West Shore Gathering [Swept Away Topic]

Lynxtail padded ahead of his group, his ragged pelt ruffling against the harsh wind that blew. "Nearly there," His voice was hoarse from lack of water, not unlike the sound of a boulder tumbling down a rocky cliff. These past few days had taken quite a toll on the young tom: it was a miracle that he hadn't stumbled and fallen yet, and his once-bright eyes were dim. Passing up meals to feed the apprentices seemed easy at first, but it was surprising on just how exhausted he grew without any food in his stomach. What he wouldn't do for a mouse right now... "Keep up, Magpiepaw."

”H-Help!”

“Almost there, mommy.”

“You just need to wake up.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“Whatever.”
“It.”
“Takes.”

Foxpaw’s teeth hurt. Blood welled in his mouth. Not his blood. His mothers blood. Her scruff has opened and bled. From the constant dragging. The constant crying. The left aide of her fur would be permently stained with mud. Her right side would be permently stained with tears. She could never lap at her pelt again. Never again. Never see Foxpaw again. Never again. But he kept going. No matter what. His teeth felt as if they would break. But he kept going. With every heart wrenching tug. His mothers body was cold, her broken leg dragged. Foxpaw wasn’t that skinny. He had found a mouse nest but thrust but at him. But he kept going. Saliva mixed with blood dropped from his jaws and plastered down his mother scruff. But he didn’t stop. He would never. He looked up and saw a cat like figure.

”Help!”

Myrtlepaw followed after Lynxtail and Magpiepaw, her long-furred tail trailing low behind her. Her muscles still ached from when she arrived on the shore but she had uttered not a word of complaint. She was solely focused on doing as much as she could for the other cats, Clanmates or not. Of course she was hungry and thirsty and tired too but complaining about it wouldn't do anyone any good. The water here was dirty and littered with Twoleg trash; just smelling it made her whiskers curl. Maybe there would be a puddle in a ditch somewhere that she could drink. She looked up when Lynxtail spoke, her ears flattening back against her head for a moment. Nearly there...and then we can rest, she thought.

She stopped in her tracks when a cry for help sounded behind her. Myrtlepaw spun around over her shoulder, craning her neck to see what was wrong. There seemed to be another cat there, dragging a body. The marbled tabby swallowed hard, her empty stomach lurching for a moment as if she was going to be sick. She shook her head vigorously, then gathered what energy she had left to race towards Foxpaw. As she got close enough she examined the situation. This older she-cat must have been very important to him, maybe his mother or mentor. She dipped her head in respect towards the lost cat, then wordlessly took a hold of the scruff and began pulling with Foxpaw. "I'm so sorry for your loss," she murmured through the fur in her mouth. "I'm here to help."

Acornfall walked through the rubble, precariously placing her paws to the cliff face.  It wasn’t like any climbing she had done before, but her climbing skills really came in handy in this situation.  The ginger warrior slipped, almost falling before catching herself.  She pushed on through, not daring to look behind.  At last, the she-cat arrived at the place where the flying stars led them, a flatter clearing with more gravelly rocks and a giant rock for the group leader to call to the rest of the conjoined clans - and non-Clan outsiders, she realized.

~

Larkfeather carefully climbed the rocks, scaling them with quite skill.  However, he wasn’t as sure about his climbing ability, so he took a while before he reached the top of the cliff.  The raging waters below kept him going, as he didn’t want to flail in the water again.  The first time was enough for him.  He wished that he was with the rest of the clan cats, but he knew that they had their own problems that they have to deal with.  I still have some of my clanmates, at least, he thought as he sat down at the gathering-place, a ruddy gravel-filled area that had a giant rock for the leader to call an announcement.

The scent of death clogged Scorchclaw's nostrils.

It had been one week—exactly one week—since he had washed up on an unfamiliar shore following the river's flooding. It had also been one week since Gingerstripe's and Dewshine's deaths. Their bodies had not quite begun the process of decay, but the stench they were already giving off was enough to make a cat's stomach turn. The RiverClan deputy was dangerously close to questioning his sanity. His jaws were currently locked around the former's scruff; the rancid taste of fur sticky and damp from StarClan-knew-what staining the insides of his mouth. Death danced before his face, it's intangible fingers curling around his whiskers and playing with his ears. With every fiber in his being, he longed to throw the body down and flee at least twenty tail-lengths away from it. Yet he was somehow doing the exact opposite. Pawstep after pawstep, he lugged the corpse along. Gingerstripe's stiffened legs stirred the gravel, carving out a visible trail on the ground. Outwardly, Scorchclaw struggled to hold him up. The dead warrior was a full-grown cat, and death had not reduced his weight at all. The rough, sloping terrain served as a further obstacle. Internally, however, he was engaged in the mental struggle of holding down the queasiness that continuously threatened to overtake him. He was touching a dead body—a dead body that had been lying out for seven days. If he listened closely enough, he just might have heard a certain voice in his heart on the verge of hysterics; for such reasons, he did not dare think too deeply on the current situation. Only a little further. The thought was a mantra drumming within his head. The large tabby had already lost count of how many times he had thus encouraged himself.

