The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE]

I can't believe this is happening.

Both SkyClan cats had the very same thought...but their reasons couldn't be more different.

Nightstorm followed the party as they surged down into Fourtrees, his jet-black pelt only made conspicuous in the gloomy environment by the small white dash on his chest...a star, if you will.  This marking had given him his original name, Night of Stormy Gales after his grandfather, Night of Many Stars.  Now, the meaning of that past life rang truer than ever to him.  There was a storm brewing this evening, both in the sky and in the tom's heart...but he knew that there was still a little bit of light the darkness could not snuff out.  If hope remained, they could not fail.

Yet, this fact was quickly dampened as he caught sight of his daughter, Jaysong, for the first time in many moons.  Though there were many reasons he was grateful that Frostwing had not been picked for the battle party, this had been his greatest concern.  He couldn't have born to see his mate, his best friend, have to watch their kit rub shoulders with the most terrible of traitors, pressed close to a tom who was destined to lead her into destruction.  Their only kit had died, his own firstborn grandkit, and he knew the pain they must feel.  He had known much loss in his long life...he only wished he could've been there to comfort her.  To tell her things would get better, that this didn't have to be the end...but thanks to his distance, they now faced each other on opposite ends of a battlefield.

Nightstorm's bright green eyes, as untelling as ever, lingered for a long moment on Jaysong and Falcongaze, before fixing determinedly on Lichenmask.  Maybe once that tom was defeated, they would see the error of their ways.

---

Fernpetal meanwhile, was enraged.

The eclipse was still ever present in the sky and had begun to do significant damage to the forest...and a single cat supposedly caused it, with the power of StarClan?  She couldn't deny that this insane occurrence was real as much as she wanted to...but she refused to accept the high-and-mighty claim that one stupid young cat could control the moon and sun.  He was just taking claim for something that would've happened anyway to peddle his star-stuck agenda, it was that simple.  He was a freeloader.

The slender she-cat's claws dug into the ground with every step, lip curled and eyes narrowed to make a venomous expression upon her usually beautiful face.  Maybe after tonight, when Lichenmask was defeated and his oh-so-powerful tail dragging in the dirt, the clans would finally see how bogus their claims were.  That there was no such thing as StarClan, no supernatural powers, no connecting dreams...it was all fake, and she was ready to help them see the truth.  First, there was a battle to fight.

Standing alongside her clanmates, the brown tabby and white bicolor stood firm, her murky green eyes surveying the clearing while her ears remained pricked for the conversation to start.  She noticed quite a few cats who seemed out of place, more scraggly and harsh than the others.  Given that the rogue Shade was also perched on the Great Rock, these must be some other rogues he had dragged along with him.  Well, so be it.  They would meet the same fate that befell the foolish clan traitors...and she was prepared to give it to them.

The ginger tabby tom stayed close to Dewshine and Firepaw, not letting either of them out of his sight. He refused to let his mate or any of his kin get harmed- not on his watch. This Lichenmask was young and probably misguided, but he had done the unforgivable. He'd threatened Gingerstripe's family. For that, and that alone, he had to be driven out. Then there was Shade- the tom's hackles raised at the sight of that smug fox-heart. The murderer who'd been responsible for Fernwing's death. He hadn't killed him that day, because he'd had other matters on his paws... But now, he would finish the job. Eyes narrowed, standing protectively by his family, the RiverClan cat determined to protect his family- at any cost.


Pricklepaw came in with ThunderClan, fur bristling, claws unsheathed. These mouse-brained cats, including his mentor, were trying to destroy everyone and everything he loved. How could Snowdrop be so- so blind? He had never really liked the she-cat, as she had obviously hated him... But it still pained him to see his former Clanmates as part of that evil group. Well, he wouldn't hesitate to fight any of them. He wasn't afraid. The apprentice's sage-green eyes burned holes into his former mentor's pelt, feeling a burning sense of dislike. She'd abandoned him... for this.

One might have expected someone of his stature to be itching for battle. While he had been known to hold a fight, having been through many, and he was certainly built for it, the tom could not shake a sense of dread that seemed to radiate from his chest and clung to every inch of his being. Battle was merely an obligation of his life's path and title. In the heat of the moment, Bearpaw would lose himself to the primal urges that were borne into every wildcat. And yet, he did not find a passion in tearing away at the flesh of another cat. It was merely something he was trained to do, not a part of who he was. At least, he hoped not. A slight frown crossed the edges of his maw as he recalled the words of Beepaw and Pricklepaw. Was he born to be a monster? To be a murderer? Bearpaw had never strived nor longed for either title.

