October's Gathering 2018

Foreboding swathes of darkly colored clouds crawled across the night sky, occasionally obscuring the nightmarish red light that rained down upon the sacred hollow. Faint glimpses of starlight were barely discernible within the frothing night sky, the cold light entirely apathetic to the terrible happenings that had transpired. The late night air was rife with a demoralizing silence, a stillness that stubbornly wreathed its way throughout the five territories with a perturbing, incessant determination. A chilly breeze, wrought with hints of approaching Leafbare, bled across the unusually stoic Fourtrees like a river, stripping the ancient gathering place of its normal warmth. Despite the unfavorable conditions that plagued this night, the Clans were to gather here with a purpose.

After spending the eve swapping countless messengers and envoys, a conclusion had been reached- it was time to devise a plan to combat Lichenmask and the Exiles.

A dried stain crawled across the brittle grasses within the center of Fourtrees, hardly perceptible due to the copious amounts of shadows cast by the eclipsed moon that sat heavily in the cool night sky. Yet, as Brindlestar carefully picked her way across the open expanse with a slightly noticeable hesitance, the long dried blood screamed for her attention in a manner that was wholly unsettling. Resisting the prevalent urge to shudder in disgust at the appalling memories that roared back to life at the sight of the old puddle of blood, the pale-furred molly was quick to hurry away from where she vividly recalled Littlestar to have spent those final moments. The slight dusting of early Leaf-Fall frost that encased the Great Rock made it rather difficult for her to easily pull herself atop the smooth stone, but the additional struggle was much more preferable than merely hanging about on the ground with all of those unpleasant memories. Idly scrubbing a forepaw against the ruffled fur atop her muzzle, Brindlestar gazed down at her milling Clanmates, unease and frustration sharpening her already scalding temperament.

It had been difficult enough arranging this meeting itself, but how were they supposed to come up with a plan that they could all agree upon?

Scorchfang had represented ShadowClan once before during a Gathering, but that was while Littlestar had fallen ill. Now, he led his Clan into the sacred meeting place with the duty permanently resting on his shoulders among all the other responsibilities he had as leader. It felt very weird not walking in with his beloved leader, and it would feel weird never having to sit among the other deputies ever again. Well, he was able to adapt to a lot of things with the death of ShadowClan's former leader. He'd be able to adapt to this as well.

He realized he and his Clan were the second to arrive, WindClan's cats still settling in. It hadn't been long at all since they assembled. Good, he would be able to have a little bit of time to think before the Gathering began. He deviated from the rest of his Clanmates and leaped up onto the Great Rock, sitting down next to Brindlestar, wrapping his tail around his paws neatly, his thick fur bushing out a little. It was a chilly night, but he knew that the shivers running down his spine wasn't just from the cold.

He turned his broad head to the WindClan leader and nodded respectfully to her. "Good evening, Brindlestar. I trust WindClan is faring well, all things considered."

---

Poppypaw grinned widely as he trotted by Orchidpaw's and Sparkpaw's sides into the Gathering with a skip in his step. He looked around in awe at the sight of so many cats gathered, and he knew there would still be more to come. "Wowie! Look at this place! It's so big! I'm so excited for the Gathering!"

"What's there to be excited about?" Orchidpaw grunted, not coming anywhere close to matching his littermate's level of enthusiasm. "We had to skip the last Gathering altogether because of that awful cat that killed Littlestar. They're probably gonna talk about how to get rid of him and his followers. Doesn't sound too exciting to me."

(OOC: Orchidpaw and Poppypaw are open for discussion :3)

Lionpaw trotted in behind Brindlestar, the crimson light still covering everything. Of course, one area in front of the Great Rock was much more colored than the rest. That must be where Littlestar died. No longer did he worry about the Exiles though. He was sure their numbers would be easy to defeat. All he thought about now was keeping his clan safe, by any means necessary. The golden fur of the large tom was quite fluffed out against the cold, and his feet tread lightly on the frosted grass. Soon he would be a warrior, he was already growing larger than some other toms his age. Then he'd truly be able to be the biggest and best warrior. For now, though, they would end up speaking of tactics. Boring. They should just rush them.

