her with open paws when even her father had turned his back on her, and Aspenheart's scream started as the other terrible starry leaders dissipated. Dappleshine was terrified, Finchstar had fallen so much faster than she could have ever imagined. She had heard of Torrentstar's and Thornstar's deaths, but they had seemed so much more... violent. This was almost more terrifying - there wasn't even a struggle. Her gaze rose from Finchstar's body to her mate, standing at the base of Greatrock, a low whine escaping between her teeth. What were they supposed to do now?

Turning to Dacedream and her grandkits, Dappleshine struggled to hide the terror and dismay, the grief and turmoil in her expression. Her blue eyes met her daughter's, and after a heartbeat she stepped forward to envelop her minnow in an embrace, laying her tail and opposite paw on either side of her to reach Vixenpaw and Cherryblossom. "My beloveds, please be safe. I can't lose you too. Dacedream, my minnow, my love, I'll see you at the next Gathering. I love you, so very, very much. I must go, for now. Take care, my darlings, I'll see you again soon." Stepping back, she looked once more at her newly found grandkits and her daughter, Oakstar's promise to her echoing in her ears. They'll be safe in ThunderClan, he promised her. They'll keep them safe, she was certain of that. Turning, she moved through the crowd until she reached Raventail's side, touching her nose to his shoulder gently to show that she was at his side. Being closer was not much easier.

---

Mossbloom couldn't do much other than stand frozen in place, watching in horror as the Righteous Few, as they called themselves, carried out their business. In what seemed like moons, but also mere heartbeats, Finchstar was dead. WindClan was left without a leader, just like that, and the ancestors were gone. When was the last time she had taken a breath? Her eyes turned up to Oakstar, searching for guidance, reassurance, anything. Was this really StarClan? Is this really what they were doing? Had all her moons of faith and training been wrong? What was going on? Shakily, she turned to the remaining medicine cats, taking a breath. The air felt so much colder than it had just a little while before... She looked around at them before her head lowered, unable to find any words. She wanted to reassure them, but she could find no way to reassure herself, let alone them as well.

Pain shot through Briarthorn as the StarClan tom smacked him over the head. Colors flashed in front of his eyes as he collapsed to the ground. He started to open his eyes, but closed them immediately. Everything was spinning, spinning. Aspenheart and Clovertwist rushed over, Briarthorn could hear them talking. "I-I'm okay. Just a little dazed." Everything stopped spinning, and Briarthorn got shakily to his feet. He sat down between the Medicine Cat and his half-brother, scowling at all the StarClan cats, but especially Brakenstar. He listened as the Righteous few continued talking, but stood back up as the order was given to strike Finchstar down. "N-no! you can’t just-!"

The WindClan leader said that he would take it, and then Softpaw, the young Medicine Cat apprentice asked them to strike her down instead. Then Galestar touched her nose to softpaw, and she fell limp. She didn’t… Did she? No. She was just sleeping. The StarClan cat then touched her nose to Finchstar, stripping him of all his remaining lives. “NO!” The leader crumpled to the ground, and then was placed at the base. Then they just vanished.

Briarthorn rushed over to Finchstar, he wanted to believe that he was still alive, but it didn’t take Medicine Cat experience to know that he was dead.“You FOXHEARTS!” He yowled at the stars, tears streaming down his face. “You speak of peace and truth, but bring only death and lies! Why...Why?!” He knew why, but it wasn’t a good reason. This great leader, who he had accompanied to receive his lives after the flood, was dead. Gone. Just like Badgerthorn, Graybriar, and Barlytuft. There was too much death! Briarthorn couldn't take it anymore. His head hung low as he sobbed next to Finchstar's unmoving body. It shouldn't have ended like this...

Foxspirit stared at her leader's body as it crumpled to the ground. “No…” She said, a barely audible whisper. She couldn't move. Her eyes were fixed on the unmoving body at the base of the Great Rock. Tears filled her eyes. He was such an amazing leader... Foxspirit looked over at Raventail, he was now the leader of WindClan. Her forest green eyes conveying the message, What do we do now?