Green eyes briefly scanned over their own party. Plenty of the cats he considered kin were here. That was where the dread stemmed from. Realizing that he would not be able to defend them all at one stuck a burr in his throat. On the outside, the massive tabby looked poised and ready to take on the opponent. Per usual, his intimidating size and elongated fangs paired with extra claws made him look an imposing force. However, Bearpaw struggled internally with the budding fear that his kin might not walk out of here. Only Streampaw and Ridgepaw had been spared from the claws of war. He did not even consider that the fate of death could ensnare him this day Not thinking as he padded forward, the apprentice found himself planted beside Hailpaw and Gladepaw. He said nothing but flicked his tail to just barely touch Hailpaw as his coat lightly brushed against her sister's. Hopefully, they understood.

It was in those eerily quiet moments that his gaze drifted over to enemy lines. Some calls, jibes from either side cut through the tension that was thick in the air. In mere moments they would meet. Yowls from many warring cats would fill the air and pools of blood would soak the earth of Fourtrees. Many cats stood beside this Lichenmask, plenty of them were once clan cats. The thought that they had all been able to turn away so easily from their clans to follow this lunatic made his stomach churn. Former Thunderclan cats, Pricklepaw's mentor among them, stood within his ranks. Before he could dwell too much on Snowdrop, his eye caught sight of another. A face that had haunted his sleep for many moons. The empty socket where several of his claws had ripped away at the eye. It was that Shadowclan cat. A strange mixture of feelings hit him in an instant. Deeply rooted self-doubt welled up at once. Regret. He had let this cat live. Horror. Where the enraged, deranged eye had once bore hatred into its enemy was now a glaring pit of emptiness. Bearpaw's maw twitched. His claws dug into the ground, steadying him. At least he had a target now.

***

Unsteady paws followed Jaystar into the clearing. Only days earlier he had been here for the first time. And not long before that, an apprentice name had been bestowed upon the dilute calico tom. It wasn't really nerves that unsteady the apprentice but rather a sense of disillusionment that washed over them as they walked. None of this was real. At least it did not seem it. Before he could blink, so much had happened to Sparkpaw in such a short time. One moment, a mere rogue, the next a proud apprentice of Riverclan. And now? One of many warriors about to fight a battle for the life of a forest he had just begun to call home. And he did not even bear a warrior title going into this battle. His paws had little time to practice the moves that all great fighters learned. He and his mentor seldom sparred. But here he was.

There was thick emotion in the air. Between rage, sorrow, fear, he could practically taste it all as his maw parted to drink in all of the mixing scents. Just like at the gathering, all five clans now stood together with a grass blade thin alliance. Sparkpaw glanced to the Windclan cats, standing behind Brindlestar. A chill ran down his spine as he looked at the leader. She did not seem as kind or caring as Jaystar. It was unfortunate they were normally defined as enemies. Nearby, he caught sight of the tom he had met underneath the blood red moon as they had gathered to prepare for this very battle. Elmpaw stood firmly on all three legs. Instead of pity, Sparkpaw felt driven on by the bravery of the other clan's cat. If it weren't for the tension of the fight that was only moments away, he might have wished the tom good luck. He padded closer to Jaystar, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from the older cat's pelt.

Part of him wished that Starlord was with them now, part of him was grateful that he would be able to return back to the camp with his other father figure waiting for him. It did not occur to the young cat that he may not return. Sparkpaw was more than happy to fight for his clan, even as he wrestled with the nerves that only seem to grow in his stomach. His voice was small as he meowed softly to the leader, "I'm ready, Jaystar. We're not going to let them take the forest." There was an innocent determination there, dictated by his youth and personality. He briefly attempted a soft smile but it fell away as he remembered the gravity of the situation. They were about fight the enemy. This was real. This was happening.

