blood // water, pt. II [OPEN; SHADOWCLAN POST]

It seemed like every moment, from the smallest catch, to the grandest warrior victory, had simply been a minute step in the very direction that his paws now lead him. The sky, even in its transition from night to day, was gray and dim. Burntstag would have felt as comfortable in the light as he did the cover of shadows. But with the stars tucked away behind the clouded sky, the calico tom felt even more confident in his mission. Starclan couldn't even face him in the moment their precious code was about to be defied. His head seemed to raise just the slightest, even bolder than the usual confidence that naturally enraptured him. In a similar fashion, his movements boasted their usual grace and his feathery tail swayed eagerly behind him. How he had decided upon this particular even escaped even his own understanding. Burntstag was not a tom to believe in such trivial things as fate but there was a certain acknowledgment that had to be given to one's instincts. It had lead him to Flintfang and guided his steps so far. Intellection and intuition were a deadly combination. He was grateful for the ability to tame them both.

The first stop culminated in a trip near the carrionplace. Scorchstar had forbidden one's pawsteps near this place. It was the first law he would be violating tonight. Among the wreckage, in a small enclosure of debris, was another cat. Flintfang. Watching the tom leave behind his young kit had been heart-wrenching but the former Thunderclan's presence and part in this was crucial. Mosspaw had to understand that this was for the good of all cats, including the father she'd created and her own life. With a nod, he greeted the grey-pelted tom before turning back in the direction of the camp he'd come from. Slipping out after the final patrol had been easy, especially under the guise of returning to gather additional prey. Burntstag did not take pride in falsities but he was certain there would be forgiveness from the cats he had wronged. And he would be the first cat to proclaim his sins to the sky as he denounced the warrior's promise he'd made all those moons ago. Something about the thought was comforting, and even invigorating. His pace quickened and he only glanced back once to make sure Flintfang was still in tow. Unsurprisingly, his companion was at his side. How trite was it to consider the moment would be otherwise.

As they neared the entrance he remembered not long before where he and Silentpaw had helped to dig up the leader from underneath a fallen tree. His breath caught in his throat and for a moment he stop, soaking in the moment underneath the thin veil of light. Cool, green eyes drank in the scene, the rebuilt entrance, and the sodden marshlands. Breathing was shallow, collected, and decisive. After a moment of stillness, he simply nodded. And then he was headed into the camp. Silky strands of his long coat were caught but for once the urge to groom his pelt was little more than a fleeting thought. The clearing was noticeably empty as nearly every cat had curled into their mossy beds for a restful slumber after the hard day's labor. It appeared the fresh kill pile was fairly stocked and things seemed in order. Save for a singular silhouette that waited near a corner of camp. Asterspark. Who better to help their leader see reason than his own son, who had agreed in the sense to be found in Burntstag's words? He greeted the fellow Shadowclan cat with a dip of his head. Flintfang's presence had already been foretold and there was no introduction to be had. There was a far greater duty tonight, one that extended beyond formalities.

With the three of them gathered, he set his paws on course for the leader's den. Although the proper customer was to hesitate, Burntstag merely called out the tom's name before padding in with the others behind him. His sharp, green gaze met the elder Shadowclanner's as he meowed lowly, "Scorchstar. This is Flintfang, a friend of mine, formerly of Thunderclan. And I'm sure you're well acquainted with your own son. There are urgent matters we need to discuss with you, one's that cannot wait until morning."

The Carrionplace, as interesting and new as it seemed, did nothing to stop the storm swirling in Flintfang's mind. The smell was the first thing he noted that fateful night, leaving Mosspaw alone in the clan he despised. Mounds of twoleg trash sat in heaps inside walls of silvery-vines. Strange, and the gray tabby felt it. He had freed himself from ThunderClan, a task he had subconsciously set his mind to ever since Chervilpaw drew her last breath in that clearing. But the freedom hadn't been fully executed, no. There was more. Flintfang knew, because his mind still swirled as chaotic as ever. And he had promised himself from the beginning, that there would be silence. He prayed that life would allow him that one, small courtesy, given all they had taken from him so far. No, Flintfang had never been one to hope, and when he did he blamed it on the storm he had unwillingly harnessed in his head. But was it so wrong, to believe that the very thing he had hoped for all this life could be obtained?

