all this pain and devastation [CLAN MEETING] (Post-War)

The walk back across the river had soaked away the blood of others from Perchstar's pelt. Her white paws became clean again, her maw a soft gray. The only red that remained leaked from her own unpatched wounds, which even now were slowly beginning to scar over. But she felt as if she would never be clean again. Though she knew it was gone, she still saw crimson staining her paws when she looked down. The blood of Mottlestar, hers forever. But most of her thoughts walking home were suppressed. The grief she felt, the wail she'd echoed that even now left her throat raw, all pushed away. The brief relief from Beechfang's death had not lasted. The rage at Birdchaser no longer extended to a corpse. She did not fear SkyClan's hatred either, since they had been determined to give it to her no matter her friendliness. And so among all of the feelings, what arose most was dread. Dread for how her Clanmates would see her; dread for the dull horror in Poppyshine's gaze; dread for injuring her most innocent former apprentice and the newly named medicine cat; dread for how the news would be accepted here and back in ThunderClan. But there was no point in shying away. This was the duty of a leader--to take anything and everything she could. All for the sake of her Clan.

It was an exhausted group of four cats that finally made their way back into camp late in the day. The battle had been fast, but it seemed like it had taken forever. All of Perchstar's energy had leaked away, siphoned by the sense of pure loss that sank into the hollows of her chest, by how much of herself she had put into the battle. But that was it. She still had to speak to her other Clanmates. First, as they reached the borders of camp, Perchstar stopped to look at the three who had come with her. Briefly, she placed her muzzle on the top of Littlesplash's head, though she allowed him to flinch away if he desired. Then the same for Cindersky. Then for Poppyshine. "You should rest," she told them quietly, emptily. "Thank you for all you have done. And... I am truly sorry." It was all she could say. Any more and she would not be able to address the Clan as a leader should. She backed away before the hatred and disgust in their eyes would have time to reach her--before she would be able to comprehend it and let it stop her. Then, in movements that now seemed more robotic than graceful, she ascended the Willow Branch. The few wounds she had that had closed up now bled freely with the quick and taxing movement. But she had to speak to them. They had to know... and they had to know. It was only with moons of practice and great effort that she managed to sound remotely normal as she called out the summons.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own fish gather for a Clan meeting."

War had always called to her blood. It sang for her, had been the very thing that she had been born and bred for. One did not hold the bloodline of not one but two leaders to not go to war, to not be among the frontlines of those she was supposed to defend. She had only offered to stay back upon learning both members of leadership would be taking to the battlefield. Someone had to stay to defend camp, to watch as a tireless sentry on the chance that someone took the reprehensible opportunity to attack when they were otherwise weakened. As the patrol had returned, the sentry had flanked Perchstar's side, utterly silent in her movements. There was no need to defend as they returned. She counted every head-all four to be home.

As Perchstar went to ascend the willow branch, Murkyriver herself would take her place among the crowd. Her gaze swept for the gentle-colored coat she always did, before turning to that of her leader. There would be news. News nobody would be pleased to hear, but it would need delivered. A change had happened in her former mentor and river empress, but it was not one she could place yet. Already, though, her mind had made its decision: Guard.

Duckpaw had been on edge ever since their leader and Clanmates had left - fear in their throat for Littlesplash. The others...The others were warriors, they could handle themselves - they hoped - but Littlesplash was... Duckpaw was still getting to know the medicine cat but there was no doubt in the apprentice's mind that they liked him - that they wanted to be their friend. To protect them, like so many of their Clanmates did. That wasn't to say that their thought didn't drift onto Perchstar, Poppyshine and Cindersky - hoping that they made it back safely but... Well, there was no denying that Duckpaw knew Littlesplash better than the rest.

So when the patrol stepped into the camp - flanked by Murkyriver who had been on watch for their return - Duckpaw let out a sigh of relief as they pushed themselves to their paws...Before they froze at the sight of Littlesplash and his patched throat. Th...The medicine cat had been injured? Their eyes darted between each member of the patrol, taking in their injuries and haunted expressions. Something was wrong despite every member of RiverClan's side of the patrol making it back. Duckpaw opened his mouth to question what had happened but was cut off as Perchstar turned to usher each member of the patrol to rest before leaping onto the Willow Branch to call a meeting.

Duckpaw's ears pinned back as they slipped forward to join the gathering crowd. Everything looked to be fine - all of their Clanmates were home but...Had they...Won? Did Perchstar complete her mission and if so...

Why did everybody look on the edge of tears?

Kitespring froze when she saw RiverClan's patrol return from war.