---

This was Froststone's first time to the gathering as Shadowclan's deputy. Just before the Great Rock, he noticed an area of the ground that looks encrusted in dried blood. It was though. Where Littlestar died. His eyes were dark, not only with sadness but with anger and frustration. At least Poppypaw seemed excited. He, on the other hand, was looking forward to speaking of strategy and ways to defeat the cats that had brought around these horrid events. He shook his long white fur, allowing it to fluff out to full size. It was cold, most likely because of the dreadful absence of the sun and that it was Leaf-fall. He slowly approached the base of the Great Rock, dipping his head to Windclan's deputy. Tonight would be an interesting night.

Scenting the other Clans, and hearing her brother's conversation, she knew this was the place. The place where her sight had been brutally taken. All her instincts screamed to run, run back to camp and safety, but she stayed close to Sparkpaw's side, albeit shivering with suppressed panic. Over and over, her mind played the dreadful scene as Ravenpaw walked. She would have to get over this terror if she wanted to stay updated on current events, but the place itself was the cause of her blindness. She hoped Pantherpaw's punishment prevented him from going to Gatherings. Subconsciously moving closer to her older brothers and friend, she tried to strike up a bit of conversation. "What are the other Clans like? So far I only smell fresh scents of ShadowClan and WindClan."

The Riverclan leader did not make the others wait and he with the rest of his clanmates entered the clearing as a silent, huge mass of cats, clearly larger than the other two clans. He couldn't look at the Great Rock without reminding the dead body of the tortoiseshell she-cat who was the formerly Shadowclan leader. He shivered but continued walking without looking at the spot where Lichenmask took Littlestar's life.

Taking a large leap, Jaystar took his place in the Great Rock. He was exhausted and troubled yet, unlike other times, he wasn't shaking in fear. No. He was over that stage. He couldn't be weak when his clan and the whole forest needed him to be strong, to ally with the other clan leaders to defeat Lichenmask once and for all. He took a glance at the sky with no stars before returning his attention to the other two leaders. He merely dipped his head to greet the Windclan leader but with Scorchfang it was different. "Evening, Scorchfang... how have you and your clan been?" He asked politely, just leaving a small hint of tension in his flicking tail.

Aspenstrike padded into the vast clearing full of cats alongside Flurryshine and Icepaw. The ground was frosted and his paws didn't appreciate the cold. Smiling down at his adopted son, he spoke quietly "You can go off and find some friends if you want." Slowly he sat, his smile diminishing as he stared up at the Great Rock. The subject they would speak of next would hopefully bring back the sun and moon, and kill Lichenmask and drive out his followers once and for all.

---

Icepaw, as soon as he heard his father say he could head off, went and looked for the only other cat he considered a friend. He was looking for the large, golden pelt of Berrypaw.

The young apprentice's paws seemed to move faster than his body could handle. Sparkpaw appeared a wreck as he near galloped at the heels of Jaystar. After the leader's reassuring words not long before the tom had become an apprentice, Sparkpaw tried to constantly settle the fears of the unnatural events occurring. For now, the excitement of meeting someone other than Riverclan was excited. Perhaps he was supposed to hate them but hate did not come easily to the dilute calico. As he skidded to a halt, Sparkpaw almost ran into a group of Windclan cats. His nose almost collided with the side of Lionpaw's face. Although he had never met a Windclan cat, the scent was the same as the border. His eyes brightened and his tail flicked, "Hey there, I'm Sparkpaw! I'm from Riverclan. You're Windclan, right? Who are you?"

Flurryshine pressed her fluffy white pelt against Aspenstrike's, shivering violently at a sudden chill. "It's a little cold out tonight. I really hope we'll be able to do something about Lichenmask and his followers. I'm so scared for my kits."

Berrypaw didn't mind that his mentor was more concerned about his son than him. It was clear that the young tom would want to encourage his son in his first gathering and to be honest, the golden-furred cat was grateful for that. It meant he could have more liberty to move.

