A rush and a torrent of blood and abhorrence [OPEN]

The sound of raised voices interrupted the ringing in her ears, long enough to draw the tuxedo she-cat's head upward, and towards the Tallbranch, where Morningstar stood. The pale golden tom had haunted SkyClan since long before Spottedfrog was born, lording over them in spirit the way he now lorded over them in reality. She had been warned of Dawnhawk before her litter was even out of the nursery... his name said in whispered tones, as if the very sound of it would summon the beastly tom from the void to strike down whoever'd spoken it.

She listened to his speech, and at the end, his command. Raw exhaustion was the only thing that kept her features free of the shock that raced through her like electricity - he wanted his own mother dead? Really? And he was making Beechfang do it? Spottedfrog stood, the now-frozen blood that soaked her neck and shoulders stiff and uncomfortable. Her gaze slid over to her half-sister, and then to Smokefeather. Would she do it? Would Beechfang really kill her? As Smokefeather began talking, Spottedfrog edged closer to hear the elder's words. Sympathy for her, and disdain for Beechfang, warred for control in the young warrior's mind... she'd always liked Smokefeather, and she knew that the elder meant a lot to Bloodstar, even if their relationship had been strained. But watching her half-sister practically writhe in discomfort and reluctance, powerless, sparked a semblance of... something. Joy? No. Satisfaction, maybe.

For once, you're on the other side of the claw, Beech. Spottedfrog curled her lip, baring a single fang. Mother and daughter exchanged quiet words that she couldn't hear, and then Smokefeather leaned away, baring her neck. A single, quick flash of claws and it was over, the elder crumpling to the ground at her sister's paws. Spottedfrog's eyes traveled back to Morningstar. Even after watching he and his rogue friend take Wolfstar down so many moons ago, Spottedfrog hadn't understood the fear with which this tom was regarded... but now, staring up at his ghastly, alabaster silhouette, the dark blood at his neck never ceasing its drip drip drip... now she got it. It was never about his physical power, but the wicked cruelness he held in his heart, the lengths he would go to in order to hurt those who'd wronged him, and his ability to rally others behind him to do the same. Those things, above all else, made Morningstar the most dangerous cat she'd ever known and probably ever would... and now, he ruled the forest.

The warrior sat back on her haunches, a renewed interest sparking in her green-gold eyes. Morningstar had taken her father from her, and she wanted nothing more than to be the one to end him, to wipe the smug grin away from his face, but... part of her also admired him. If your ire was pointed anywhere else, we could be friends, brother. Spottedfrog's brow furrowed slightly, her mind racing, heart galloping in her chest... and then she stood, her paws carrying her across the camp to just under the Tallbranch, where she turned to face Beechfang. Her gaze flicked coldly down to Smokefeather's body, and then rose to meet Beechfang's. "Congratulations on your promotion."

And with that she sat, curling her feathery tail around her paws. Anyone who resisted these cats was going to die, that much was clear... and Spottedfrog was not going to be on that list. Not tonight.

Meeting Smokefeather's gaze was the worst thing Aether could have done. That wasn't the gaze of an evil cat. Even Aether could see how tired and defeated she already was. She was his grandmother, his family, even if he had never known her. He wished he had. There was something in the way she looked at him that left so much to want. Would she have loved him, the way he thought his family had? Even the way she addressed him.... She spoke of Dawnhawk's need for vengeance, and had to wonder, why? There was so much he wanted to ask her, and so little time. Aether had to turn away as claws struck the elder down, fighting tears and grief for a cat he had never even known, and now, never would.

Smokefeather had called him kit, and there was truth in that one word. On the battlefield, it is easy to forget how young the cat you are fighting is, but his youth betrayed him in the vulnerability he showed. He was young, just a kit following his father. He hadn't learned what it was like to truly be a kit, though. He had learned how to hunt, how to fight, and how to get revenge on any cat that hurt him.