Mosspaw had thrown him back into that tornado, bringing with her a small mouse and dropping it at his feet. And even as the warrior left her, abandoned her in that dark tunnel, she still played with his heart strings like they were strands of windblown bedding. He had hid his tears in the tunnel, from his daughter, from the cat who had taken wounds for him. And now Flintfang had been the one to wound her. The skull of the prey Mosspaw had brought him still sat at his paws, and he rolled it over the carrionplace's moist dirt, watching as the remaining tissue glimmered in the light. It was a strange symbol to cling too, but it reminded Flintfang of the love he had waiting for him. And it was quite possible he had trampled it into the leaf mulch as he left Mosspaw alone. But all one could do was hope. It went against all his philosophies and all the things life had taught him, but perhaps this hope, this desperate, straining hope would persevere. No, he didn't deserve it, and no, it wasn't normal, or predictable, but nothing in life was anymore.

Burntstag's frame, as expected as it was, made Flintfang's green eyes widen ever so slightly. He was the first cat to teach him to rebel against normality, and the very body that held his soul testified to that. The cloudy sky left his stunning pelt muted, but the oranges and blacks and whites swam together as Flintfang's headspace did. Excitement pricked at the former Thunderclanner's paws as he followed his companion out of those twoleg-crafted silvery-wire walls. The anticipation for the future ate at his mind and seemed to still the storm, even if just for a second. They would change the forest, uncover all the secrets hidden away for so long, and at the end; whenever that was, Flintfang would gather up all the love he had thrown out, and there would be peace. ShadowClan camp was much different then the one of his former clan, but it didn't seem to shock the gray tabby. So many changes had taken place in such a short time, that he accepted them all as normally as he would a mouse. Brambles croweded between pine trees, and dozens of glowing eyes peaked from under the cover of dens. Flintfang's green gaze meant them with a defiance, and he no longer feared the result of his boldness. Freedom resided here, and with it peace. He wondered if Littlesun was in camp, or if she was out on patrol. While the thoughts of the she-cat had subsided for the time being, they never waned in strength, and remembering their meeting last moon, Flintfang could confirm he wasn't the only one.

Burntstag's confidence radiated from his fur and distilled in Flintfang, another cat joined them in camp, and the gray tabby recognized him as Asterspark, the leader's son. A jolt of hope ran through his blood then, that even the kin of ShadowClan's king could support a cause such as this one. Hope was a dangerous thing, but Flintfang clung to it, saying he'd cast it away after they had succeeded in their quest of change. Strolling into Scorchstar's den, the three toms stood in the opening, their shadows casting over the dark tabby leader, only his amber eyes breaking the dark stripes. Flintfang stayed quiet as Burntstag introduced him, and the jolt of lightning that had shook him before remained in his fur, rejuvenating his bones, casting excitement into his blood. It was time.

Asterspark wordlessly padded after Burntstag and his new ThunderClan ally Flintfang towards his father’s den. He had to admit, he was a little nervous to see how Scorchstar would react to another Clan cat within his territory — but more so the strong stench of Carrionplace that still clung to the two toms’ pelts. He wouldn’t be happy about that, but hopefully the ideas that Burntstag had in store for the future of ShadowClan would help him instantly forget about it.

He just knew Burntstag’s ideas would make ShadowClan better off. The warrior code had done nothing to the cats who followed it but caused them misery, ironically enough. He was sure many of his other Clanmates wouldn’t agree with his ideals — especially Poppyheart ... stars, would this drive a wedge between the two of them again?... — but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the benefit of the Clan. This was one of those times.

---

Scorchstar heard Burntstag’s call from outside the den, but was surprised to find him padding inside without his permission. Whatever was on his mind must be very important. He also spotted two other toms with him, the first being a tom that smelled of ThunderClan and the other being his own son Asterspark. He also detected an all-too-familiar scent of Carrionplace, and he was more than certain it was found on not only Flintfang’s pelt, but Burntstag’s as well. He had prohibited any cat from going anywhere near Carrionplace two seasons ago after the tragic explosion that had cost him a loyal warrior, and he hadn’t yet reversed the new law. Why had a cat like Burntstag broken that rule?

Sitting up, recognizing the severity in his former apprentice’s eyes and the way he spoke to him, Scorchstar slightly narrowed his eyes. This felt very strange, nothing like he was used to.

He couldn’t help but recall his very first offspring Shade and his malicious ways. And Burntstag had been raised with the merciless killer of a rogue nearby — perhaps even raised by him as well. Was there a chance Burntstag had recruited a ThunderClan cat and his own flesh and blood to try and dethrone him?...

No, of course not! At the very least, Asterspark would never do such a thing, especially when he knows how Poppyheart may react to it. The thought reassured him that there wasn’t anything incredibly dire or life-threatening going on within any of their minds. There was no need to be so defensive. ”Welcome, Burntstag, Asterspark ... and Flintfang, if memory serves? How can I help you three? What is so urgent that it couldn’t wait until dawn? ...And why do I detect the scent of Carrionplace, Burntstag?” he added, subtly glaring at the young warrior. He wasn’t about to let that little detail go unnoticed.