Poppyshine was especially battered from the conflict. One of her ears was ripped off, her belly was bleeding through the cobwebs meant to close whatever wound she suffered, and the warmness she usually irradiated... was all but gone, like it was nothing than a faint memory. The rest of the patrol seemed to be just as injured - even Littlesplash, who was supposed to be safe as a medicine cat - and everyone was just as shell-shocked. Of course that was the end result of a war, in hindsight, but... she didn't expect any of them to end up like this.

"W-what happened?"

She couldn't stop herself from speaking, even if it would have been better to let them be and that she would have found the information from the pending announcement. Perchstar called out to RiverClan to gather, which almost gave Kitespring a relief to see a normal occurrence, but something told her that Perchstar was... pushing herself to jump up, pushing herself to tell RiverClan even if she really didn't want to. Kitespring knew the feeling all too well, and the time she spent in that mindset was the worst she had ever felt in her life.

Turning back to Poppyshine, the russet she-cat quickly padded over to her spot under the willow branch, before sitting down next to the RiverClan deputy. "Poppyshine?" she started, turning over to her. "I-if there's... a-anything I can do to h-help... w-with d-duties a-and all of t-that..." She couldn't finish that sentence. She was too scared, petrified of trying her best and messing everything up. Could she offer Poppyshine a shoulder, or was she unwilling? Did Poppyshine mind her wrapping her tail around her? Kitespring knew exactly what she wanted to do - comfort Poppyshine - yet she couldn't figure out a good way to do so. The times when she comforted Poppyshine, when Poppyshine comforted her, they all felt like distant memories.

Kitespring rested her tail on Poppyshine's. "I... I don't want you t-to... lose yourself from pushing yourself too hard."

Bloodstained cats arrived with a look of defeat. Was everything alright? Were they okay? Her green eyes stared at the ground; she shuffled her paws. This was slightly awkward to her. Did Beechfang die? Or had RiverClan failed their mission? Why did they let bloodshed come upon RiverClan for just a single cat? Even with Cloverheart dead, RiverClan just had to persevere. But she could see that a loved one was lost, and many cats hated Beechfang for this.

"Is everyone okay?" Scorchlight asked frantically. She was glad she had stayed to guard the camp, even when she wanted to protect her clan at the same time. She didn’t want bloodshed. "…Did anyone die?" She frowned, a worried look came upon her face.

The nerves that had been fluttering in Swandive's stomach had not settled as the hour grew late after the war party had left camp. She had busied herself with a bit of fishing, then meticulously cleaning her nest, and finally had settled near the edge of camp with a twitching tail and paws. Perchstar, Poppyshine, Cindersky and Littlesplash, they had all left capm in pursuit of their leader's justice. Justice that Swandive was still unsure of how to feel about. That Perchstar had fallen so ill right after learning that their own allies had betrayed them... Starclan could not have had Riverclan's best interests at heart, with that. But would anyone listen if she spoke up?

The sound of approaching paws and the scent of blood in the air pulled the warrior from her thoughts. The cats who stepped through the camp's entrance were... Far from the picture of health. Blood was to be expected, of course, but the extent to which her clanmates were so clearly hurt was not what Swandive could have imagined.

"Poppyshine?" An audible gasp was pulled from Swandive at the sight of her old mentor. The deputy looked horrible, light calico pelt stained with blood that still flowed, an ear that had been torn. Her own pale fur bristled at the sight, anger surging on behalf of the injured she-cat that she had always looked up to.

Even the medicine cat was injured, and all Swandive could do was stare in shock. Skyclan had murdered one of their previous medicine cats, though she didn't know the full story of it. Had someone tried to do that again? And Cindersky too, looked terrible. Perchstar... The pale she-cat sucked in a sharp breath, wide eyes taking in her leader's face.

"What happened?" Echoing the questions of her clanmates was apparently all she could do, as a hard knot of emotion Swandive couldn't quite figure out formed in her chest.

In the barest reaches of her peripheral vision, Perchstar caught sight of Murkyriver. Mottlestar's daughter. While the silent show of support would have strengthened her on any other day, today it caused a visceral internal reaction. All her pent-up guilt nearly made her retch. She swallowed it down though, and dug her claws invisibly into the branch below her to find some semblance of steadiness. Neutral face. Leader face. Breathe in, breathe out... she could do this. Simply state the facts as if they were just that: facts. What happened? they all asked. And as the leader, it was her job to respond. Don't pay attention to the daughter of the murdered friend. Don't think about how she would still be alive if not for you. Don't think about it.