Olivestone, still reeling from the compliment about her mentoring from one of the Righteous Few, held her breath as Galestar put Softpaw to sleep, and all of the breath left her body when she climbed onto the Great Rock, touched her nose to Finchstar's, and the tom's body crumpled. She didn't have it in her to scream as the others had, and she just bowed her head, pulled Morningpaw and Ferretdance close, and closed her eyes as Galestar brought Finchstar's lifeless body to the ground to be seen by all.
I don't want to see it.

She felt tears welling up behind her eyelids, but she just let them drip down her face onto the ground below. She didn't open her eyes to see the five starry leaders dissolve into thin air, leaving nothing but a glimmer that too, disappeared.
May StarClan receive him well.

---

A gasp left Redpaw's mouth as one of the only few non-ShadowClan cats that she'd respected was stripped of life, right before her eyes. Subconsciously, she drew Smokepaw and Viperpaw closer, watching as the WindClan representative of the Righteous Few brought Finchstar's body down to the ground. Then, as their deed was done, the five StarClan cats vanished, leaving no trace behind.

---

Cherryblossom pressed closer into Dacedream's pelt as she watched the scene unfold before her, having nearly a front-row seat to the tom's death. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Galestar as she presented Finchstar's body to the crowd, and when the five disappeared, she couldn't bring herself to look away from the former WindClan leader's crumpled shape in the middle of the clearing.

Clovertwist nodded as he heard Raventail speaking up as well from the base of the Great Rock. He could hear the anxiety in the deputy's voice, but despite his more timid nature he protested, citing StarClan's absences where Finchstar had been there to provide for them. Clovertwist curled his lip slightly as he glared at the starry cats once more. How dare any of them say such things? They saw everything - if they had seen how Finchstar had left them and longed to keep leaving, then they had clearly seen how he continued to stay. He was their leader and he was acting like it! The screeching of a familiar voice startled Clovertwist from his thoughts and caused an even greater pit to widen in his stomach. Softpaw!

The pale tabby addressed Galestar with a ferocity that made Clovertwist sick. The warrior cried out a desperate, "No, Soft, stop it!" as his younger brother also yowled with fear. Clovertwist snarled hearing the rest of Softpaw's statement, now so terrified that he was almost livid. "No, no, nobody needs to die! Stop making deals, this is all wrong!" he howled. The starry WindClan leader regarded Softpaw with patronizing pity; the way she lowered her head towards his sister made Clovertwist spit. Before he could begin to try to intervene, Galestar had touched her nose to Softpaw's, and the little tabby slumped to the ground. Clovertwist's stomach dropped into his heart, and he stood frozen as the she-cat delivered his limp sister to Aspenheart a short distance away.

Galestar was not done moving, though. Before he could blink she had flickered through the crowd and was atop the Great Rock. Clovertwist gasped and was full of dread then. "Get away from him!" he yowled up, but no response. She spoke to Finchstar; he didn't hear the words that she said. In slow motion, Clovertwist started trying to move to the Rock, but it was too late. Finchstar's body collapsed when Galestar touched her nose to his, only there was something even more eerie about the way he fell - something more... permanent. Galestar removed him from the Great Rock and set his ginger-and-white body on the ground, and by the time Clovertwist reached his side she - and all the StarClan cats - were gone.

Clovertwist collapsed at his motionless leader's side at the base of the rock, stunned. "Finchstar," Clovertwist meowed in a quavering voice. No response. He raised his voice and cried, "Finch! Finch, wake up!" Nothing. Clovertwist could hear the clearing exploding around him, but he registered nothing but Finchstar's silence. No breath. No blinking. Clovertwist pressed his paws into Finchstar's side, nudging him. "Finch? Please don't go. You can't." He fell silent again, ignoring how weak and shameful he must look to the rest of the Clans.

His leader, his mentor, had just died, and he'd been more than useless.