Usually Nutfur absolutely despised battle. It was never necessary, and just caused endless grief and pain. In the past, she had often gone out of her way to avoid battle, and try to stop it from occurring. Now, she knew there were some battles that couldn't be avoided. Some cat with power was too simple-minded to see any sort of sense, and caused unneeded war. Even though she knew those battles needed to be fought, she still stepped into them with a heavy heart. However, she was feeling anything but reluctant to take part in this fight. Sure, she hated that it had to happen, but she knew she was fighting for what was right, and could be proud for winning this rather than ashamed. So many of her former clanmates had turned out to be weak-minded traitors, some more obvious previous to their betrayal than others. If she saw Hillfire, she wouldn't hesitate to rip her claws through his pelt and reduce him to a bloody mess. After all he had done to her and her friends and family in RiverClan, he was now parading with a group of exiles. That tom deserved to die, just like Shade did. And Lichenmask. The embodiment of evil that she had grown to loath since the sun and moon had gone red. There was no doubt in her mind that the right thing to do was fight this battle. Without any regret.
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Bushpaw's face was flat as she entered fourtrees. Not a single hint of emotion lay on her features as she walked. This battle was going to end in failure, she was sure of it. Not for the clans, but for Lichenmask. It was a shame, really. His power would be helpful in allowing cats to follow their true Lords, but he had already used StarClan's name to get cats to follow him. Though it was an effective tactic for now, all other cats would completely abandon him once he told them what he was really doing. Of course this wasn't about getting rid of the impure. After all, he had the sun and moon on his side, and she had been chosen by them. And she wasn't at all pure ThunderClan, so it was clearly a screen to hide his true intentions. To gain more followers, take over more easily. Really, it was too bad he would lose them all in moments. Unless of course, she backed him up. If one cat spoke a shocking truth, they would see him as crazy. If two cats did, they would start believing. Perhaps that was why she had been chosen. This was her destiny. looking up at the red circle in the sky, she was suddenly filled with a sense of knowing. This battle had to be won. And she was necessary for that to happen. Sitting down, she waited for the fighting to commence. If all went as the Lords planned, she would find her way to power that night.
(Anyone who is confused by this please know she is a delusional sociopath)
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Nectarleap hated this. But no matter his emotions, he had to be a good warrior. For his clan, for his family, for StarClan. So he waited, taking Brindlestar's words into account. This fight would be fought with honor, at least by him.
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Swoopnose was there.

The fluffy brown tom padded with the rest of his clan as they made their way into Fourtrees. His eyes were on Jaystar, but also on two different white pelts with him. He was beside Lightstep, wishing to fight side by side with him. His green gaze also looked upon the fluffier pelt of his adopted son. Icepaw might face his father in combat. There was no telling how his son would react, but he prayed to Starclan that whatever the apprentice did would be the right thing. "Lightstep speaks sense. Wait until the fighting begins for that." Despite his kind nature, Aspenstrike's pelt bristled with anger towards the Exiles that faced them. If they set one claw on his family they'd understand why his name is Aspenstrike.


Icepaw's pale pelt was shining in the reddish tinge of the sky. He was ready to defend his clan with his life. He didn't think his father quite understood why he wanted to do this, but he'd need to fight someday. He rather enjoyed the thrill of battle. Perhaps he would be able to teach one of the Exiles a lesson. The heterochromatic-eyed apprentice was glad his mother opted out of the fight, that meant she would survive. His silent glare gazed at the Exiles, suddenly seeing a pelt that had been described to him as Hillfire's before the fight. Perhaps he'd have the chance to meet his father. Though it would be in combat, and they'd be fighting to the death.

Duskpanther felt hollow. The Riverclan warrior had never felt this feeling, the feeling of betrayal. Lichenmask, one of her childhood friends, was the leader of this evil. She still felt as if this was a nightmare. The poor she-cat's frail heart had been torn apart by the cruel fate life had in store for them all. Why was she, out of every other Riverclan cat, chosen to partake in the battle? She had to face cats she had known as friends. Life was truly terrible.