Seeing the truth in revenge, though, without all the smoke and mirrors, made Aether feel sick at the thought.

Ares followed Morningstar silently, listening quietly as he was shown Skyclan camp. The nursery, the-, of course, his father was dumbstruck. Even as a powerful dead cat, he clearly had some issues with self-control. Well, who didn't? Though those could clearly manifest in differing ways. Then the other dens, was he expected to sleep with Skyclan warriors? They would want to kill him in his sleep... well at least they could certainly try. Then, his father called a meeting, not unlike the ones he had called in their own camp. This was clearly where he had gotten the inspiration.

He was a soldier, he was not a cat right now. That was what Ares kept telling himself, and so that is what he believed. Morningstar announced that this Beechfang was to kill his grandmother. Cruel, yet effective. Show Skyclan who was truly in charge. If you could get a cat to kill another, that was full control. Of course, his brother had to speak up, he was being weak. "Quiet!" He hissed to Aether, annoyance lacing his tone.

Then the execution was over, not before some lengthy emotions. Aether looked sick, that cat, Smokefeather, had heard him, spoken to him. He would have to take him aside, tell him how weak he was being. If he embarrassed his father then so help him, there would be no saving him from Ares's wrath.

There was no way. Beechfang wouldn't kill one of her own clanmates, much less her own mother. Yet that was the dilemma that had befallen them. There was nothing she could do. All she could do was listen in agony as Smokefeather told her and her siblings how proud she was of them. It was like a thorn was being twisted into her heart, only to be slammed down with a paw once Smokefeather exposed her neck, and then she was gone. "Mom..." Ravenclaw whispered, bowing her head and shutting her eyes tight. This couldn't be happening, but it was. Her mom - their mom - was dead, but she knew better than to blame Beechfang for her passing. It was Dawnhawk's fault. He would never be a leader to her. She lifted her head high, steeling her gaze. She wouldn't allow any weakness to show on her face. Not in front of these invaders. Her claws gouged the ground beneath her. Dawnhawk would die by her claws: she would make sure of it.

As Smokefeather talked, Morningstar's anger increased. His tail lashed almost continuously and a wolf-like snarl appeared on his face. He didn't need to justify anything to her. He watched the exchange of words between Beechfang and Smokefeather. Several times he was ready to just give the undead the signal to wipe the clan, but eventually Beechfang did what she was told. One down, several to go. They would all fall in line, or they would watch the clan suffer for it. He stared at Smokefeather's body for a moment, wanting to relish the fact that his source of frustration was finally gone...

But Morningstar felt nothing. No joy. No sorrow. No regret either. Why? He'd been working for so long trying to get her. Was this what it was like to lose your soul? Was this what it was like to lose your mind? He pushed away his own confusion and chalked it up to just being shock. It would hit him later and he would celebrate or at least finally breathe that elusive sigh of relief that he'd been chasing since he was an apprentice. He noticed a few things in the crowd however. Tornshadow's expression was one of conflict... which he did not like. Aether speaking out and now crying over a grandmother he'd never met until today. Ares and Aoife telling him to shut it. Spottedfrog... the one that called Bloodstrike to their location when he and Tarot were taking multiple lives from Wolfstar... her reaction was not what he expected. He regarded his half sister carefully and considered what he might say to her later.

The brown tabby, Hawkstrike, he would speak to off to the side in a moment.

"Now that I can hear myself think..." He glared at Smokefeather's body. "I'm not sure where she expected me to go, to go be a kittypet maybe? I tried to start over in Windclan and Skyclan chased me out of there, went to war with Windclan over harboring me even. I tried helping other clans and they all shunned me, so no, Skyclan, don't be fooled by her words. It didn't matter how many times I tried to start over, because of your leaders and her, I had no chance of doing so. So here I am. Mourn her if you like but she is the last one who deserves it." His eyes then went to Tornshadow. "Calypso. Believe me when I tell you that everyone is genuinely sorry in the moment of their execution, but not a moment before." The last thing he needed was his oldest living daughter being corrupted by Smokefeather's lies. His eyes then went to Aether and Ares.