Flintstar sat in silence on the Great Rock, eyes tracking The Righteous Few as a couple more cats called out in defiance of their demands. He did not care much for what they had to say - one or two cats offering their lives to spare Finchstar, both WindClan cats by the looks of it. WindClan business what not his affair, he only cared in the moment if his Clanmates were in danger. He watched with tense muscles as finally The Righteous Few started to move - one of the she-cats stepping toward the apprentice who had offered her life. His ears twitched as he watched the StarClan cat touch noses with the young she-cat...Before she crumbled to the ground without a word. His eyes widen, straightening up a bit. They had been so violent with Thornstar, he had expected it to be all that they knew. But it didn't seem that they had killed the apprentice - instead he barely caught her chest rising and falling as her mentor shifted to tend to her. Then, the StarClan cat's gaze had shifted onto the rock.

Within a heartbeat, she was with the leaders. Flintstar shifted away, a soft snarl escaping his throat but her attention was not on them...Only on Finchstar, who stood proudly before her. His words echoed in the ShadowClan leader's ears - a demand that they kill him themselves. ...Ah. He blinked as he listened to the she-cat speak, her voice filled with...Pity, almost, if Flintstar was able to judge the emotion right. There was a tinge of something - of regret or an illusion of it, at least - that flavored her words as she went on. . It was hard for Flintstar to pin down as he listened to her, of her promising Finchstar to give him a death that would not be granted to WindClan - a swift and merciful one. And with another nose touch, the leader fell. Flintstar flinched as the WindClan leader struck the ground. He watched, frozen in fear and surprise as the StarClan grabbed the leader's body and dragged him from the rock to lay him down below, ears twitching as another one of the Righteous Few spoke... And then they were gone.

He straightened up, his gaze snapping around to make sure that no traces - other than the two fallen cats - of them remained before he leap down from the Great Rock. He would not mourn for Finchstar - the tom had told StarClan to do it themselves and they had done so. He had stood bravery, but he was gone. All lives stolen as Thornstar's had been. "Smokepaw! Viperpaw!" The leader bellowed as he landed, sprinting forward as he headed toward where he had seen his brother - and sister, although she hadn't seemed so keen on it - stand against the StarClan cats. "Briarpaw! Freckleface! Are you all alright?" he called out for the other two she-cats, whiskers twitching as he tried to search the crowd for them but kept his path toward the ones who had actually spoke against the Stars.

As he reached where Smokepaw, Viperpaw and Redpaw were standing, he ducked his head to press himself against the pelt of his half-siblings. Idiots. Brash, foolish idiots. What was Smokepaw thinking - speaking so vocally against the cat who had slain their mother? He knew the anger in his brother, it felt so similar to the one that Thornstar had held but... It was his job to protect his family - he had already lost enough with Poppyheart, Frostpaw and Thornstar. He didn't want to lose any more if he could help it. "You are foolish," he muttered as he raised a paw to draw Smokepaw closer to him, resting his chin on his brother's head. "...But you are brave. You are certainly a Thornstar kit," he scoffed as he swished his tail to curl around Viperpaw.

He stayed like that for a couple heartbeats, not caring for his rather rare display of public affection being witnessed by all the Clans. His family was safe, for now. There was much thinking to be done, of how he...Felt about The Righteous Few. Of their demands. It was muddied, that was for certain. Those who had spoken up were right - this was not the StarClan they knew. Demanding the other leaders slay Finchstar for crimes against the Stars. He did not want to be their claws, he wanted to protect ShadowClan and did not appreciate the games that The Righteous Few seemed keen on playing. But how he would move going forward seemed confusing, as their wrath was clear with how quickly they had slain Finchstar - and he knew well that the leader was dead. Thornstar had lost all her lives just as quickly, he doubted StarClan was playing around to only take the half-measure.