Contracted pupils drifted within the confines of a fiery gaze, pinpricks of darkness within volatile pools of lascivious molten amber. Lips curling back in a leisurely displace of utterly infuriating patience, Lichenmask merely leered down at the agitated Leaders and their ragged flocks of mindless fools. Illustrious teeth flashed in the dreary gloom of the stormy evening, a ghostly grimace easily detectable within the smog-like darkness that had descended upon the sacred hollow. The darkened sky trembled fiercely under the churning belts of thunder, diluted rivers of dazzling white light tracing intricate patterns as lightning split the heavens. There was a slight clamoring within the recesses of his mind, countless voices, sharpened by a sense of latent urgency, resonating within the confines of his skull. The pressure built and strengthened with each whisper, with each cry, rising to a tremulous roaring that befit the sky that quavered under the strain of such profuse noise. Yet, despite the detestable level of commotion that had arisen within his pulsating skull, a singular voice seemed to drift above them all- the sweet familiarity of Sparrowleaf's voice nearly negating the command that was quietly exhaled beside his twitching ear. "You know what must be done," the ghostly Medicine Cat's voice was soft, yet resonated with the same fierce strength of the storm that brewed high above, "You have known all along, from the very moment you first drew breath. Storm-bringer, giver of new life, the time has come." Captivating gaze growing murky under the influence of the unseen presence, the dark-furred tom's features were once again overcome by the chilling notes of prognostic knowledge. For several punishingly long heartbeats, Lichenmask did not stir nor respond to the many voices that chimed in his direction, but instead merely tilted an unseeing gaze skyward to peer at the frothing night. "Such words, Jaystar- mayhaps you've found a spine after all! But it appears its too late, since you were unable to find one in the company of such a special friend." An amalgamation of torrential memories and expeditious scheming rushed through his veins, pulsating within the quickly moving blood that circled throughout his stone-like being, "I bring you Rogues because I'd quite like to see the looks upon your faces whenever they tear out the throats of your Clanmates. Wouldn't it just be delightful to see the blood that you'd desperately like to welcome into your Clan incite such damage? You fight for the blood of all, yet the blood of all fights to see who can inflict the most damage upon you!"

Shapely head giving a slight sway under the force of an unsettling chuckle, Lichenmask's petrifying grin remained as his callous gaze settled upon the Leaders once more. "I grow weary of shouting, join me atop the Great Rock. I'd much prefer to look upon you as I speak, anyways." Sweeping his feathery tail across the empty expanse of the Great Rock in a fauxly inviting manner, there was an underlying challenge that soured the edge of his honeyed words- it was obviously a test to see if the Leaders would be brave enough to depart from the safety of their own Clans to instead find themselves isolated within the reach of the Exiles.

---

Brindlestar's gaze drifted into narrowed slits as Lichenmask finally began to speak, his jabbing words clearly meant for whatever inside knowledge that he likely held over Jaystar's head. Weight shifting slightly upon the decaying foliage that she currently stood atop, the molly's expression remained vacant as the exiled young tom continued into his spiel. It felt as though the past was repeating itself once again, the terse atmosphere eerily resembling the one that had descended upon them on the unfortunate night that so dearly resembled this one. Perhaps this was a mistake, she couldn't help but warily reflect, nearly lost beneath the shapes of Scorchfang and Leopardstar, Perhaps they should've evacuated into the tunnels to wait out whatever initial carnage befell this night. That way she wouldn't be forced to inevitably fight with half of her mind fixated upon Swiftstep, Mistpaw, or Elmpaw. Unable to dwell further upon her misgivings at Lichenmask's subtle challenge, the WindClanner's ears pricked slightly, unease strengthening.

Twisting around to gaze over her shoulder at the shape of Swiftstep for a heartbeat or two, a slight nod of reassurance being offered to her Deputy. It must be done. The realization felt sour upon her tongue as she stepped forward, clearly the first to move in response to the peculiar young tom's offer. It must be done. If I look back, I am lost. Those words had always been a meager comfort to her, during the darkest days of her life- yet on this eve, they offered hardly a tendril of consolation. Smoothly pulling herself atop the Great Rock with muscles stiffened with the inevitable preparation that this situation required, Brindlestar did not make a move to fully sit. "Speak whatever you must, I'm in no mood for cleverness."