"Aether, this is a hard world we live in. If you don't toughen up you'll never make it. Ares, I trust you to train him to be stronger, mentally and physically. Do whatever you feel you need to to achieve that. I've lost enough of my kits and I don't want to lose more." Finally his eyes went to Hawkstrike.

"As for you, I'd like to talk to you in private when this meeting concludes. I can fill you in on what's been going on since you've been dead, at least with the knowledge that I have." With all of the individual concerns out of the way, he would address the clan once more. The undead cats were moving back to the edges of camp, the threat of Skyclan's destruction gone for now.

"To conclude our meeting I will say this: I have been merciful in the past when I came here with the Asylum. I heard the sneers, jeers and scorn behind my back and I ignored them. I defended Skyclan against Asylum attackers and I was still hated and betrayed. I will not be doing that a second time, nor will I be taking any prisoners. You did not listen, you were not reasonable, so now you will live in fear. Comply or die, I don't care which." Morningstar's cold eyes shifted to Primroselight, whom had Bloodstar on her back. His eyes narrowed, but then he smirked.

"You will not bury Bloodstar. Put him on a sturdy branch above camp. You are free to look up at him every day to see if he has awoken yet. I assure you that he won't. Furthermore, it will be a good reminder to anyone who thinks of resisting." Two undead cats moved in toward Primroselight and stood side to side with her. They would assist in getting such a large cat up onto a branch. If she refused, they would simply lean into her, steal all of her strength with a touch, and carry Bloodstar up together without her.

"Clan meeting dismissed. It's good to be back." He growled his last words and pressed his claws to the stone on top of the leader's den. His words were anything but cheerful. With that conclusion, Morningstar dropped down from the leader's den and nodded once at the brown tabby Dark Forest cat. He would speak with him inside the den with undead cats just outside.

Ashstorm watched as Smokefeather came out of the elder's den, angry and confused as Ashstorm could guess most cats were.  He asked for Smokefeather and Beechfang to come up.  He called himself leader, Ashstorm would never except this.  Bloodstar was her leader, no one else would be.  She would play along if it would make her clan safer, but she would never believe anything coming out of Morningstar's mouth.

Her eyes, sharp with pain, flicked between her mother, sister, and brother - no not brother - the criminal.  She did not know what to expect, but she did know the revenge that Morningstar had sought, and she knew that Beechfang was not necessarily the cat Morningstar got along with most.  She forced herself to listen, but her heart was sinking with very word.  You can't blame your faults on her, She thought. This was all your decision.

Alarm raised in her as he continued.  WHAT???  Beechfang would not do that, right?  How could he expect her to?  How could he be so cruel.  She made her way up to the front of the crowd.  Beechfang and Smokefeather were talking, most of which she could not hear.  Smokefeather started talking to the rest of her kits, one of which was Ashstorm, as if it were her last words.  Ashstorm did not believe what her mother told her.

A moment went by and Smokefeather was dead on the ground.  It was strange how much could change in a moment, the pain and sorrow that most cats in the clan seemed to feel or the joy and energy she guessed the Dark Forests cats and Morningstar felt.  Strange how all of that happened in a moment.

Everything around Ashstorm disappeared in that moment.  Her heart was broken, her soul was crushed.  She did not even try to hide those tears anymore.  She broke down.  Her head was near the ground, her legs felt too weak to stand.  She felt like she could not move.  She felt like she could not breath.

Morningstar continued to speak; she did not care.  "I'm sorry," She whispered.  "I'm so, so sorry."  She kept repeating those words.  Her eyes moved up to Morningstar.  "How- how could you?"  Her voice shook, her tone was now one of complete pain, not anger. Ashstorm had no idea what to do.

