An After-Gathering Meeting [open]

Adderdawn

Shrikestar didn’t wait long to deliver the news. It was both blessing and curse– impatience was making Adderdawn’s tail-tip flicker, so he was grateful the news of the Gathering was delivered promptly. But the news of the Gathering.

Adderdawn wasn’t sure how to process it. While he was blinking slowly along to Shrikestar’s words, he wished there had been a few more moments of still breath so he could brace himself. The excuse of StarClan’s guidance struck him out of his daze, and the warrior immediately snapped his head towards Batsong. The announcement of increased patrols made his eyes narrow, sharp and unkind. If ShadowClan came to the moors, their lives were forfeit by her doing. Over what? A relationship she had no reason to stick her nose in? Mauled Clanmates no one had cared to act against before, and so many moons ago now it was almost asinine to call attention to it at a Gathering?

Whisperear’s strained voice rose in question, and immediately after the recently-returned Rosepaw joined them. She’s no friend of ours, he wanted to snort, but the kittishness of that argument kept it silent. Instead, he dryly corrected, “The only thing Batsong did herself was meddle in our safety. Don’t make it sound like it’s her and her alone that will suffer for her idiocy.”

Batsong speaking for herself kept him from rambling further. His whiskers twitched when she spoke about Dawnhawk. Those stories had been only nursery-tales to him, but if even one of them was true then she was making a worse display for herself by comparing Nightstar to… that. Especially when the only accusation Shrikestar announced was an apparent relationship between Nightstar and Mottlestar. They’d all seen the aftermath of Nightstar’s temper. Gruesome, but to that degree?

Adderdawn’s whiskers twitched with the thought that he’d been the only one to say anything after Russetrye and Amberstone spilled their guts across Highstones. When Batsong went trailing on about how she understood if they were upset, that she would always listen to their concerns, a hollow laugh barked in response.

Before he could snap at Batsong to call her and Shrikestar both lying hypocrites with nothing but fox-dung in their mouths and heads, Flutterpetal softly called out to the medicine cat. Biting his tongue, Adderdawn turned to look towards his brother. His ears lowered and his chest turned sour while he listened. If he were closer, he might have hit Batsong over the head. Just once, to knock some sense into her. With a hissed breath, he pushed the thought from his mind and pressed closer to his brother. He didn’t want to cause more a scene again– more of one than was starting –when they were sitting right beside each other.

Dark hackles bristled the longer Flutterpetal spoke. He knew already that Batsong’s treachery would earn them a target from ShadowClan, if no one else. Everyone in the clearing knew that now. But hearing their danger confirmed… Adderdawn’s tail beat the ground again and continued to lash beside him. He wanted to hold onto a shred of composure, for Flutter’s sake at least, but his shoulders shook with the effort and stars, what he was hearing. Adderdawn’s claws flexed with agitation, sliding in and out of the sand.

Brackenwing’s voice both eased his growing fury and stoked it. He trusted her opinion on and reaction toward their high ranks, and it was relieving to have voices of support when the disappointed stares of his Clanmates following his outburst toward Shrikestar still lingered in his mind. But the venom in her voice made his own lips curl, made his paws itch with the desire to break his self-imposed quiet. It would be pointless, he tried to tell himself, because she said most of what he would have anyway.

Then her brother’s questions snapped the hold on Adderdawn’s tongue anyway. “You know the answer to that.” He responded icily, turning to look towards the senior warrior’s voice and nodding when he saw Owlshade. When he noticed Brackenwing close by, he added, “You too. Shrikestar has been untrustworthy.” Adderdawn slowly turned back around, and after an apologetic look offered briefly to Flutterpetal, he set his sights on the tabby glowering from the top of the rock.

“I spoke out against you moons ago. I called you a coward, because you would sooner forfeit your own warriors for the benefit of Nightstar’s ego than lift a paw to defend them.” Contempt was thick in his voice. “You claimed there is nothing you do for this Clan without consideration. You claimed we were your burden, claimed our deaths were your weight to bear. And you say that, you always say something like that, and always sound so confident in that statement. I think I’m impressed by how thoroughly you’ve convinced yourself. If you actually do think about anything you do for WindClan– especially if you knew of this, considered it, and allowed it –then you have nothing but dead air between your ears and I’m shocked you were ever picked to be deputy.”

Adderdawn had been putting effort into carefully choosing his words before he went ranting, but his voice shook with anger when he spat out a sharper insult than he’d planned. With a snort he stood, bristling and as tall as he could make himself. “And there is nothing you could say to convince me you care for any of us beyond the image we present to the forest. Well- I would have thought that, but apparently that means nothing to you either.” Adderdawn hissed, tail lashing through the air. “Allowing this, defending this… You’ve exposed WindClan’s throat. We can already feel the jaws around us, and when it snaps shut, there will be no one to blame but you. And–” His attention flicked down to Batsong, “you.”

Batsong had never been a friend to him, but he had no problem with her before this. Thinking about it, he really never spoke to her. Maybe it was a subconscious avoidance from her association with the deaths of his friends. Now, though– ire twisted Adderdawn’s expression when he faced her. “Don’t say a word about caring for our opinions or our upset. I could say the same things to you that I did to him. How do you watch your Clanmates suffer because of Nightstar, fester this grudge against him for however long, and you come to this? No one with a drop of good sense would decide publicly embarrassing him in front of the entire forest, on hallowed ground, during a night of civility and peace is the best course of action. No one with sense would even consider it.”

Adderdawn’s nostrils flared. An awareness that his reaction may have been extreme came to him, but then they always were. And if he’d been wrong any other time, he knew he was justified now. Justified, and emboldened by the anger thick in the air. Angling his head, Adderdawn looked toward Smallbean, mostly hidden by the crowd and the Tallrock’s shadow and scowled. Whatever Smallbean thought, he was silent and complicit in Shrikestar’s shadow. The warrior's mouth briefly opened before he decided he had nothing to say directly to the deputy, and he snapped his mouth shut with a disappointed grimace.

Turning sharply, Adderdawn glared narrowly at the other two high ranks and hissed finally, “Neither of you are worth the faith you keep demanding from us. Brackenwing made a good point, that it isn’t StarClan’s wrath you’re increasing patrols against. But when the threat you are trying to keep at bay comes, I hope our ancestors laugh at you. I hope they laugh and remind you the lives they come to collect are on your paws.”