---

Adderfeather did not wish to be here- in fact, she'd rather be anywhere but here in such a moment. She'd witnessed enough needless violence to sate a lifetime of experiences, yet it often came to her continuously without remorse. Perhaps it was just the curse of her blood, born of Ivystar's blood, to be forever condemned to live a life riddled with violence and anguish. Feeling undeniably small beneath her own flesh, the grey-furred molly lingered uncertainly within the restless grouping of her own Clanmates, shifting uneasily as peals of thunder rumbled heavily within the night air. It was easy to guise her fright under the assumption that it was solely based upon her own experiences, yet her clenched heart told otherwise. As a Deputy, Scorchclaw would inevitably be drawn to wherever the fighting was fiercest, wherever the risk could be greatest- not even taking into account the forsaken potential that he could be forced into the path of Lichenmask. Lifting herself up a bit higher so that her weight was fully perched upon her extended toes, Adderfeather had a bit of difficulty catching a glimpse of Scorchclaw in the knotted mass of cats.

Why couldn't they have both just stayed back at camp? At least then they'd both be together.

---

Elmcloud paused beside Fernpetal, gaze flicking upward at the stormy night sky for quite a long interval. It felt strange, to come to such holy ground in pursuit of such malicious goals. It was like the stories that Poppysong had told him, of the days where the Dark Forest reigned- of how they had also lost sight of the stars during those cold days. Hardly paying any mind to the words of Lichenmask or the opposing Leaders, the ruddy tom's heart ached slightly. Would Poppysong really turn her back on SkyClan? She and Crowstar would've never abandoned their former home, right? Mouth twisting into a slight grimace at the gut-wrenching inquiries, the SkyClanner's attention was forcibly fixated upon what was transpiring before him.

The Riverclan leader barely looked from the corner of his eyes at the young, dilute calico who approached to give him some reassuring words. He didn't want him to bring him to battle but Riverclan needed more claws in order to survive... and if he denied him the chance to fight, it would be seen as suspicious by his fellow clanmates. Jaystar smirked a bit at him, looking more confident than he ever was. "Yes... together, Riverclan will go through this." He mewed quietly only to his son before turning back his gaze to the Exiles' leader.

The large Riverclan tom let out a short hiss of annoyance by the response of the young tom. He was sick and tired of traitors speaking as they knew what it was right or wrong. He was so done of cats like Shade and Lichenmask... Why did all of them have to be born within the walls of his camp? All of this had just given suffering and anger beyond he could ever imagine. The tension, the stress had changed him enough to take the role that was once occupied by his mother. She wasn't perfect and neither he was yet, just like her, the grey tom was going to do everything that was needed to save his clan.

When Lichenmask requested them to go to the Great Rock with him, Jaystar couldn't help but make a disgusted face. However, he knew it had to be done and even if they were going closer to the reach of all those traitors and rogues... they were also going to be nearer to their leader. The RiverClanner fixed his green eyes on his deputy, who was by his side. "If you see any attempt from him to attack us... don't doubt to command our counterattack. Don't worry about me... lead our clan well." He whispered only to him with a determined voice. Jaystar already knew that there was a chance he could die. And during that time when he had to resurrect, the only cat that could guide Riverclan was Scorchclaw.

The leader then proceeded to step forward to the Great Rock and right after Brindlestar, he climbed it swiftly thanks to his muscular build. He said nothing but just looked with poison in eyes at the crazy tom who had caused all this madness. All this power... had been corrupted. This could be nothing but the Dark Forest's power.

Tinystar's eyes were locked on Lichenmask as he began to speak, describing the gruesome fate that he'd planned to bring upon the clans. Ears pinned back, while he knew Lichenmask wasn't going to spare them any mercy, the small leader still couldn't believe how calm the former RiverClanner sounded when speaking about their demise. Muscles stiff and a pit growing in his stomach, he knew he shouldn't have brought SkyClan into this. All the Rogues and Exiles wanted blood, so how could the group of clanmates win? They were all doomed and it was his fault that he'd agreed to fight with the other leaders.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tinystar followed the other leaders over to the Great Rock. Watching as Brindlestar and Jaystar leapt up with ease, he let out a sigh, his head titled back as he looked up the rock. Bunching up his haunches, he jumped up as far as he could and grabbed onto a part of the rock, in which he placed his hind paws on a rock just a little bit bellow him and pushed himself up onto the top of the rock where the other leaders and Lichenmask were gathering.

Not saying anything, he stood next to Brindlestar, not taking his eyes off of Lichenmask and Shade as he waited for what he had to say next. Well, whatever is was, it wasn't going to be good, and hopefully he didn't suddenly take anyone's life like he had with Littlestar...