As soon as they arrived, the tom's nose could scent new smells from two different clans, Windclan and Shadowclan. Thanks to Scorchfang's visit to his camp, he already knew how to identify ShadowClanners but the Windclan scent was new. Was that Brindlestar, the leader of the cats who lived in the moors? She looked kinda grumpy to him... Well, it didn't really matter. He was far too young to even approach the leaders and speak freely to them. However, he could meet other apprentices and young warriors! Searching for his friends' fur, he approached both Icepaw and Firepaw, his fluffy tail flicking with excitement. "Icepaw, Firepaw, come here! Let's meet some new cats!" He purred.

---

Firestone entered the place following closely the rest of the group until they were all settled. Once everyone was starting to take their place, the red tabby left the side of his clanmates and started searching for the Riverclan cats, who arrived soon after Shadowclan. After his meeting with Firepaw, there was a chance to meet Gingerstripe one more time!

He noticed the calico fur of his nephew next to a pair of Riverclan cats, one of them with white fur and the other with the golden pelt. With a smile, he rushed to them and called for Firepaw. "Hey! Firepaw! It's me!" He mewed as he reached his side.

---

Silverfang was tense, her fur was a mess and it was clear that she searched for isolation even in this crowded place. Her odd eyes could barely glance at the Great Rock as she settled down at the edges of the clearing. This was her fault... it was all on her shoulders. She trained Lichenmask to be like this. She made that monster who killed a leader with one movement of her claw and now all the clans were paying for her mistakes. She was no better than Lichenmask and Shade... she had to stop them. They were her responsibility... if there was a chance to defeat them, to send them to the Dark Forest even if it costed her life, she would do it without hesitation. The scarred she-cat didn't care anymore if Starclan didn't welcome her... she had to fix all this mess or she would never forgive herself...

Lionpaw jumped as he, out of the corner of his eye, saw a cat race up to him. He let out a noise of surprise and turned to face the new cat. Smelled like a Riverclanner. He didn't like Riverclanners. Fighting would be a bad idea right now though, so he forced a smile onto he face and would be pleasant. Despite the fact his golden pelt faintly bristled, that would come off as it happening because of the cold. "I'm from Windclan yeah. My name is Lionpaw. You seem excited. First gathering too?"

---

Aspenstrike pressed his pelt closer to his mate's, hoping to quell her fears for her kits. "Flurryshine, the kits will be fine. We've got many strong warriors here in Riverclan, and I'm sure the clans will also be sending warriors to help get rid of Lichenmask and his group once and for all. The kits that are apprentices have been trained as well, I'm sure the warriors will keep them out of most of the fighting. I promise on my life that I'll keep them safe." He purred this out as he curled his body around her.

---

Icepaw quickly found Berrypaw due to his size and color of his pelt. He also looked over to Firepaw, another apprentice who he hadn't talked to as much. If Berrypaw trusted him though, then so did he. "Okay, okay, we'll meet new cats." He meowed this begrudgingly. He wasn't social by any means. His ears swiveled around as he heard the joyful shouts of a warrior. By his scent, it was a Shadowclanner. Firepaw and the tom looked remarkably similar. Perhaps this was a relative, Gingerstripe was from Shadowclan after all.

Morningpaw walked to the gathering with Shadowclan. Her heart was pounding and head buzzing with anxious thoughts. This was her first gathering as Shadowclan's medicine cat and she didn't know how the other medicine cats would react to her. The other thing that was making her nervous was that Starclan wasn't here to watch them. This was a real dire situation.

Morningpaw took in a deep breath and walked over to the spots where the medicine cats joined up. She had seen them sit in this spot multiple time so she assumed this is where she was to stay. She then began to wait, tail swishing in anticipation.

Stormstrike padded into the gathering slowly, his summer-yellow eyes narrowed. both Shade and Lichenmask had embarrassed Riverclan beyond recovery, and he was determined to bring them to justice. The stormy tom flicked his tail decisively before sitting beside Silverfang, his expression changing to one of sadness. He turned to her for a moment, his mouth half-open as if he were about to say something. Instead of speaking, the young tom sighed and turned away again. What was there to say?