"Our battle patrol and our ThunderClan allies fought with a pack of SkyClan cats," Perchstar began, using the numbness she felt to douse her voice in blankness. Neutrality. She would not let exhaustion make her sway on the branch. "During the battle, as intended, I fought with Beechfang. She injured me heavily, but I took her life. She will no longer be a threat to our Clan." If only she could leave it at that... if only she could leave it at that. She exhaled once before continuing. "Unfortunately, it seems that Beechfang was not the only murderer within SkyClan's ranks. As the battle continued, I lost a life, and cats repeatedly threatened to kill my Clanmates. One nearly killed Poppyshine. One even attacked Littlesplash, despite the fact that they'd brought their own medicine cat to the battle to treat them. You can see on our pelts SkyClan's idea of a fair fight." If she could express any emotion, her tail would have lashed in anger. But expressing anger would open the floodgates of sorrow and then she would collapse in on herself entirely. Don't feel. Don't think. Just speak. She tried not to make eye contact with anyone. "And then, at the end, before I could stop the battle... Birdstar killed Mottlestar. Took all of her remaining lives in a single violent blow. In retaliation, I took one of her lives, which happened to be her last. Both ThunderClan and SkyClan will have new leaders at this next Gathering. It was not my intention... but in the heat of war, none would accept a surrender." Why was she bothering to add caveats? If they desired to apply labels to her, let them. She could do nothing. "But it's over. RiverClan and ThunderClan won the battle."

If only that was it. If only she could leave it at that. But as leader, she had to think forward. Perchstar closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again, scanning the faces of her Clanmates--preparing herself to see horror, to see anger, to see disappointment. "I do not plan to undertake any more battles. We got what we came for, despite SkyClan's bloodthirst. But I do not know if they will try to attack us again. In the meantime, patrols anywhere near SkyClan's portion of the river will be at double strength. Please do not leave the territory alone--especially not in that area of the territory, for your safety." Then, as always... to open herself up. She could not retreat into her den and hide, as much as she wished to. Ignoring the way that her wounds ached, she leapt down from the Willow Branch. "That is all. If you have any more questions, any concerns, then please ask." Please do not ask. Please leave me alone. Please do not fault me for trying to protect you all. Her silent plea remained unexpressed, unspoken. Her face stayed neutral. Blue eyes looked flatly over the warriors and apprentices gathered. Their vilification, their insults... if necessary, she would take it all.


Dovetail listened with slowly widening eyes to the account, feeling his tail bristle at the display of violence on the battle patrols' pelts. Attacking a medicine cat again? If they'd wished to prove themselves as the victims, they'd certainly failed. Imagining one of his own siblings on the patrol made him want to storm over to the border himself--but he didn't. Instead, his ears caught upon another piece of information. Mottlestar... dead. All of her lives gone. Irrepressibly, instinctively, his pale blue eyes moved to Murkyriver, standing sentinel-like at the base of the tree. After offering a gentle nudge of comfort to his sister Swandive, the tom padded through the crowd to sit at his friend's side. She rarely showed her emotion, he knew, just like how Perchstar currently stood stone-faced despite the outward bleeding. But to lose a mother.... Dovetail had never lost a parent, since he had never had one in his memory. Not even the strange dreams that haunted him. But he knew the fear of loss, and so he sat nearby, placing a large brown paw atop one of her mottled ones. If she needed comfort... he would be here.

She did not know what she was expecting when Perchstar began to speak. Victory was a distant memory, a bitter taste upon the tongue when she had upheld the physical state of the battle patrol. Though four bodies returned with the full capability of thought and breath, that did not mean that four full hearts had been the ones that returned. It did not mean that four full souls had returned. She could see it amongst the harrowed faces of them all. Perchstar's wounds that marred her pelt, that still trickled the crimson liquid that was the evidence that she would fight to live another day. Had she the skills, she would have gone to the medicine den to assist where her Clanmates needed it most. They needed healing. Emotional healing, she could not deliver. She herself had always failed in that regard. Physical comfort, she could not provide either. However, what she could provide... she would do so. She had descended as the night sentinel upon Riverclan before to defend her Clanmate that needed it desperately, she would do so again for her leadership.

Still, it did not prepare her for what would come from Perchstar's maw. Though she stood with otherworldly stillness, so still it could be questioned whether or not even the blizzard of shade and river existed herself, there was no amount of stillness that could prepare her for what was uttered.

Birdstar killed Mottlestar. Took all of her remaining lives in a single violent blow.

It was not the banner she marched beneath.

She was no longer allied to the mother of the forest. No longer did she spend every waking hour in the pitch of night patrolling her sacred childhood grounds, felling predator after predator that dared attempt to disturb the peace for the Clan that made their home amongst the bracken and roots of trees. There was nothing to tie her to that Clan any longer, save for a singular pelt that was flecked of the oak bark of the trees that surrounded their camp in the midst of that sand-filled hollow in the earth. She did not care. She did not belong there. They had ridiculed her for a bloodline that was of no fault to her own, banished her due to the sire that she had no choice in taking. Excluded because of the scar that marred her face, now made to four, and would have excluded her for the faintest clouding of her vision. They did not care. Her mother did nothing to ensure that she was taken care of, had done nothing to dispel the rumors that swirled behind her in a murky ilk for every step she took.