Birdflight stood tall among the Thunderclanners. The calico warrior had accepted any fate that would be bestowed upon her during the battle. She was fighting for her clan, her children, her father, and herself. She unsheathed her claws and softly clawed the ground. The she-cat was ready for anything.
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The Windclan deputy returned the reassuring nod he recieved from Brindlestar with one of his own. When the tom saw the leader jump up to the Great Rock, he looked over to his mother. He prayed to Starclan, whoever could hear him, to not take her away from him. She was a part of him. The she-cat was a big piece of his soul and heart. He'd be lost if she died today. He sighed and turned back to watch the scene up on the large rock.
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Darkpaw was carefully watching some younger cats, all the while imagining his teeth and claws sinking into their skin. He decided that he hated the lot of them. There would be no mercy for those little "kits."
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"There's a lot. As well as some unfamiliar rogues." Crowfur answered. The tom placed his tail of Ravenpaw's back as a gesture of comfort and reassurance. "Renember your training Ravenpaw. I will be near for you." The warrior was anxious. He didn't want to fight against one of his kits. He hoped he could not face them during all of this. He also silently pleaded for them to just run away and not lose their lives.

Scorchfang narrowed his eyes up at Lichenmask, his lip drawing further back. The longer this arrogant tom spoke, the more he longed to sharpen his claws on his throat. At his request for the leaders to join up with him that sounded much more like a command in which dire consequences would be met if his demands weren't fulfilled, the large tabby tom lashed his tail once behind him in fury. Seeing Brindlestar, Jaystar, and Tinystar already stepping forward to join their enemy up on the Great Rock, Scorchfang growled lowly. He really wanted to decline, to stay put among his Clanmates where he felt much safer and less vulnerable to a swift yet painful death. But what would that say about ShadowClan? We would be seen as nothing more than frog-hearted cowards. We need to prove our bravery if we are to win this battle. I need to prove my bravery if I'm to ever be the leader ShadowClan deserves.

Stalking forward after a few moments of hesitation, the ShadowClan leader bunched up his muscles once he reached the base of the rock and leaped up, landing firmly next to Tinystar. He glared coldly at Lichenmask, making an effort not to shift his orange gaze sideways to catch a quick glance at Shade. That cat was no son of his. No kit of his would stoop this low. He needed to focus on the real threat facing the Clans right now anyway, the threat standing right in front of them, the threat that could easily take out all five Clan leaders at once if he wanted to without so much as twitching a whisker.

OOC: This is really late and my best friend's mother just died and I'm not in the mood to do anything so here you go

Pigeonstorm trailed the rear end of the Windclan group. The half-jawed tom was filled with a mix of anticipation, dread, and anger. These rogues decided to stay at the Abandoned Barn? That's where he lived all his childhood at. Raised by Bat and Pepper and all the other kind loners. 'they've made a mockery of them,' he concluded, which only added to the list of reasons why they were terrible.

Just barely biting back a slander of insults the former rogue was about to shout, Pigeonstorm quietly looked towards the barrage of exiles at the Great Rock. He hoped he would be the one to slit their throats.

---

Littlepaw was there and was scared. Yinpaw was there and was having some serious dega-vu. An was there and relishing the thought of glory.

Fallowpaw slowly padded in beside her mentor, following her to the small place tucked away in the bushes where they would be keeping their herbs and healing their injured Clanmates. Her face held the true emotions of terror, but mostly worry for those that would be fighting for the safety of the Clans today. Lichenmask's Followers and the Regime were greatly outnumbered, but their strength and experience in battle weren't unknown.

With sore and aching paws, Dustcloud padded into the Clearing with ruffled fur and dull eyes for the first time since the last 'Gathering.' She was afraid of the battle itself, but even more so of what would result if the Clans didn't win. She was well aware of her background, the product of a cross-Clan Forbidden Romance. If the Followers won, she could be chased off, held captive, killed, or worse. Even more to fear, though, was the fact that Marshstorm was also mud-blooded. This meant that their kits had quite a mix of the Clans running through their veins. The thought of those awful things happening to him and their kits was almost unbearable. So she decided then and there that she'd fight to the death, if she must, to protect her loved ones.