Breaking through the barrier of dense shrubbery that guarded the sacred hollow below, Leopardstar stepped forward into view, his usually bright golden pelt washed a haunting shade of crimson by the light of the midnight sun.  Normally before Gatherings, the tom wore a stoic expression of disinterest, borderline boredom, but not this time.  Even from a distance, one could see the fierce passion smoldering within his pale eyes, and his mouth was set in a determined grimace.  It had been about a moon since that fated meeting with Lichemask and his band of traitors, so the ThunderClan leader hadn't been all too surprised when a messenger had entered his camp earlier in the day, announcing that the clans were gathering despite the fact that it was impossible to tell if the moon was full.  Regardless if the truce truly held now, they needed to discuss what to do next.  He could only pray to any ancestor that was left within their reach that the clans could come to an agreement, and put aside their differences like they had many times before; and, as he reminded himself, he needed to do the same.

Marshstorm close by his side, Leopardstar trotted down the slope and watched out of the corners of his eyes as his clanmates began to mingle among the crowd, before padding determinedly onward towards the Great Rock.  The sight of the large stone sent a horrible chill down his spine; the last time he had seen any cat stand on this perch reserved for StarClan's chosen, it had been a fake messiah.  His eyes were drawn to the dark spot at its foot, the only sign remaining of Littlestar's lifeblood after it had been ripped from her in the most violent and terrible matter.  He paused, closing his eyes for a moment as he stood a tail-length away from the stone.  How did this happen...Grasswhisker, if you're still there...I need your guidance.  The clans are in jeopardy, nature itself had turned on us....and the cat who caused it all has the very lives of my family clutched between his bloodstained claws...

No, I can't think about that now.  This is bigger than me, bigger than all of us...ThunderClan, my beloved home, is in danger, and we need a find a way to defend it.  His resolve strengthed, Leopardstar's hazel eyes flashed with fervor as he bunched his muscles and leaped onto the Great Rock, it's faintly frosty surface making him scrabble slightly before he ascended to the peak.  Being this tall above so many cats reminded him forcefully of when he and Marshstorm had returned from Lichenmask's summit, the blood-red moon shining down on the ravine as he had announced what just occurred to his clan.  Their horrified faces when they gazed upon the moon, the disgust written in their eyes at the news that two of their own comrades had been in on the stunt...the memory should've made his stomach churn, but instead, it only fueled the fervent beating of his enraged heart.  They didn't deserve to live in fear, no cat did...and tonight, they would change that.

He landed beside Brindlestar on the stone, offering her a brisk but friendly nod before taking his usual seat by her side.  On his other side, sat Scorchfang.  He wanted to call him Scorchstar, what should've been his true title by now, but since StarClan was silent he was still stuck with a warrior's name.  Leopardstar eyed the dark gray tabby tom with a mixed look of wary curiosity and appraisal.  This cat was an unknown entity, even though he had once stepped in for the former leader.  Would he be a kind but misguided cat, like Littlestar?  Maybe a more defensive and aggressive leader, like the short-lived Leopardstar or Thrushstar?  Also...would he still be keeping up the alliance with RiverClan, or could be persuaded to neutrality like Tinystar, or support like Brindlestar?  Only time would tell.  Of course, Jaystar was there as well, and even though his instincts told him to ignore the tom and be on his guard around him as usual, he realized that that would not help anything tonight.  If he wanted the clans to unite and cooperate, he could not be the one holding them back from that.  With a not-so-easily forced nod of polite greeting, the spotted tabby tom lashed his tail and hissed in a low, impatient tone; "What under this unholy sun could be keeping Tinystar?  We need to get started, now."

Swiftstep had come in with Windclan. A small frown was plastered on his face. He had quickly taken his place and sighed softly. Fourtrees brought back bad memories. Littlestar had been killed here as well as this was the place the darkness had first covered the sky. The sun afterwards couldn't give them any light. The tom quickly turned and bowed his head as a quick but formal return greeting to Froststone.