So... why...

... why did her paws suddenly feel wet?

... Why couldn't she breathe ..?

...

Where... where had the tears come from?

It did not matter. She ignored them, even as Dovetail's large paw rested atop her own smaller one. His paw would be struck by the falling liquid of emotion, even as her body did not otherwise move. It was perhaps the only time her heritage was on full display in the show of being an absolutely immovable shade, unstirred even as she could not help the way her emotions had taken over. No matter how hard she smothered them, they simply kept coming. Each tear followed right after the last, spilling down her muzzle easier than before as her fur had adapted to her new affinity of the river. She did not even attempt to cease the river's call in her mind, letting its flood pull her under. Though she drowned internally in the sorrow, it did not make its way outward. Would not make its way outward.

Her grip into the earth was the only reaction that she had. A subtle, silent plea beneath Dovetail's paw to understand. If he did not pick up on her cue, she would hardly fault him. But there would be no words. There was no way to speak as she slipped into that silent vigil; the raging waters beneath the protection of the darkest shadows stealing every word from her tongue. Rising as Perchstar lept from the branch, she would march forth. Hardly blinking, but gliding with the skill of that only a cat of immovable Thunder, silent shadow, and fluid river could.

She took her station to Perchstar's left, and stared forth. A guard for her leader.

A silent sentry in time of mourning.

She would not pay heed to the tears that continued to fall, to the rain of emotions that symbolized the fact that the announcement had any sort of impact to her chest. It did not bother her in the slightest that her vision blurred further from the impact of the salty orbs. Her duty would be to defend her leader, as that was the oath that she had sworn. Dovetail would understand... Dovetail would understand. After all... he had to. He simply had to.

That was the only thought that she clung to as she allowed the current of her internal tsunami sweep her away, locked behind the doors of onyx shadow and abyssal flame.

Sprucebark watched as so many of his clanmates came back injured but to his relief all of them did come back. He glanced at his mom and his heart ached seeing her in so much pain. He wanted to go to her side but would not interfere with whatever duties she still had, hoping that going to med cat was one of them.

He was so focused on making sure everyone had returned he almost missed some of the announcment but caught that beech was dead... so too was bird and mottle??!

He exhaled shakily sitting down. Oh this was bad... and they would be foolish to think this was the end of it.

Perchstar asked for questions... but only one came ringing inside his head but he dared not speak it, not aloud no not ever.

was any of this worth it? he let it rattle around unspoken as he shook his head a little no

Slow as his namesake, Snailpaw was late to the meeting. As he walked, his tail hung just above the ground. Following behind him.

However, Snailpaw wasn't late enough to miss anything. He still heard every word, and his breath hitched in his throat as Perchstar spoke of the war.

They won. It's fine. Right? They won, but.. No, no. They- We won.

He took his proper seat, his tail curled over his paws as he was in deep thought.

Snailpaw's face showed the emotions he wouldn't hold back. His face showed sadness he let himself share with the world around him.

Cats lost their lives- They died for this.

And with his face turned away from everyone..
..He wept for their losses.

In the wake of his injury, Littlesplash's eyes had become hallow and blank. Everything had been a blur since the moment the Skyclan warrior had sunk his fangs into the tiny medicine cat's throat. His hazy vision had become stained with red, a memory of the vicious battle that had played out before his eyes. He had drank it all in, watching the pain of his clanmates, the death of a Thunderclan warrior who had sacrificed himself to spare the medicine cat. Skyclan's healer had come to his aid, patched him up, and pulled him away from the battlefield he had been unwillingly thrust into. All of this was no more than catalogued fact in his mind.

Everything had been events happening around him, while Littlesplash stared ahead, walking numbly back to camp with stumbling paws. He'd never lost blood like this before and it made his pelt shake. The world felt impossibly cold and distant, a sensation not even the chilling currents of the river could pull him from. Back in the safety of camp meant nothing to him in this state. It was more words, curious gazes, and questioning glances. The desire to collapse into the ground and melt into the frigid earth was overwhelming. He did not care what other cats thought, he was not trying to be brave or strong, not even considering it.

Larkspring's voice caused his head to turn slightly in the direction of the warrior. Despite his unseeing gaze, one that looked beyond the black and white tom, Littlesplash managed the faintest of nods from his position splayed out on the ground. He didn't move. It would take help from clanmates to find his footing enough to get to the den. However, it was more than Littlesplash whose pelt was stained with still seeping crimson wounds. In the back of his mind, he silently pleaded for any reprieve from this state. There was a duty beyond his own pain and state of shock; he needed to find that. But it was impossibly far away.