Once all the other leaders had leaped to join Lichenmask upon the Great Rock, Leopardstar was the last one remaining on the ground.  The spotted golden tom's expression was carefully unreadable, though his pale eyes burned with deep concentration and deliberation.  He felt as if this were some kind of...test.  To see if they had the courage to enter a place where nothing but danger waited for them, to venture into the talons of death.  He didn't want to.  Oh, how desperately he wished he could be anywhere but here at this moment, perhaps in the crowd beside his clanmates with no pressure placed on every twitch of a muscle, or even in the deputy's place of honor, supporting his leader while she made the tough decisions; but at the same time, he would've never wished horrors like this upon Blizzardshine.  Watching from the sidelines as Darkflight clambered up onto the rock would've shaken him to his core...but they would've done it.  They would've climbed up onto that beloved perch with their heads held high, still assured that it was their proper place, their birthright.  It is the duty of a leader to inspire confidence and faith in their fellows...no matter how much they trembled.  It might not be his birthright by blood...but he had gotten here in the end.  If fate had wanted him so badly, who was he to deny it?

Crouching down, the muscles in his haunches rippling, the leader of ThunderClan leaped up onto the Great Rock in a single bound, landing smoothly beside Brindlestar, so close that their shoulders brushed.  Fixing his eyes on Lichenmask, he waited for the tom's next move, whatever it may be.

Wicked tendrils of atrocious scheming bled freely from the fiery embers of Lichenmask's gaze, a cruel knowledge sharpening the vociferous glare that was fixated upon the wary Leaders who unwillingly came before him. The stray rivulets of eerie white light occasionally illuminated the drab setting, bleaching the terse surroundings in a stark white color that voided them of any preexisting rich colors. Unease bled profusely from the bristling coats of the Leaders, the stench clinging to them as the fragrance of disease wept from untreated wounds. They were frightened, he had known such a factor all along, but who could blame them? They're alone, they've been alone since the moment he had been conceived. Leisurely lifting a narrow forepaw upwards, lean muscles hidden beneath carefully smoothed fur flexing sharply, to reveal several dark claws that gleamed menacingly in the heady darkness. "I take no joy in what you've caused, nor do I find amusement in what you've begun. Your inability to see beyond your own whiskers has set forth events that you cannot fathom, you have welcomed this darkness into your own hearts. I offered you a chance to stand against what comes in this long night, yet you have turned upon survival and salvation- and condemned countless of others to perish within a life with no stars." Carefully rolling his forepaw in a gentle manner, the young tom's gaze remained fixated upon the fully extended claws that protruded heavily from his extremities. Feathery tail giving an agitated twitch, the faint droplet of sorrow that rung softly within the chilling words was much too genuine. For the briefest of moments, Lichenmask once again resembled the mere innocent youth he had been prior to Sparrowleaf's interference, the unknowing progeny that Goldeneye had loved so dearly. "I have failed you once, but I shall not do it again. Forgive me." Now! The time is now! Finish it, cleanse them. The first storm and the last- the bringer of new life.

What happened next was so quick, so immensely bizarre, that many of the countless observers were left with gaping maws.

One. Suddenly, the frothing night sky was heaving in an unnatural way, broiling and stirring with a frightening intensity that made one tremble. Lichenmask's extended forepaw was quickly flicked downward in a smooth, singular movement that made the stormy night sky scream in anguish as a stream of lightning was suddenly parting the darkness as it descended to the earth. The brittle earth bellowed and convulsed as the lightning touched down just shy of the Great Rock, an explosion of blinding white light rushing through the hollow with enough force to rattle the ancient oaks themselves. Although the immediate strike of lightning was fortunate enough to leave the gathered cats dazed but free of injury, the storm of flames that erupted in place of where the lightning had previously touched down was not as kind.

The light, once muddy and riddled with faint rivulets of viscous crimson, had transformed into something else entirely- drenching the hollow and all of its inhabitants in the harsh, acrid light of flames.

Two. Without missing a beat, the dark-furred tom was rounding upon the stunned Leaders. Brief seconds slid away with more and more vigor as he descended upon the cats before him with the speed and ferocity of the lightning itself. The dreadful whispers that muddled his mind arose into agonizing howling at his startling attack, drowning out the roaring of flames and terrified cries. One moment, Leopardstar was peering at him with wide eyes that reflected nothing but the flames that licked higher and higher into the air around them, and in the next a dark spray of blood went raining down upon the smooth surface of the Great Rock as a terrible wound was opened upon his throat. Leopardstar's sightless eyes were rolling up into the depths of his head like a freshly culled animal, the foul stench of death already clinging to his rapidly stiffening form as he began to topple backwards into the flames.