She did not feel like she had anyone.  Her father, her mother, her mentor... all gone.

One of the last places Hyacinth ever wished to be was anywhere near the Clans. It only ever made her feel inferior, and the memories of what little interactions she'd had with the Clans bubbled to the surface. However, these circumstances were something she never imagined herself in. She was unsure what actual power the Order, as a group, had on the Clan, but it was clear that Klaus... er, Morningstar was in control. Was he still leading the Forgotten Order? Or had that ended along with his life? There were so many questions the she-cat had, and they were all left unanswered, it seemed. Everything had happened so quickly... The gathering, his death, and now... Whatever it was they were doing now. She had been ill with the golden tom at the time of his death, and it left her unsure of how to interact with him.

At the sound of him calling the meeting, she begrudgingly looked around and found a place to perch- She wasn't positive, but she thought that a particular tree in camp stuck out to her. It was likely SkyClan's meeting place, the Tallbranch (of course she didn't know it was called that), and with the smallest hint of a grin, she leaped onto it and let herself get settled, tail dangling lamely of the side as she watched the proceedings of the meeting. Her maw parted slightly when Morningstar asked Beechfang to... Execute her own mother? Hyacinth genuinely didn't believe that was something the tom would've done... But he was different, now. Not the tom she'd met when she was vulnerable and afraid. Things had changed, and this made it that much clearer for her. She didn't flinch when Beechfang obliged, putting the Clan above her frail old mother. It was for the best, Hyacinth supposed. Once the meeting was dismissed, the molly rested her head on her two front paws, watching the Clan scramble and react to the event from above.

---

An almost numb feeling had settled in the pit of Briarthorn's chest as she padded into camp, one large paw after another. Her eyes had been locked on the ground since they left the gathering, avoiding laying them on Primroselight and her mate... Or what was left of him, at least. The question lingered on when, if ever, he would revive... He surely had more lives, there was no way he didn't. Without StarClan around, they couldn't heal his wounds... So did he linger in the mist? Or did his spirit stay with his body, trapped within the confines of the bleeding, cold heap of bones and fur? The subject made Briarthorn shiver, and she much preferred to keep her mind empty, lest tears begin to form once again. The gathering had been overwhelming, and for a she-cat who rarely showed such emotion, handling any of it was difficult. When they finally arrived in camp, she tried her best to help Primroselight slide Bloodstar to the hard ground beneath them. While the she-cat carried on, Briarthorn stayed by his limp body. It gave her little comfort- if anything, it made it more difficult to process. The way is sat there, unmoving, chest still as could be. Regardless, she sat beside him, eventually curling her fluffy tail around him and hanging her head between her shoulders, eyes shut tight- that was, until Dawnhawk began speaking.

Her gaze shot over to the tom near the leader's den, soaking in every word of what he said. Beechfang... Execute Smokefeather? Briarthorn had never been either of their biggest fans. Beeching seemed to have it out for her, and Smokefeather was the mother of Bloodstar's first litters of kits. Regardless, her heart ached for both of them. An impossible situation had been presented to them, once that Briarthorn choked up at the thought of. Her instincts screamed at her to do something, anything, to stop this, but she was frozen in place, paws rooted to the ground next to Bloodstar. With wide eyes, she watched as Beechfang raised unsheathed claws against her mother, blood spilling onto the snow beneath them. Everything else seemed to move in a flash, until Morningstar's gaze was on Primroselight, telling her that the Clan was not to bury their true leader. She wanted to fight them on it, to scream every insult in the book at them and tell them they were the scum of the earth. She knew that would only lead to more bloodshed, though, and she simply moved away so that the two undead, unsightly monsters could help Bloodstar's daughter hoist him onto a tree. An undescribable gaze filled with sorrow shifted between the tom and Primroselight, and Briarthorn felt utterly helpless. "I'm so sorry, Primroselight. I... I should've done more. I'm sorry." It was the only thing she could manage to say before tears began to form in her eyes, and the lump in her throat rose and all but choked her.

