January Gathering 2024

Birdstar

Birdstar had long ago learned to dread the night of a Gathering. It was routine by now, and a tiring one, to face rising full moons with resentment. But this moon in particular... Birdstar talked herself in circles, hoping to invent a reason not to attend. We are too many ill lay right in front of her as the perfect excuse; it was even true. The afternoon was waning before Birdstar came to a decision and called together the cats she saw fit to make the small journey. To remain in their temporary camp was a public announcement of weakness; invitation for Perchstar, if she'd recovered from hardly being able to place one paw over the other, to make due on the threats she swore were not empty. It would be a denouncement from StarClan on behalf of her entire Clan. Birdstar cared little for the opinion of cats she was sure laughed at SkyClan even now, but she could not deny the sway belief in them held.

So it was she led the dwindling force of SkyClan kicking through the snow. The wind blowing off the frozen lake worsened both temperature and balance, as it caused periodic shudders to wrack her frame. Even Birdstar's dense, dense coat, built for the throes of leaf-bare, could not warm her. Birdstar was unsteady on her paws and terribly cold. Despite the way she threatened to freeze in place, Birdstar was uncomfortably aware of sweat collecting under the layers of her pelt. The fever that never truly left was settling in again. Birdstar let out a wheezing breath, blearily watching it fog the air before pressing onward. She could see the throng of the present Clans gathered not far ahead, on vaguely familiar land. There was no turning away from the night now.

With a final look across SkyClan's party and a grim nod to Wolfblossom, Birdstar led them properly into the informal meeting place. She looked at no one as she brushed past, trying to quell all that writhed within her. Birdstar could not bear to pick her head up and chance to see Perchstar waiting for her--not that she cared to meet anyone's eyes now (her own were crossed, anyway). Just walking through the crowd, her pelt already began to crawl: with shame, suspicion; the particular rage of an animal ensnared. The churning in her stomach was another sensation that never disappeared entirely, only swelled and shrank like the soft tides at the river.

When she reached the front of the crowd, Birdstar forced herself to take the deepest breath she could manage, wincing at the way frosted air scratched through her lungs before lifting her posture. She looked up, finding the small hill the leaders she were gathered on--or, she had expected to find gathered on. Birdstar noted immediately that while Mottlestar was present, Perchstar was absent; half-blessing. The entwined worry and grave hope ate at her only long enough for the fog of her mind to blanket that information to allow her to process more. That WindClan's deputy, whose name she couldn't recall, stood among the other figures with a face entirely unknown to Birdstar in his shadow; that Leopardstar was at least here, making for one other leader stood on the rise; laggingly, that because Perchstar was not here, it was Poppyshine that stood in her place.

Birdstar's haggard features grew briefly tight before her muscles fell too tired to maintain the grimace. She could no longer tell the source of her nausea or the ache in her chest. Poppyshine was an incredibly dear friend to her, but... But.

With a slight tremble, Birdstar gathered the strength in her limbs and followed the small incline up. She offered a wordless chuff as she came to stand among the others, a sound low and rumbling through her thickened chest. Birdstar looked to Poppyshine and Mottlestar as she took her place: a familiar gesture to seek her allies, though illness and annulment of good will stole the former light from her eyes. She looked at them for only a second or so each, dizzy and simply unwilling to meet their eyes for too long, and remained silent save for the rasp of her breaths.

SkyClan may enter the Gathering.

Pigeonpaw

Pigeonpaw hoped she hid her terror as well as she tried to in the days following the big storm. Being attacked had been enough to frighten her to her core, but then the Clans were gone from view when they got away and the rain washed half-to-all the tracks and scents out and then a cough settled into her chest, harsh and painful, and--

And Pigeonpaw was scared, of all of it. She kept her head up and spent most of her time trying to make Scarletpaw laugh, but it was... a lot for her. Pigeonpaw didn't like the feeling of turning around constantly to check the shadows. She didn't like her neck still hurting or feeling dizzy and tired and hot, despite being surrounded by snow. She didn't like being away from her family. Dovepaw must have been worried out of his mind; he must have lost every hair on his pelt, wondering where she'd gone. She would catch an earful, Pigeonpaw was sure, but she didn't care. She just wanted him to know she was okay--which, she wasn't sure how okay she was, but he would know she was still alive.

However afraid Pigeonpaw was, she could safely say she trusted Scarletpaw with her life. He'd already protected it once. Far braver than she was, and capable, smart... she still couldn't believe he'd chased away that big beast all by himself. Pigeonpaw found herself looking at his scar a lot, though she had a feeling it was rude and did her best not to. It fit him well. She always felt a little knot form amidst the congestion of her chest when she spent too long staring, feeling guilty for how he got it in the first place (even though it wasn't really her fault)... but it fit him.

And sure enough, under the silver light of the moon, Scarletpaw faithfully led them home.

Seeing the Clans all piled under the moonlight made Pigeonpaw's chest swell with relief that they hadn't disappeared entirely while her head filled with fuzzy homesickness. Immediately, when they drew closer, she looked for her siblings amongst the crowd. She could spot Dovepaw not too far away, looking stoic as ever, and Pigeonpaw felt so full she thought she'd burst and she wanted to bolt through the crowd even though she'd probably fall after one bound and--she wanted her brother. Nearly, she gave into this urge, forepaw raised and body trembling with the combined efforts of holding herself up and in place, before Pigeonpaw found herself giving into a wholly different impulse. Wheeling around, she wobbily pressed the flat of her head into Scarletpaw's neck, remaining like that for only a moment before her own twinged painfully and she leaned back.