...This was not something to be mused on here thought. He finally drew himself away from his siblings, getting to his paws as he raised his voice. "ShadowClan! We are leaving," he said, taking another glance at the state of the Gathering. How quickly everything had fallen apart... A leader dead in what was suppose to be a moment of peace. At least the blood was not on the claws of the Clans, but only the Stars themselves. "I...Am sorry for the loss, WindClan. I may not have agreed with Finchstar, but he did not deserve to die here. He was a brave cat, standing up like he did against them. I wish you all well...And that the Stars may be kind to all of us," he sighed as he swished his tail for his Clanmates to gather and following. "We will need it..." With that, he turned and slowly trotted from the clearing. He would not admit it, but there was the slightest bit of anger in him at Finchstar's death. For a couple reasons - one that the tom did not deserve it. He was a good leader, for all of his talk. He was brave. But also, just perhaps...Flintstar was angry at his peaceful and quick death. Something that Thornstar had not gotten from the Stars.

Something, he suspect that the Stars would not grant to any of them...Not just WindClan.

She'd seen it coming, of course- ever since the starry-pelted cats appeared in the Gathering, something within Morningpaw had told her- There will be blood tonight. She'd just... chosen to ignore it, hoping, praying, that there could be another way, that these predators from above might listen to reason, that her appeals to their hearts might ring true-- but as Galestar stepped up to the Great Rock, as Finchstar stared her down with that telltale gleam of good-humored loyalty to his clan in his eyes--

Oh, she knew what would happen, but that doesn't make it any easier now, does it? The apprentice let out a choked sob, a half-gasp of fury and loss; all of WindClan had adored Finchstar, but Morningpaw had practically revered the leader from even her first days as a kit. He was an icon, a living, walking, breathing saint- and now, a martyr, who had willingly given his life to protect his Clan. And these awful beasts that called themselves Righteous would dare suggest he was anything less than loyal? A tear rolled down the apprentice's cheek-fur as she pressed herself close to her mentor, shaking but not looking away for a moment.

Torrentstar and Thornstar's deaths were events. They had happened, and of course, she grieved for RiverClan and ShadowClan, but learning of them hadn't affected her like this- she hadn't even met Torrentstar or Thornstar, let alone looked up to them as a paragon, an idol, a hero- but Finchstar? Finchstar's death was real.

She couldn't save Torrentstar and Thornstar- she hadn't even known until it was too late. And no matter how hard Morningpaw had tried, she couldn't save Finchstar either. The ThunderClan warrior (Bat-something, she thought?) had been right- the Righteous Few was not there to reason.
She couldn't save any of them. But as Finchstar breathed his last breath, and the Righteous Few left the Gathering, Morningpaw was left with a single, resolute thought piercing through her mind-

Not one more.

She pulled away from Olivestone and Ferretdance, murmured; "I'll be back," and disappeared into the crowd.

Daisypaw’s claws dug into the ground as yet another leader died. First Shadowclan, Riverclan, now Windclan. Would they get rid of Spottedstar next? Or her father? Oakstar? She knew he hadn’t been feeling well lately, but she desperately hoped nothing bad would happen.

Applepaw’s eyes widened, he shrunk down as the leader was killed.

Cedarpaw let out a hiss. She hadn’t known Finchstar, only seen him at gatherings, but she was angry for these “Righteous” cats for killing the leader. ”Look, we can’t let this happen anymore.” she mewed. ”This needs to stop! We cannot have more deaths!” she looked around at everyone. ”We must do something!”

Strom could only watch as other cats stepped forward, their voices crying out as whoever the Dark Stars these cats were pranced around the clearing, threatening each Clan and spitting contempt before finally ordering Finchstar's death. What?! He longed to call out, to join the voices already ringing through the clearing, but his jaw stayed clamped shut, teeth gritted together. The son of Starlord, a Clan-deserter, had no place speaking here. The moment he opened his mouth they would turn on him, bringing him forward as the worst example.

And so he stood beside his mate, a rumble of agreement his only sound as her words joined theirs. She's right. Even if I did speak out, would they listen? Even if he was the purest of cats, the most perfect cat to ever walk the territories, they wouldn't listen, would they? They didn't listen even when cats from the "pure" Clan stepped forward, demanding reason.

