...And Dream of Rolling Thunder {closed}

Barleytuft's kits, Raventail's warrior ceremony. WindClan kept padding on. Finchstar was rocked to sleep by the white noise of camp, drifting off to the sounds of hushed whispers, breezy grasses, and the wide, vast sky. Slumber had become easier after his escapade all those sunrises ago. There were no more nightmares, only a comforting silence. Silence was easy to fill, and oftentimes the leader would yawn and imagine Brookclover by his side as he curled up for sleep. No dreams had come to the tom for quite some time. It was almost strange then, when he found himself conscious in a starry field, not knowing whether to be shocked or relieved. His first thought was to look for Brookclover's russet pelt, but felt a lump of disappointment sink in his chest as she was no where to be spotted. It was soon replaced by curiosity, however, with the thought of a new place. StarClan had grown to be both yearned for and hated by Finchstar. He yearned to join his mate in their masses, and yet despised them for taking her away from him. But the scenery around him was enough to spark the adventurer inside the tom.

A large oak stood above the silvery undergrowth, its leaves shimmering in the blue moonlight. A soft rain began to fall, pattering over the leaves and dripping to the ground, rolling off of Finchstar's pelt. He blinked his yellow eyes against the mist, head tilted toward the sky. This was nothing like WindClan territory, and in fact the tom felt almost trapped beneath the bracken and ferns that surrounded his frame. It was perfect, and yet different. Intrigued, Finchstar began following a slim trail through the foliage, twisting between the stalks, and closing his eyes in bliss as the rain drifted from his fur. It was a safe feeling, here in the starry forest, one he had never felt in WindClan. Not that Finchstar strived for that kind of feeling, rather he liked the way sleeping on the open moor was like a game, a risk. But here, beneath layers of plants and roots, it was ever so interesting. A crack of thunder, and a flash of lightning, the momentary glow illuminating a wide clearing, stretching out before him. The scenery looked familiar, and yet Finchstar knew he had never once stepped foot in this place. Rather, he had heard about it at gatherings, and the sandy hollow seemed to fit the description. ThunderClan camp. The orange and white tabby smiled, feeling alive. The mystery as to why StarClan had possibly brought him here set his fur on end in a wonderful way. Grinning, Finchstar pushed through the bushes, a starry glitter clinging to his pelt as he emerged in the camp. Another thunderclap, and the rain fell down heavy, splashing into puddles of liquid silver. Beautiful. Finchstar walked slowly by each of the dens, not minding the water in his fur. Yellow eyes peered into each one, wondering what kind of cats could sleep in dens such as these. ThunderClan, the cats that walked beneath the forest, as silent as a mouse and as loud as the sky. The leader wanted to scold himself for not grasping a curiosity of them until now. He had been so focused on the lives that resided on the moor, and now as he watched the foliage drift around him, that changed. He wished to know both. To intertwine them like stalks of heather. And he wondered if fate would allow it. Finchstar wished for peace, and if he needed to carry on as a leader, then he would bring it to the forest. Perhaps it started here, with the storm-born cats of thunder.

Grinning, the tom turned toward what must be the Highrock, yellow eyes widening ever so slightly as he saw what sat there. Ashstar. Finchstar opened his mouth to speak, but remembered his past actions. There had been a time, just a few sunrises ago, where he had wished to run as far from WindClan as his paws would take him, and perhaps StarClan had watched him. Fighting the hesitation, the leader shook the thought away. They had judged him before, and they could judge him again. His soul was only governed by his wildhearted morals, and his lifeblood, Brookclover. Two forces, careening towards the sun as they flew Finchstar through life. "Ashstar." He addressed the tall gray she-cat, dipping his head. The confidence came shooting back into his heart. "StarClan has proven themselves to be strange, but why take me to ThunderClan? Is there a mouse prophecy now? Or perhaps a tree has fallen, and you're here to ask me if I heard it." The leader's eyes twinkled, but behind the shimmer was a questioning glance. Fate was a fickle thing, but he would not allow himself to fear it.

Though it wasn't as beautiful and familiar as home, Ashstar felt comfortable in ThunderClan territory. In the last few moons of her life, especially, she'd visited the tree-enclosed space enough and loved the cats in their camp enough that it felt almost like a second home to her. So, she was completely at ease on the Highrock, slightly wider and shorter than the Tallrock though it was. The WindClan leader looked as she had midway through her life- tall and majestic, covered in thick gray fur with an especially fluffy tail and friendly spring-green eyes. The only differences were that no age showed in white hairs at her muzzle, and that her pelt was studded with stars. She gazed down as the young new leader, Finchstar, entered the camp, her eyes watching him shrewdly as he made his way smiling around the dens. Despite his lack of age and experience, the tom had been a wonderful leader so far, and she knew that he would make many good decisions in the moons to come. He had already begun to repair the rift torn between his Clan and RiverClan that had been formed so many years ago when she had been a young (well, younger), family-oriented leader who made a foolish mistake. Hopefully, he would avoid many of the mistakes she had made... And she was here to help him find a friend that would guide him well in the future.

