The Darkest Night [closed, PLOT]

It was the first chilly evening of the season. The night air, heavy with a cool dampness that insinuated a whisper of rain, was wrought with a sticky breeze that brought forth a biting rawness that crept through even the thickest of pelts. Thick swathes of richly colored clouds crept across the dark sky with a foreign sense of urgency, occasionally obscuring the silver rivulets that poured down from the overly swollen moon. Perhaps it was the uncomfortable chill that plagued the forest or perhaps it was the stifling sense of dread that pressed down upon every living being, but even the most lively of nighttime critters remained silent upon this eve. The faint starlight one was able to glimpse between waves of stormy clouds was cold and detached, offering nothing but the frosty light of judgement from the eyes of those long gone. Seated atop the Great Rock as though he had never left, Lichenmask's slight form was nothing more than a wavering shadow amongst the ravenous darkness that had befallen Fourtrees. Despite the bitter cold that crept up from the Great Rock in the form of a never ending well, he did not move- perhaps he had lost the ability to do so. It certainly felt as though. He had won countless battles waged, and yet the war was no closer to the horizon than it had been whenever he had first began this campaign. Features creasing downward in a frown, the faintest ghost could be occasionally glimpsed amidst the rolling moonlight.

After exchanging admittedly harsh words with every Leader, it had proved to be quite troublesome spreading the word of their current meeting, but thankfully it appeared that the endeavor proved to be successful. A shrill breeze curled its way through the rippling branches of Fourtrees, shaking the sacred hollow alive with countless different murmurs of stirred foliage and swaying undergrowth. Alongside the refreshing mouthful of crisp, cold night air, the gentle gust also brought forth the faint scents of various cats and the slightest sound of pawsteps. Tufted ears twisting forward to a station of complete attention, Lichenmask shifted atop the frigid stone, blood curling in with a fierce sense of anticipation. It was almost time, finally almost time. Somewhere behind the whirling thoughts that bellowed within his mind and the blood that roared within his ears, he was almost certain he could hear the soft voice of Sparrowleaf whispering somewhere deep within the recesses of his mind. Appearing as though he was made entirely of stone, Lichenmask was nothing more than a shadowy outline atop the Great Rock, with only his burning gaze visible to the rapidly approaching guests who were currently nearby. It was time, but would they listen?

Making his way into the clearing with the other few WindClan cats at his side, Rockjaw made his way over to the Great Rock and sat down in front of it, his gaze looking up at Lichenmask, who sat upon the rock, his pelt just barely outlined from the moonlight as if he was a leader at one of the gatherings. The newly appointed warrior's long, fluffy tail wrapped around his white paws in a neat fashion, and the large tom stayed quiet, curious as to what would be shared with them tonight.

Thornleap padded close behind Rockjaw, the tall warrior rolling his broad shoulders as he glanced around. Others were beginning to emerge from the shadows- vaguely familiar faces, bright in the light of the moon. The gray tabby flicked his feathery tail and sat down near the front of the gathering crowd, staring up at Lichenmask with pale, unblinking eyes.

Hillfire had followed Lichenmask to Fourtrees, feeling less doubtful but more nervous. Now he had a reason to trust this specific clanmate, knowing that the young warrior would bring his clan to glory. And even if he brought the other clans along, that was just to stop them from ruining everything. A he looked up at the slightly older tom, his blue eyes shone with determination, a proud grin on his face. Their savior was from his clan. The best clan. While his appearance did not show it, beneath his arrogance lay fear. Last time, while he had his doubts about how much was true, it didn't seem as serious. This time, however, he knew the weight of the situation. Hopefully this would rid the forest of weakling for seasons to come, before one mousebrain ruined it all again. But a fresh start would at least help. But if they failed, or a leader ordered against the movement, they were all in danger of failure and  sever punishment. It was far from fair, but it was the truth. If Jaystar disliked the actions of the group he had put himself into, he would be in a mountain of undeserved trouble. Still, the risk was worth it. Saving the forest at the risk of putting himelf in danger was fine by him. Unlike what everyone thought, he wasn't as selfish as he appeared.

Frostpuddle had followed Hillfire, and Lichenmask to the gathering area. She had seen what Jaystar welcomed into the clan. She didn't understand why he would let a murderer in or why some of the more senior warriors agreed with his choice. She didn't like it one bit. They needed to listen to the code or else Starclan was going to punish them. And punishment is what they would get.. At this point she would follow Lichenmask into war if it meant saving the clans. She would accomplish their goal no matter what.

Slowly, Jaysong padded into Fourtrees with a stride in her step. Her plan from the last meeting had been put into action- Now she'd get to see how it went. Her long calico fur was groomed down, with only its usual tuft sticking out between her ears. A fluffy tail billowed out behind her, occasionally tickling Falcongaze's nose when he fell behind her as the two trekked all the way to the meeting. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited to hear what Lichenmask had to say, and she was eager to hopefully prove that her plan would work out for the better of their growing group.

