February’s Gathering 2018

"And what a daughter you end up being, murdering her own mother. Who cares what she would think about me? She's dead thanks to you, fox-hearted scum, and I will never be able to see her again thanks to YOU. She can't even see me because she's gone so it doesn't matter anymore the promise we made. Tell me, how does it feel to have in your paws the death of a cat? Even if she was a "murderer" like you said... was it pleasant to kill her? Because it seems that you still desire death and blood from me. Such a nice warrior you're, kittypet. You don't deserve your name at all, Heather." He hissed with poison on his tongue before the she-cat could leave. For the first time in his life... he truly hated someone. And that someone was Heatherpetal. She was just a whining kit who pretended to be a good warrior. She was far away from that fake reality.

Unlike Heatherpetal, the ShadowClanner never killed anyone. He followed the Code every day and now he was truly an honourable warrior. Better than Honeydrop, who broke the Medicine cat code and... better than his father, the one cat he thought as the best warrior in all the clans, despite his origins.

Heatherpetal forced herself to ignore the former rogue name that Buttercup had given her as a kit and continued stalking off.

She sighed as she forced herself to calm back down, and she sat next to Emberheart. "Sorry if I took so long. Did I miss anything?"

Badgerthorn couldn't help but let out a small purr when Graypaw came bounding up to him and mentioned his name or well his old name. "Well.. actually it's Badgerthorn now." The tom said to the apprentice. "I got my new name a few sunrises ago." The charcoal tom mentioned. "It's my first gathering as a warrior." He held his head a bit higher in pride of his name. "How are things going with you? And Skyclan?"

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Tatteredleaf limped into the gathering. She didn't really want to be here after the events that had occurred but Blizzardstar needed her support. The scarred warrior sat towards the back of the giant crowd not really wanting to interact with any of the other cats who have gathered.

---

Bonestrike padded into the gathering a little later than normal. The pure white tom scanning the crowd of cats for Mumblepaw, the Skyclan apprentice he had made friends with. The Shadowclan warrior spotted his friend but realized he was already talking to someone. A small smile appeared on his muzzle before the tom sat a small distance away. It was good that the shy tom was making friends.

"No, I don't think so. ...Are you alright?" Emberheart asked, fixing Heatherpetal with a concerned expression. "What did you run off to go do?"

Heatherpetal heaved a heavy sigh, refusing to look behind her at the cat who infuriated her. "It's nothing important really."

She turned her attention to the WindClan cats, about the only cats she didn't have a feud with besides SkyClan, and she quickly took notice to a fluffy pale tabby apprentice sitting all by himself, looking lost and afraid (Softpaw, SillySunshine). She remembered the way she felt during her first Gathering, and she frowned. Then she stood up and called out to him, waving her tail to get his attention. "Hey, you. The pale tabby apprentice there. Come over here, I wanna get a look at you."

"E-eh?!" Softpaw startled, glancing around himself to make sure the she-cat wasn't talking to him. Oh Starclan, she was talking to him, wasn't she? He sensed an air of irritation about her, and he gulped. Had he done something wrong? Was he about to get in trouble at his first-ever Gathering? But he couldn't just ignore her. Softpaw hesitantly approached her, though everything in him told him to stay in his spot, survive until the end of the Gathering, and then never come to another one again. He couldn't even identify her scent, for Starclan's sake! There were too many cats around him, and all their scent were mingling... what if she was a Shadowclan warrior? This particular thought had Softpaw freezing in fear, and he stared at her with wide eyes, not yet close enough to hold a conversation but not far enough away to pretend he hadn't heard her. Starclan help him.

(OOC: sorry he's like seriously having a panic attack rn)

Heatherpetal blinked as their eyes met, but when he stopped moving towards her, she stood up and decided to meet him halfway. She smiled calmly down at him. "Hello. I can tell this is your first Gathering. Don't worry, no cat here would dare harm another. I'm Heatherpetal of ThunderClan, and judging by your scent you must be WindClan."

Oh thank Starclan, she wasn't a Shadowclan warrior about to eat him. "Y-yes, I'm about t-to be a Windclan w-warrior, actually..." He stuttered, trying desperately to find the courage to meet her eyes. He then realized he hadn't introduced himself and was filled with panic. "Softpaw!" He shouted, then cursed himself. "I-I mean, my n-name is Softpaw. And you're... Heatherpetal? V-very pretty name." He shyly stated, finally meeting her golden eyes. Gosh, they were pretty. Softpaw's face flushed red, all the way up to the tips of his ears. "U-um! I, uh, I'm sorry, this is my first Gathering, I'm really n-nervous..."

(OOC: No he doesn't have a crush on her he's just really awkward around pretty cats owo)

Emberheart observed Heatherpetal's interactions with the WindClan apprentice with a purr of amusement. Looking around, she tried to find someone from another Clan to talk to herself, feeling more at ease, but nobody caught her eye.

Twistedtail's green eyes grew worried as Rippedsky seemed to hold back any friendliness with her. "Ripped, are you sure everything's okay? You're not like yourself today. Is being Skyclan's deputy stressful? I want to know if everything's okay with you."