Before the flood, Scorchclaw had never imagined that he would be dragging a seven-day-old corpse in search of a sign from StarClan. Before the flood, however, the thought of having to care for three new-born kits had never occurred to him either. He had never expected to be separated from his clan. For better or for worse, the large tabby was not alone. Wasppaw and Flurryshine padded along behind him, each with their own burden. Wasppaw was carrying the kits, while Flurryshine had Dewshine's body. The RiverClan deputy did not see how the current situation could possibly be any good for the kits. Scratch that statement; it could not possibly be good for any of them. The corpses needed to be buried. In fact, he had wanted to bury them the very day they had washed up on the shore. There was just one reason he had not been able to—Flurryshine. The white she-cat's grief was so deep and so sharp that Scorchclaw could barely reach her through it at all. Neither emotion nor logic had been enough to convince her. In the face of such overwhelming pain, what could one possibly do? He had given in. There was no other choice. Wasppaw was also grieving the loss of her younger sister. Neither of them were in a good place right now.

And Scorchclaw? Scorchclaw was all right, because he had to be strong. If he failed to be strong, they would fall to shambles. He had no time to grieve, no time to spend fearing for their future. He had to think. He had to use his resourcefulness to its fullest. He was all right. He could not be anything other than "all right."

Thus, the RiverClanners made their entrance.

Dapplekit's eyes had opened just a few hours before. Her blue eyes, a replica of her mothers, gazed around from where she clung to Wasppaw's shoulder, looking in wide-eyed amazement at her surroundings. For a long time she looked towards the cat that she believed was her father, who was up ahead dragging something with him. Her mind tried to formulate a thought before she was distracted by a flash of white at the edge of her vision. Silently, she slowly turned her head to look at the she-cat who's smell had grown so familiar, but still wasn't quite right. Blinking at the white furred she-cat, she let out a quiet mewl of hunger and tiredness.

Mintwhisker's paws shook as she made her way towards the other cats. "Thank Starclan," Her voice was rough from a mixture of lack of use and lack of water; it sounded more like a rock tumbling down a cliff than anything else. Still, it was easy to detect the note of relief. Clearly, she thought she was one of the last survivors.
Luckily, this wasn't the case. Although the Medicine Cat was prone to anxiety, it wasn't until the second Sunrise that she gave the itching voice of fear in the back of her mind any thought. Surely, surely Skyclan was safe. Still, in the little pockets of stillness when the predawn light had yet to shine on the world or when the sun had just disappeared below the unfamiliar, alien horizon, she allowed herself a break from the endless searching, fruitless hunting, and herb scavenging. That was when they struck: without a distraction (an herb store to organize, apprentices to heckle, a leader to consult) her anxieties were given room to pounce without interruption. If she were the last cat on earth, how would she survive? There was a reason she'd abandoned her warrior training in favor of becoming a Medicine Cat. Not only did Crowstar will it on behalf of Starclan, but it was clear that she would make a dismal warrior. Even Firflower used to seem worried when she returned from a patrol without a sparrow clutched in her jaws. Yes, she wouldn't last on her own without warriors providing for her, and she would rather die than wander Twolegplace and scavenge, or Starclan forbid, live in one of the Twoleg nests.

She, like all the others, had scrambled towards the light as soon as it shone. And what did she see when she managed to finally reach the crest of the steep hill she'd been climbing but a whole host of familiar faces, vague and drawn tight with worry though they may be. She was safe, and as soon as she was able, she'd repay their endless hunting and fighting by healing them to the best of her ability.

Meadowpaw trembled as she stumbled into the gathering. She had been alone, the only cat's she'd seen were from other clans, so she avoided them. Who knew what these starving, desperate cats would do. But hunger and loneliness had driven her towards the sounds of cats, and she hadn't been able to stay away. As she stumbled in, she saw a familiar face. "Fluryshine!" Meadowpaw yowled with joy, now filled with energy. She hadn't seen her sister since the flood, so she had assumed the worse. But as she came up on her sister, she noticed something. She was carrying her mentors body. "Oh, Fluryshine..." Meadowpaw knew how strong of a bond they had shared.