"Don't make me do anything like that again!" Pigeonpaw had to turn and cough into her shoulder when her voice rose, but she gathered her shallow breaths and turned back quick enough. Her normally bright eyes were dulled by several points of weariness, but her cocked grin offered more than a forced display. "Thank you," Pigeonpaw purred softly, earnest for perhaps the first time, before she added, "furball," and snorted softly to herself.

Pigeonpaw has returned to RiverClan, and is talking to Scarletpaw.



Rowansong stayed home to tend to the sick.
Rookflight stayed home due to illness.
Silverhawk stayed home to look after Pineblossom and her kits.

Fawnshine

Concern was a priority on Fawnshine's mind as it was with every other medicine cat—and only logically so. Mottlestar's conditions have not improved yet, and the Gathering this moon felt as if it arrived far too early. Still, reports and well-repeated cycles of cats coming together came as always, a duty unable to miss. Fawnshine padded into the clearing, wind rolling over her pelt and howling eerie whispers in her ears. She shook her head, attempting to shake the thoughts off. They weren't as fierce as when she and the rest of the medicine cats had been during the meeting together.

Regardless of personal discomfort, she eyed the crowd for any particular faces worth taking note of, keeping them in mind for later—and soon gathered with the rest of the medicine cats to discuss through the night.

Fawnshine is open for convo, but is sitting with the rest of the MCs!

Fennelbreeze

Despite the sickness still bothering her, Fennelbreeze trekked forward eagerly with Sootstorm by her side—until she was forced to reluctantly part from him to allow the tom to sit with the rest of the deputies and leaders from the other clans. Such grand duties he held now, She allowed herself to think, gaze softening in admiration. Even if he'd most likely only talk to the other deputies throughout the night, she hoped she'd be able to catch up with him after the Gathering, too. But for now, small talk should be fine.

Fennelbreeze is open for convo!

The strong front Scarletpaw had been keeping up for their trip back threatened to collapse and crumble, like something brittle and frail, but the dug his claws into it like he had the beast that had attacked them; intent on remaining strong and reliable and present. He wanted to turn, to run, to leave her to the capable paws of her family now that they were home (and not his own, which threatened to tremble with every step); maybe to disappear again into parts unknown, never to be seen again.

But he also didn't want to leave her at all. There was something that had drawn him in, something that kept him close, other than the lingering feelings of guilt and concern.

Regardless of his complicated feelings on the matter, he stayed. He had made a promise, and he meant to keep it.

The cough that had found her as the storm dissipated was a lingering worry, and her words as she pressed against him were like sharp slashes to his chest. Not so long ago, he would have had some retort; how he hadn't made her do anything at all. Now he swallowed what remained of his pride, nudging her gently in response when she pulled back, and offered whatever support he could.

"Wouldn't dream of it. You're in charge, now."

And she offered her thanks, and he wondered what she saw in him. It couldn't be what he saw in his own reflection.

But there were more pressing matters to attend to in the moment: the cold light of the full moon, shining down on this place so far from the forest.

"Are you still holding up okay?" Maybe they should have taken the journey slower than they had. Had he pushed too hard? How was he meant to tell? "...You... Probably want to see your family, right? I'll walk with you."

He almost added, only if you want me to. But the risk that she wouldn't was something that ached deep in his chest; and besides that, he wasn't letting her walk through a crowd of every Clan alone when she wasn't well.

Distantly, he wondered what his mother and father thought of his own absence. Had they worried, or simply accepted the loss?

Scarletpaw is speaking with Pigeonpaw!

Nightdancer hid a cough in her chest before lifting her head once more, scanning the area for any potential allies... And for any potential threats. To herself, or to ThunderClan. That was a new consideration; it hadn't previously been one of her own concerns.

It didn't take her long to find one: the very reason for her search, the SkyClan warrior who had trespassed onto ThunderClan land. That fight had gone poorly for her, in the end, lying limp and defeated on the ground--and yet, all things considered, it was the push she had needed to feel like herself again.

She saw him eyeing her beloved leader's place on the hill, and kept perfectly still. She wanted to hiss, to glare, to lash her tail; some way to show the fury she felt at him even daring to glance in Mottlestar's direction after what he had done.

She did not. It did no one any good to make herself a target, least of all ThunderClan.

Instead, the warrior moved with the swift and light-footed steps that had earned her her name. "It's you," she said lightly, as if recognizing a polite acquaintance. "I'm sorry, I never did catch your name."

The sharper words that crossed her mind, she bit back for now. It was best to bide her time and hold her tongue, at least for a little bit.

Trespasser.

Code-breaker.

Forsaking the alliance, refusing to respect the lines drawn... You don't deserve your name.

"I just wanted to thank you," she continued, speaking with the same pleasant, lilted tone. "I haven't felt like myself in seasons. Not until you came along, that is."

In all your foolish glory.

"So, I must thank you, for having the courage to enact a plan so thoroughly ill-conceived!" Her eyes glinted in the light as her game was revealed. Sooner than intended, really, but she couldn't help herself. "I just want to know... Was it worth it? You went to all that trouble--and for what, code-breaker? Some lousy scraps of prey?"

She laughed, still light and playful, with an expression that made clear the words left unspoken.

You're so pathetic!

There was, however, a purpose to her little game (and if it went as she intended, she hoped Mottlestar would understand): to draw the SkyClan idiot's attention away from her leader, and onto her.

Really, she was doing him a favor: if he was actually stupid enough to attack a leader during a Gathering, distracting him from doing so should count as an act of service to the entire forest. Well, or the lake; the forest was rather far from here.

Nightdancer is attempting to distract/antagonize Sunfire.