Pigeonpaw was sitting by himself at the edge of the gathering. The aging veteran still didn't know why he continued to go to the Gatherings if he just was to sit at the edge and do nothing. While scanning the arena with moon-like eyes, he noticed another cat (Tatteredleaf). She was sitting by herself too. That didn't really catch her attention but her scars did. They reminded the former rogue eerily of his encounters with Rockthorn and the Mist, and of himself.


He walked up and sat down next to her awkwardly. "Uhh.. Hulluh," he grunted through his ruined snout. "Wat's yur name? I'm P-Pigeonpaw, but yuh can also cull me Storm. It's... It's nice to mut yuh."

Condorpaw had strode in with Skyclan. The intimidating apprentice sat away from most. His piercing gaze swept across the mass of cats. He didn't mind anyone coming to say hello but he wasn't sure if anybody would've wanted to come near him with him looking like a scary predator. It was just his appearance and nothing else.

Leopardclaw padded into the Gathering a few paces behind Blizzardstar, his normal serious expression present; deeper down though, there seemed to be something different about the tom that night.  Though his expression was carefully unreadable, his paws seemed to drag a bit across the ground as he walked, and his shouldered slumped ever so slightly.  Taking his place at the foot of the rock, he didn't spare a glance for any of the deputies, not even Brindlewhisker.  He just felt...numb, and tired.  Too tired.  Heaving a heavy sigh, the golden spotted tom fixed his gaze firmly on his paws, and waited for the meeting to start.

~~

Ryeheart still wasn't used to being back in this clearing.  So much had happened under these four great oaks in his lifetime...too much in his opinion.  He remembered vividly the day he stood atop the Great Rock, the sun shining down pleasantly upon his pelt, and nearly topped off at the sight of the she-cat who became the love of his life.  This was the place where Smokefang had attacked, spilling blood on peaceful ground and threatening the cats he loved.  On top of that same exact rock was the place where he killed a cat, a tribe cat, a beloved mother...a scourge upon the forest.  The reek of her lifeblood seemed to have never left his nose, and at the very thought his skin tingled with an unpleasant feeling of warmth.  His fur may be clean from Swoop's blood, but the terrible memory of her dying breath would haunt him until he took his own.  Here....here under these trees...was where Willowpetal bled out to bring their kits into this harsh world.  Her dying request had been for him to be happy, to love and cherish and watch over their kits, to make sure they were loved...but he had failed.  He was a coward, scared to bring the kits back to his world where they both would be judged.  He had just dumped the kits with their mother's body a few pawsteps over the RiverClan border, and left them there.  He had abandoned his family...just like his mother had rejected him and Lynxkit all those moons ago.

Obvious to say, Ryeheart was no longer very fond of Gatherings.  He padded in with a downcast face and heading in no particular direction, melting into the crowd.  Memories consumed his mind, almost too many to hold, and distracted him from the real world.  He wasn't looking where he was going, and before he knew it an obstacle loomed ahead; a white tabby flank.  Realizing too late what was about to occur, the ginger ShadowClan tom crashed into the unknown cat with a yelp of shock, and immediately jumped back a pace.  "Oh, I'm so sorry about that, my mistake....ow..."  His head had collided directly with the cat's shoulder, and he rubbed it with a forepaw as it stung for a moment.  You idiot, what are you, a brand new apprentice?!  Watch where the heck you're going!

Batfang entered the Gathering by Tinytip’s side and he wrapped her tail around her, protectively. His green eyes looked at the leaders, waiting for them to start. He knew that this would be another tense Gathering.

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Pantherblaze walked behind his clan and sat down with his fellow clanmates, proud of his new name. He was one step closer to his revenge... but he still had a long way to go. The tom glanced at his father with his Riverclan mate for a second and then he fixed his gaze on the sky, a soft hiss escaping from his throat.

————

Reedheart followed his father saddened and he sat down looking at his own paws with dark green eyes. Shrewheart’s death was something that he couldn’t let go and the tom kept blaming himself for not being more careful... for not saving him.

Violetshine had followed her leader into the gathering, though she'd been more focused on searching for the cat that had brought her clan grief. Her mismatched eyes were intently focused on this to the point, she only got the tail-end of Firestone's conversation with some she-cat in ThunderClan (Heatherpetal). There was no jealousy, Firestone clearly seemed to dislike her and she was harassing him in some way. She knew Firestone, and knew well that he was a good cat, one that would never start trouble. Thus, she made her decision.

Roughly, she bumped into the she-cat, her shoulder clipping the warrior's muzzle. It took quite a bit of effort, she wasn't exactly the biggest she-cat.

"Watch yourself, ThunderClanner. We do not take kindly to those that bother our own." She meowed tersely, before slinking off with her tail held high, smoothly moving past other cats to make it clear she did that deliberately.

"Don't be nervous, this is a Gathering, no cat would dare hurt another and risk angering StarClan," Heatherpetal meowed to the nervous WindClan apprentice. "You say you're about to be a warrior? Congratulations! What do you think your warrior name will be?"

Before the conversation could continue, the she-cat yelped as he was shouldered by a small she-cat that smelled strongly of ShadowClan. She glared back at her, feeling a deep growl rise in her throat.