Three. Whirling around so that he could gaze out upon the cats who milled uncertainly below the Great Rock, desperately shifting to avoid the rapidly rising flames, the smoke that arose from the fire hung heavily in the night air like an unnatural curtain. "My Warriors, bringers of light and enforcers of our Ancestor's will! Slay the Leaders, slay the Deputies, slay every last Warrior and Apprentice who stands here tonight!" Lichenmask bellowed above the roaring flames, outline roughly obscured by the heat that warped his form, "No cat who scorns the will of our Ancestors shall draw another breath after this night! Glory or death!" Plunging down from the Great Rock, Lichenmask was quickly lost to the flames and smoke that encircled the ancient stone in a threatening manner.

---

It felt as though Brindlestar had been plunged within the river during the coldest eve of Leafbare. Terror slunk through her veins at an antagonizing pace, muddling with the sheer shock that Lichenmask's actions brought forth. Watching with a gaze so wide that one could glean the whites of her eyes, the pale-furred molly's ears went back as the Exile brought lightning down from the night sky. This couldn't be possible! A single thought resonated through her whirling mind as the Exile immediately directed his attention to the Leaders, descending upon Leopardstar with outstretched claws. This couldn't be possible! The golden tom's blood spattered across the entirety of her face, making her flinch unabashedly. The heat that was exuded by the blood that speckled her face made her nauseous and even more dismayed. Even a heart as cold as hers was no match for the unadulterated strike of terror that glided through her being.

How could this be possible?
How could StarClan let such a cat draw breath?

Watching with wide eyes and jaws agape as Leopardstar began to tumble backwards in the direction of the curtain of flames, something stirred within her. If it had been any other Leader, she wouldn't have felt a single inkling of horror or guilt- but this was Leopardstar, Leader of a Clan who had given aid when never obligated to do such, who had offered to share what little they had. Reacting out of instinct and carelessly turning upon Lichenmask with seemingly deaf ears, the WindClanner hardly even realized she was moving. Forepaws clumsily lashing out in a hasty attempt to grab onto the mortally wounded tom, his greater weight still sent the pair lurching closer and closer to the edge of the Great Rock and the flames that roared hungrily below. A hiss bubbled through gritted teeth as Brindlestar desperately struggled to keep both herself and Leopardstar balanced upon the precarious edge, features screwing up against the profuse heat that wafted upwards. Struggling and thrashing frantically, her muscles strained sharply as she futilely tried to drag Leopardstar back away and onto the safety of the stone.

A terrified gasp exploded through Brindlestar's chest as the pair inevitably went cascading into the wild flames below, leaving nothing but rapidly cooling blood and deep gouges in the surface of the Great Rock in their wake.

---

Watching the chaos unfold with a wide eye, Adderfeather's gasp caught mid-throat as both Leopardstar and Brindlestar seemingly went plunging to their death. Practically trembling beneath her thick coat, the grey molly was quick to break rank and descend upon whatever unfortunate cat she could reach first- one whom was apparently a Rogue affiliated with Lichenmask's cause. "You should've never come here!"

Adderfeather used Run-and-Tackle, Dealing -9 [+3 for lack of focus] in Damage & -10 in Stamina.

ADDERFEATHER
40/40 [HP]
120/130 [SP]

CHASE
34/45 [HP]
140/140 [SP]

---

To many, it would feel wrong to turn claws and fangs upon former Clanmates- but to Elmcloud, these cats had made it abundantly clear that they were not true Clanmates to those who shared their blood. They were filthy turncoats willing to forsake everything for the pleasure of some madness-driven tom. "Traitor!" He roared, neatly springing off a tree root to descend upon his former Clanmate Falcongaze with outstretched claws.

Elmcloud used Leaping Bound, Dealing -14 in Damage & Costing -10 in Stamina.

ELMCLOUD
100/100 [HP]
270/280 [SP]

FALCONGAZE
86/100 [HP]
280/280 [SP]