The tom's youthful and almost kit-like nature as he walked belied the sorrows he had recently experienced. Unfortunately, Ashstar knew all too well the pain through which he'd gone. Through viewing his life, and remembering her own. Only a moon after she'd officially become leader, her mate and best friend- maimed by dogs and reduced to elders- had passed away of their injuries combined with age, leaving her in a state of depression so thorough that she had died of it. Similarly, Finchstar had died- both physically and emotionally. The main difference between their experiences was that Icestorm and Lightfoot had been old and lived good lives, while Finchstar and his mate were not only barely young warriors, but had not even had a litter of surviving kits or gotten to grow further together before their lives were torn apart. It was horrible, like the death of her apprenticed son or the maimings by Rockthorn, but some things just had to be so that other cats could grow. Hopefully, the insight she inspired would offer some small means of comfort to the poor tom. StarClan knew she'd needed it gravely when the same had befallen her.

After what seemed like days, the orange and white tom reached where she sat atop the Highrock, looking both surprised and afraid for a few moments. Then he stilled his runaway emotions, dipped his head in respect, and offered a sincere question disguised through humorous quips. Ashstar smiled, seeing right through his facade, and her green eyes sparkled like the stars behind them. She wished that she could outright say what she wanted, but there were rules for this sort of thing. And unlike Ivystar, she listened to them. "You've done well so far, Finchstar," she began, a warm-hearted purr underlying the commanding voice she had. She was easily audible from where the tom sat, but the sound resonated throughout the clearing for good measure. "Few leaders deal with as many hardships in as many moon during the beginning of their leadership as you have, and I speak for all of StarClan when I say that we are proud of how well you have handled it." Her voice grew a little bit more quiet and personal, her eyes reaching Finchstar's. "My heart breaks for you and Brookclover, but rest easy knowing that you will be together again, and that she watches and loves you from the stars. Many more moons of happiness await you and all of WindClan so long as you follow the code."

The leader leapt down from the tall rock formation, walking closer to Finchstar. "However. There is something that I am here to tell you... so listen closely." Her gaze was intense as she looked at him. "Sometimes, your Clan is only as good as its allies. And, it is important to pick allies that will strengthen you, as well as let you strengthen them. Moons and moons ago, before most of WindClan was born, Blizzardstar and I struck a mutual agreement that led to a friendship and allying of our Clans. You have many options before you, as a young new leader, but the most important thing to remember about picking an ally is that it's not just you and the other leader- it's your entire Clan. And you should do whatever is possible to make sure that your Clanmates and your allied Clanmates have bonds of friendship as strong as your own. You understand?" Ashstar's eyes were searching, scanning Finchstar for any sign of what she had implied. Hopefully, the words she had chosen would get the concept she and Blizzardstar had planned into his brain.

Finchstar watched Ashstar's green eyes with a critical amount of focus. It wasn't often he received dreams such as these, in fact, this had been his first. The fact that such a thing was his gateway to Brookclover further drove him to pursue the task, but instead of finding lost love, he had stumbled across a change. WindClan's fallen leader, before even Brindlestar. As intriguing as she was, tall and graceful, a portal to his history, Finchstar hung instead on every word that fell from her maw. Sure, ThunderClan and WindClan had continued their alliance, and the orange and white tabby found he respected Leopardstar in his efforts, but was Ashstar perhaps asking that they take it further?

The cheeky glint in her eye reminded Finchstar he wasn't the only one who possessed such cutthroat wits. If he were to shoot the former leader a sarcastic comment, questioning her reasoning, then Finchstar knew he'd be shot one right back. A smile grew on his maw then, knowing he was in the company of a friend. Someone who could play the game just as well. He admired Ashstar, it was no secret. "I hope you aren't saying we merge clans Ashstar, I do find that squirrels tend to conflict with my stomach. I'm much more suited to rabbits." But Finchstar wasn't completely daft, he knew of what Ashstar spoke. "All humor aside, you want WindClan to strengthen ties with ThunderClan… yes?"

Thoughts swam in Finchstar's mind as he thought of how much further they could go. Alliances were one thing, and as far as the young tom knew, had been the only form of declaring friendship between clans. But change had never scared Finchstar, and it wouldn't start doing so today. "Perhaps we could visit each other more often... or maybe share hunting and training times?" Ashstar's green eyes bore through his fur, and Finchstar meant them, feeling almost confused. What could possibly seal their bond even farther. The moor. The forest. The fast, and the strong. Rabbits. Squirrels. They were so different, and yet this plan of furthering the alliance coincided with Finchstar's want for peace in such a large way, it was almost unlike coincidence.

Conversation was a way of understanding another. Seeing their lives, watching as they lived. Finchstar liked to watch the kits in camp play. He liked to talk with his clanmates, feel their wants, their fears. And how better to understand ThunderClan, than to infiltrate their walls, in the most well-intentioned way possible? "A cat!" Finchstar started, obviously excited as he cracked Ashstar's code. "We send some warriors to ThunderClan… to learn their ways. And perhaps ThunderClan will send some of their own here as well. Like a negotiator of sorts. A counselor. An ambassador." A wide grin stretched across the leader's maw as he finally came to a realization of StarClans wishes. If it would bring a little more peace to the forest, then Finchstar was all for it.