He watched as the small she-cat with honeyed words - probably the one out of them all with the most heart, though that wasn't saying much - stepped over to a WindClan apprentice, her nose touching theirs, the little molly falling. His muscles tensed as she turned to the leader of WindClan, and a dread rose up his spine, lifting the fur in spikes. Torn in two, he stayed still, mute, as her nose touched the ginger-and-white tom, his eyes unable to turn away, his ears unable to shut. The scene was almost familiar:

a ginger-patched tom, his eyes alight with a faint amusement and love, but locked in determination as he raced across the rocky ground to fight the dogs tearing them apart, before another form crashed into him, tearing the life from his pelt with a single snap of iron jaws.

Here a ginger-patched tom, his expression eerily similar, faced down a leader from StarClan, and crumpled with dignity as her nose touched his, a faint smile on his maw as the breath fled his body.

There was noise. Strom could hear it, distantly. He turned his head from the scene on the rock, gritting his teeth at the maelstrom of emotions churning under his pelt. Screams, yowls, all of them suddenly tearing at his ears as they flattened. A bitter taste rose in his mouth - disgust. Disgust at himself for doing nothing, saying nothing, and disgust at the foxhearts who called themselves the Righteous Few.

He felt like shutting his eyes, and pretending he couldn't hear.

---

Swansong felt a flicker of hope as others called out, tensely waiting as the star-furred five stood, simply listening for the most part. Her eyes turned to a black-furred she-cat from ThunderClan who stepped forward, her words not aimed at the Righteous Few but those speaking out. Her heart argued with the molly's statement - maybe it's true, but if we don't speak up, there's no chance at all - but as they stood, she felt a flicker of doubt. Their eyes gave nothing away, those glowing, uncaring eyes that thought more of a collection of words than individual lives.

And she was right.

Swansong stepped forward again, alarm flickering in her eyes as Galestar touched her nose to the WindClan medicine cat apprentice, the she-cat crumpling at the paws of the one who had seemed the most reasonable. "What are you...."

Her words trailed off with a cold feeling as Galestar turned to the Great Rock, jumping up onto its surface, a feeling of horror slowly creeping over her. The very way the molly moved up to him spoke of her intent - it was the same way, the same sense, that both Burningsun and Tinystar had held.

"No...." She whispered, her wide eyes catching the movement as starry nose touched flesh and blood. "Please, this isn't...."

A soft thud, and the WindClan leader's form fell, his head lolling with one final flicker of warm yellow eyes. Painless, bloodless, but no breath stirred his body. She watched, numb, as Galestar placed the body in the middle of the clearing, her eyes turning up to the StarClan cat, and truly seeing her for the first time. Cold as leaf-bare, cold as a moonlit frost. There was no care, no true empathy there, anymore, despite the sorrow that might lace her words.

"I've seen a monster...."

No, no, no. For one so young, Viperpaw was too intimately acquainted with death. Her mother, gone before she'd received her apprentice name. Her father, gone before she could even meet him. Two leaders...And now a third, fallen before her very eyes. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. She had wanted there to be another way so badly, despite not knowing Finchstar from any other cat outside of ShadowClan, but of course The Righteous Few had different plans.

When Flintstar got close enough to them, she pressed against him, returning the affection as relief swept through her, so warm her paws felt like they had been near a fire. She choked back a sob as her half-brother and leader told them how foolish they had been. She didn't care, though, the only thing that mattered at that moment was that Flintstar was still there for her. As ShadowClan prepared to leave, she stuck close to his side, the only safety she really knew.

---

Ferretdance watched in horror as the only leader he'd ever known slumped lifelessly and was the deposited unceremoniously on the ground by the starry she-cat before they all disappeared. Their actions were craven and fox-hearted. He was just glad that Morningpaw and Olivestone were both still near him and safe. His paws itched to race back to the moor, to forget that this had ever happened. That was nothing more than wishful thinking, though. Life was never going to be the same, not only because of Finchstar's death, but because of how the cats were now divided. Those who had spoken out...What would their fate be?

As Morningpaw slipped off, he brushed his cheek against Olivestone's. "You keep an eye on Morningpaw. I'll catch up to you." As worried as he was for Morningpaw as she was the catalyst of everything, he saw another cat that he cared for that he was possibly even more worried about.