Wildfang kicked her, and Lynxpetal growled quietly before it died in her throat. Her eyes met the stranger’s and her whole body froze. He was familiar, somehow, but she was having a hard time looking at him beyond the blood still oozing from his throat. She, too, was pregnant, though her mind went to her adult children that had gone to the Gathering. She had been less inclined to go after Oliverain passed. The tom moved on, and she was left staring in fear and confusion at Wildfang, until the strange voice called the Clan out from their nests. Dread weighed her down like stones on her broad shoulders.

Ashstorm’s voice carried as she explained the Gathering’s disastrous events, and icy cold shock filled Lynxpetal to the brim. “Pigeonsun is dead?! My Pigeonsun was killed?!” She shrieked before the dead tomcat called them all to order. Stars, he hadn’t even been home for moons, yet she’d held out hope all this time that the ancestors would bring him home. It seemed they had failed everyone. Her mouth remained wide, though soundless, and she peered up at Morningstar when he screeched at Smokefeather. She took a single step forward when the elder and former medicine cat were called up. Adrenaline still pumped through her system, and for a moment she thought she might leap forward to stand by her friends, but rationality held her back. She could only watch them with wide eyes as the mangy leader delivered his orders.

“Oh, Smokefeather, Beechfang…” Lynxpetal crooned in despair. The elder spoke with so much pride and righteous fury, Lynxpetal could barely disagree. But she knew what Dawnhawk’s wrath entailed, having been told the stories and heard reports at Gatherings. He would have killed her anyway. This was Smokefeather’s glorious last stand. At least she could look her son in the eye, though the queen still gritted her teeth. She shut her eyes tightly and looked away from Beechfang. She felt no anger towards the warrior. Only fear and helplessness and a piercing, dark grief for her lost Clanmates.

Slightfrost watched with interest as the elder fell. actually, he was more focused on how beautiful and vivid the blood was against the white snow. just like the first time he got hurt, blood was oddly beautiful.

Smile. Why are you hesitating? Isn't this what you wanted? No.. Yes.. Maybe.. She wasn't sure. He mind still raced with so many thoughts it was hard to focus on just one. All she knew for sure was that she wanted to go home.. back to the barn.. if that could even be considered their home. She wasnt sure anymore. Home was always with Dawnhawk, but the cat that was here wasn't him anymore. Morningstar was different.. he was chosing power and Skyclan over his own order he established. Honestly Calypso felt like she was being left behind once again.. First Honeycomb.. then Birdsong, and now her father? It seemed she was always the second choice. There was always a better choice for the three that really mattered to her.

Morningstar's voice cut through her thoughts causing her to freeze. Of course.. More confusing words.. never knowing who was right and who was wrong. Instead of bringing it up, she just nodded. "I understand.." She didn't say more than that. The meeting was over. She didn't have to be here anymore.

With one last look around the familiar camp, she stood. The order had fulfilled their request. They were no longer needed here. "Forgotten Order!" She called out, her voice rising above the crowd. "We have fufilled Morningstar's last requests! It's time for us to go home. If you wish to remain here, you may, but I will be taking the rest home." There.. she would feel better now once she stepped out of the camp. The others could follow her if they wished, if they didn't then she would build the order from the ground up once again. With that the gold and white rogue turned and headed for the camp exit. Not waiting on anyone else's say.

Yet another moment where Aether was proven wrong. How could he be so stupid? He couldn't believe he ever questioned his father when, even now, he cared for him. Morningstar didn't want to lose him, he still loved him. Guilt racked his body as realization sunk in.

Calypso had called the Order to gather, and it only took a second for Aether decide not to follow. He would stay with his father, train as he wished. He would not be weak anymore. He would not let the other cats get to him anymore.

He would be a son that makes his father proud.