Beetlemask entered the clearing close to Snowdrop. He was excited. For the firt time in forever cats were united and ready to those rotten foxhearts who dared to break the Code and the clans with their filthy blood. Leopardstar was going to pay for all the wrongs he had done to the clan. For letting Sharptooth live after her crime... for not being there to make him a warrior but the deputy. That rogue didn't deserve to be leader. And Lichemask was going to help them all. The young cat was going to follow him no matter what.

Padding close to Beetlemask’s side was Snowdrop. Her tail lashed in anger for the injustice her Clan received, what with tainted blood and a constantly shattered code. Just recently, Marshstorm seemed to feel himself worthy of assigning her to a second apprentice — this one having tainted blood, too! Just like a non-pure ThunderClanner to assign non-pure ThunderClanners to pure ones, or the other way around; she still remembered her own mentor having rogue in his blood and Beetlemask’s having nothing but disgusting kittypet in hers. She didn’t even ask for a second apprentice! Training one lazy, mousebrained excuse for a forest cat was hard enough!

Needless to say, she was thrilled to be meeting with Lichenmask tonight. Even if it meant having to socialize with or even, StarClan forbid, work together with cats such as Hillfire, she truthfully didn’t really care. So long as the Clans were purified once again.

Wrenpaw quickly came into four tree's yet stayed her distance as she looked at the great rock where Lichenmask sat. I wonder what wil happen today... she sat down as she nervously watched the other cats come into the clearing. She had to admit she was really, really scared more then she was normally. She just had that gut feeling...like something was wrong then again that feeling was not unusual for her.

Falcongaze padded into fourtrees. The feeling of coming to this place felt a little different as a warrior, but no less important. He noted the appearance of other cats from the clans, but stayed close to Jaysong like a shadow. His yellow eyes bright in the moonlight as he looked up to where Lichenpaw sat on the great rock. The tom seemed larger now... time had passed, and if he was a warrior then it stood to reason that Lichenpaw now had a warrior name as well. He sat down next to the calico she-cat as he observed the bitter moods of the ThunderClan cats as they arrived.

"Something crawling up your pelts, Snowdrop, Beetlemask?" He asked mildly. No deeply rooted interest in ThunderClan's politics, but a small amount of curiousity.

Fallowpaw trotted into fourtrees, finding herself disturbingly excited for what was coming next. For several moons now, Lichenmask, the young cats who followed him like herself, and all of their plans, had been nearly all she thought about. Although she was frustrated that she had not yet gained a warrior status, she was glad that she could still do her part. The Clans were full of impure blood... and she was ready to change that.

Mothpaw padded quickly and quietly after Thornleap and Rockjaw into the clearing now milling with many cats from different clans. It was almost like a gathering except they had a purpose. A real purpose. They were going to make the forest pure again.

Darkpaw's large frame could be spotted walking behind Mothpaw. The tom was ready to purify the clans, get rid of the poison from the inside. That and he was still pissed that he wasn't made a warrior yet. Couldn't his clan see how strong and great he was? Windclan needed more cats like him, leading them on to victory.

Brushgaze padded at the head of ShadowClan's delegation, slipping through the shadows with ease as they approached Fourtrees. This meeting was bound to reveal all of them as followers of Lichenmask, but she was fine with that. It was her destiny to follow in his pawsteps and to aid his every action, just as it was his destiny to save them all. Her pale green eyes, for which she had been recently named, reflected the overlarge moon's cold, glimmering light as they sought out the tom's slim form atop the Great Rock. With nary a word, she nodded to him, then sat with heart pounding in the deputy's spot once more. She would claim this honor, and she would assist her friend- no, her leader- in any way possible.

Tonight promised to be interesting.

As the small group of ShadowClan cats entered the clearing, one cat lingered at the back of the crowd, his pawsteps much more unsteady than the rest.  Aspenpaw staggered into the clearing, his lungs heaving with the effort of trekking all the way across ShadowClan's marsh to Fourtrees...in his condition.  The gray tabby tom was a miserable sight; his shoulder was crusted with dried herbs and blood, a wound that was clearly very fresh.  Most noticeable of all though...was his right eye, or rather lack thereof.  The empty socket was packed with bloody cobwebs, and the fur around the wound was raw and scarred, showing the marks of the seven claws that cat had used to steal away one of his most vital assets.   His muscles shook with exhaustion, yet he kept going, fueled by pure determination to see Lichenmask, to tell him of this ThunderClanner's wretched deeds...to get his revenge.  He knew that the leaders would be attending this meeting, if he got the chance maybe he could tell Leopardstar face to face what his idiotic apprentice had done to him.  It would probably be better to let Lichenmask tell him off though...he was the one who truly held the power.  He padded farther into the clearing so that the moonlight could illuminate his face for all to see.

Tonight...ThunderClan would pay.