The crack of the flare startled Marshstorm from where he and Leopardstar had been standing. They had reached a simple impasse as to where exactly the other cats must have gone. His heart rose with the light of what seemed to be a star on fire. He glanced to Leopardstar, then forced himself into a run. His stomach growling, but he paid it no heed as he pushed forward to find where that star had been falling.

It took him several moments. He began to doubt himself, but relief flooded his chest to see cats. Some he knew, some he didn't. The sight of Lynxtail filled him with joy.
"Lynxtail!" He called as he pelted down towards the young tom, stopping only a tail length away to avoid scaring away his friend. "You survived the flood! Thank StarClan! Have you seen any of the others?" He asked, hopeful that perhaps more ThunderClan cats had washed up close to them. From what he could see, the young tom seemed to be the only other ThunderClan tom to be at this impromptu gathering.

He listened to the answer, his nose cringing up at a scent that flooded through the air nearby. He coughed and turned towards it. Bodies... kits. His heart ached at the sight. His gaze turned and sought out Leopardstar in hopes he had been right behind him.

"I-I'm coming!"  Magpiepaw jogged in Lynxtail's wake, his shorter legs working double-time to keep up enough speed.  The last few days had been absolutely exhausting, and all of the cats in their group were starting to show it.  Though he tried to hide it, Lynxtail obviously wasn't quite as stable on his paws as before, and the bi-color tom glanced behind him to make sure Myrtlepaw was keeping up okay.  Despite all the dirt and knots, the older she-cat was still beautiful, and he felt his ears flush with warmth as he turned back forward, avoiding her gaze.  Finally, he began to catch sight of many other cats, probably called here as well by the startling red stars.  To his horror though, many of them carried dead bodies.  His stomach churned as Myrtlepaw ran off to help an apprentice support the body of a much older cat, and he couldn't hold back a gasp as he saw Scorchclaw, the warrior Gingerstripe hanging from his jaws.  The familiar scent of death wafting around the shore, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from gagging.  No...I need to be brave.  I need to help, somehow...  Trying to keep his limited composure, he trotted away from the group as the ThunderClan deputy appeared at Lynxtail's side, making a beeline towards an apprentice he thought was named Wasppaw.  She was burdened down by three small kits.  "I-I can help...h-here, let me take o-one."  A tiny dappled gray she-kit was clinging to the tortoiseshell apprentice's back; reaching up, he gently grabbed her scruff between his teeth and lifted her down, placing the kit on the pebbly ground.  He remembered vividly his own days as a kit, when any sudden movement or noise scared him half to death...well, that was still kind of the case, but at least he had gotten a little better.  In this scary time, he wanted to make sure the kit wasn't worried.  "H-Hi, I'm M-Magpiepaw.  Everything's g-going to be okay, I'm going to m-make sure you're s-safe."  He forced a soft smile, for both their sakes.  I wonder who's kit she is?

---

Leopardstar flinched as a loud crack rang through the air, halting him mid-step.  What the...?  To his disbelief, the golden spotted tabby tom watched as streams of bright red light lifted into the sky, illuminating the lake and the shore ahead.  Were those...cats?  The shadowy forms of creatures unknown rippled through the shadows, and the ThunderClan leader felt his heart flutter, hope battling against doubt.  Is it the clans?  Are they here after all?  Before he could say anything though, Marshstorm broke away from his side, running off towards the gathering crowd.  After a moment of hesitation, Leopardstar followed, his sore paws and aching joints fading into irrelevance.  His family could be there, just tree-lengths away...his clan could be safe!  With a smile, he leaped over a boulder and landed beside Marshstorm, who had seemed to catch sight of someone familiar...  Lynxtail!  His son was there, greeting his friend...it was a sight he had dreamed about for days!  He caught sight of many other cats as well; Scorchclaw of RiverClan and Mintwhisker of SkyClan, most notably.  No leader though was in sight...besides him.  His heart screaming in protest, Leopardstar forced himself to walk to the front of the crowd, surveying a large rock atop which he could climb.  I'll greet you soon...I promise.  With a pained grunt, the muscular tom clawed his way to the stone's peak, the view looking out over the crowd forcibly reminding him of the Highrock.  StarClan, he missed the forest so much...  Taking a deep breath, Leopardstar let out a yowl, calling every cat's attention.  "Cats of all clans, greetings!  I am glad to see each and every one of you here in more or less one piece."  He smiled, for a moment taking in the faces of all these somewhat familiar cats...he recognized some from Gatherings, others were new.  Nonetheless, they had all survived to make it to this point; so, they must work together, no matter the differences.  "I would like to ask every leader, deputy or medicine cat present to join me up here, we need to discuss our options together."