The ruddy ticked tom bounded over to Clovertwist, pressing himself reassuringly against his friend's side. He didn't want to look at Finchstar's body, but it was kind of impossible to avoid. He didn't look like he'd just had all his remaining lives stripped from him. It still felt so unreal. He realized his paws were shaking a little, and flicked his ears as though he could flick off the fear and uncertainty with that motion. No words could make this better, but he felt so helpless and useless just standing there.

Softpaw strode past Raventail to challenge the Righteous Few, and a mixture of relief and horror welled up within him as he realized she, too, was willing to die for Finchstar. Of course she was, if the rest of them were—hadn’t she claimed this was wrong since the beginning? One touch from Galestar’s nose, and Softpaw slid down, limp, silent. Galestar placed her before Aspenheart, who collapsed over her before Raventail could determine whether she was still breathing. Then the ancient leader changed course. At once, she stood nose-to-nose with Finchstar. Wind howled in Raventail’s ears, rendering him unable to do anything but watch her mouth move from the Great Rock’s base. He’d made the climb once before…and now, he couldn’t.

Like a new mentor meeting their apprentice, Galestar touched her nose to Finchstar’s. Finchstar crumpled.

One to the tunnels. One to greencough. At least one to the beasts. He should have had lives to spare, but he didn’t move as Galestar laid him on the grass. Raventail swayed on his feet. It couldn’t be like this. Raventail had run over the hills behind Finchstar, fought a badger beside him, watched countless sunsets with him. A quiet end just didn’t fit a cat who’d burned so fiercely. Yet Finchstar was smiling. Though his death had been silent, he wouldn’t fade into obscurity; every cat who’d seen him fall would remember. By sunrise, the forest would know that he’d refused to bow to the stars, and they’d killed him for it.

None of that could comfort Raventail. Not when one of his oldest, closest friends was growing cold on the ground in front of him. A cat who died for love was still dead.

Flintstar’s voice echoed across the clearing, signaling the Gathering’s end. Lead them home, a voice murmured. Tonight, and every moon after. It crushed Raventail’s throat, along with the words that would have called WindClan to him. When he looked out over his Clan, he saw their expressions mirrored his own: tear-streaked, horrified, furious. Something brushed his shoulder. He turned to face Dappleshine, Raventail and deputy warring on his face, his head whirling. Remember, you’re at Fourtrees, the other Clans are watching, WindClan is watching, there’s no one else because Finchstar’s gone— What lay before him was clear, but his mind snagged on that final point. ”He can’t be gone,” Raventail choked out. ”He—he can’t be…“

---

If this were as straightforward as the beast-cats had been, Lightfang would have leapt forward; he owed Finchstar that much. But Finchstar had defied the cats who’d given him his authority, had flown in the face of their rules over and over. StarClan had punished Torrentstar and Thornstar for that same thing—them and Tinystar, so long ago it felt like another lifetime. There was no question what they would do, whether they took it into their own paws or left it to the rest of the forest…and the forest had refused.

The smallest of the Righteous Few stepped forward, and Lightfang closed his eyes, letting the ringing silence wash over him. There was no sound of claws rending flesh, no yowls of protest. When he dared to look up, Finchstar’s body remained where Galestar had left it. If he’d had any lives left, they had fled from him under the power of the stars. Now the voices returned, cries of fear and loss and fury.

StarClan was many things; to Lightfang, though their motives and messages were often unclear, their code was not. What the Righteous Few asked now was as simple as it had always been. If he wanted to be a warrior, to follow the code once and for all, there was only one thing he needed to do. It was impossible to argue when all he could see was the corpse of his leader. He would be a traitor whether he stayed or left, but leaving meant one body WindClan wouldn’t have to bury. On silent, shaking legs, the warrior turned and padded out of Fourtrees. His paws guided him not toward the windblown moor where his nest lay, but onward, elsewhere. He’d walked the wilderness before with Burningwolf, with Swallowflight; as the stars demanded, he would do so again.