The small kit's attention turned to the black and white apprentice that made his way over to them, watching him curiously as he approached. She tilted her head at him when he stopped and said something, and when she felt teeth meet her scruff she hesitated a moment before releasing her grip on Wasppaw. As the tom set her on the ground, her paws scrambled momentarily on the rocks under them before she gained her footing, although her legs still wobbled beneath her body. Looking up at Magpiepaw with wide blue eyes, she quietly mewled to him, blinking as he smiled. She tried to take a shaky step forward, but between her newfound legs and the rocks beneath her paws she stumbled forward, sprawling in the pebbles on her belly with a confused mrow. Still sprawled on the ground, she looked up to the apprentice, embarrassed now. "I'm... Dapplekit...." She spoke meekly, quietly, still trying out her voice.

Magpiepaw winced as the little she-kit tripped over her own paws, his anxiety flaring more and more by the second; why did you put her down, she's so young!  She probably can't even walk yet...or can she?  I don't know the first thing about watching kits, maybe I should give her to someone else...  Though his heart began to beat a bit faster, he knew that he was being dumb.  She was a kit, not a delicate little leaf, one little stumble wouldn't hurt her.  Still, as she purred her name he crouched down to nudge her back to her paws, golden eyes narrowed a bit in concentration and concern.  "I-It's nice to meet you D-Dapplekit...sorry for l-letting you fall o-over."  He tried to purr, but it just sounded forced to his ears.  Before he could say anything else though, he heard a cat yowl from above them and looked up to see a huge golden tom standing on a rock, his pelt dirty and matted, yet his hazel eyes still glowed with strength and regality that reminded him of Jaystar and Scorchclaw.  Could that be...Leopardstar?  The ThunderClan leader?  Intrigued - and a bit intimidated - Magpiepaw sat down to listen as he would for a clan meeting, Dapplekit nestled between his front paws.  It was so cute how tiny she was...and made him suddenly aware of how much he had grown over the moons.  Jeez, how did I used to be that small?  The memories of kithood though reminded him of his siblings, and he quickly pushed the thoughts away.  He didn't see Egretpaw, Cranepaw, Ospreykit or Raggedpaw anywhere in the crowd; at least, not yet.  Smiling, Magpiepaw pointed his tail up at the 'leader's rock' and purred; "Look Dapplekit, c-can you see up t-there?  It's the l-leader of T-ThunderClan...do you k-know about t-the other clans y-yet?"

Mothpaw approached the group of cats with a hesitation she hadn't ever felt before. She was usually energetic and eager to socialize, but now she just wanted to curl into herself and hide from the rest of the world, possibly forever. Maybe it was that she still felt almost entirely alone: she'd found Thornbriar, but while she certainly cared for and respected her mentor, she was still thinking about her family. Mostly Scorchstar and Silentpaw: where were they? Were they here, somewhere among the gathered cats? She could only hope so, because she refused to consider the alternatives.

The kit propped herself on the muzzle of the tom, using his support to sit back on her haunches. Once she had sat down, she smiled up at the apprentice. "It's okay! I haven't done much.. walking yet." She jumped at the sudden yowl from above her, pads scrambling against the stone as she instinctively crouched at the loud noise, taking shelter between Magpiepaw's paws. As the noise faded, she relaxed slowly, peering out from between Magpiepaw's legs. After a heartbeat more, she sat back down, nestling into the space. When the tom spoke, she twisted her head to look up at him, and shook it slowly. "The leader?... Of... ThunderClan?... What clan are we?..." She asked, curiosity peaked. The only cats she had known was her father Scorchclaw, Flurryshine, Wasppaw, and her siblings.... And the two cats that had been sleeping that they carried with them. The one was so familiar... She assumed it was her mother. Why she wasn't waking up she wasn't sure, but... She must just be really tired. Lifting a shaky paw to gesture towards Flurryshine with Dewshine's body, then to Scorchclaw, she mewed. "That's my mom with Flurryshine, but she's been really tired... Over there is my dad, and that's Wasppaw." With a final motion towards the apprentice that had carried her all that way, she peered back up at Magpiepaw. "And now you! That's all I know..."