Amber smoldering deep in the depths of his eyes only seemed to brighten as he stood there, facing the leader. It was something out of his wildest fantasies. As Scorchstar spoke, the warrior did not attempt to interrupt. Nor did he tear his gaze away even at the hint of a glare hidden behind those amber eyes. He'd once looked up to Scorchstar and ingrained deep within the cavern of his chest were roots that knotted in some semblance of respect. Even if he believed that he already knew the outcome of this conversation, that did not mean he could forgo the natural order of things. He'd already broken the sacred code with his introductory lack of respect. But the Shadowclan leader needed to understand the severity of the circumstance and Burntstag was not willing to risk being turned away over a matter as trivial as sleep.

Although his claws were sheathed, the tom's paws felt as if they were leaving heavy imprints on the earth below. As if he drew his strength from the dirt floor of the den. Ignoring the question of the carrionplace, he flicked his ear in the direction of his companions and allowed their presence to stir up his speech, "Many moons ago, I met Flintfang as we battled side by side against an owl. After talking, he and I found a commonality in our thoughts. The division of the clans is little more than something spurred on by a seasons old code. A law that has divided cats for centuries, lead to wars, and left us following the word of long dead cats. So many things have happened. Lichenmask, who was sent by the ancestors themselves, and nearly tore the forest apart. A flood that they hardly spoke a word of or raised even a powerful starry claw to aid and which did rip up the roots of our home. You might think this all sounds like nonsense, Scorchstar, but there is a future I see that would protect all the cats we love and prevent them from the same fates that have befallen many."

Burntstag's tail had began to lash emphatically in wide, sweeping arcs that were a rather usual accompaniment to his speech. It felt invigorating to speak so freely of the thoughts that constantly tossed through his mind like the water that raged at the mouth of the gorge. To possess the burden of such a task was something that he was sure a lesser cat could not have handled. But Burntstag had something more than just physical strength, he held both intellection and drive in his paws. It seemed that his own self-belief had proven to be enough to sway others. Given the tom's past reputation, as had been outlined by Asterspark, he was certain that their leader would be unable to accept such a drastic change. He'd come far from the honor-breaking, young tom he had been when he sired Shade. And yet, there was a quite stubbornness that had wormed into his nature likely since birth. Something that would not be easily removed with the speech of one cat, no matter how truthful the sentiment was.

Now, he took a step forward, with his head still raised and an obvious boldness in his stance. Burntstag briefly glanced around the den, noting the emptiness of the role. That was something they shared, and understanding of the burden of leadership. But Burntstag was willing to be bold where Scorchstar was not. Often, the idea had kept him awake at night. How Scorchstar and his father were so vastly different but possessed many of the same traits and both were considered to be great leaders by the cats who followed him. It was a fear Burntstag swallowed for the sake of the mission, and he shoved it to the recesses of his mind in that moment. Later, he would dwell on something as meaningless as his own desires. This was the time for his dreams to come to life, for Shadowclan to be shaken of the outdated grip that choked it at the throat.

"The time has come to abandon the warrior code and turn our backs on Starclan... and to forge our own destiny as one forest. Every second wasted allows another cat to fall victim to the same pointless deaths and trivial hopes as many cats before them. Will you be the one to lead us into the future?"

The hesitation in Scorchstar's voice as he spoke Flintfang's name seemed to distill itself in his heart. The former ThunderClan warrior meant the dark tabby's eyes with a fearless defiance, unapologetic in its ways, and bold. He had come so far to stand in ShadowClan's camp now, to knock shoulders with like-minded cats, and if the leader were to dare tear that away for him, Flintfang would shove him off as a flat character with a dull mind, he would sit next to Leopardstar, in the hall of those unable to understand. But Burntstag understood, and his confident voice radiated through the den, Flintfang felt right, standing by his side, backing his every word. No amount of hesitation or prejudice from ShadowClan's king could deter their mission. And it felt good, it felt good to look that authority in the eye and speak of the wrongs they had turned a blind eye to. Flintfang found himself hiding a grin as Burntstag laid out before Scorchstar his terms. Abandon the warrior code. Abandon StarClan. And in return? No more pointless deaths, no more false hopes. The gray tabby's mind flashed to the image of his sister lying dead on the ground, heart having stopped from some unknown cause. While her shortness of life was not directly caused by the warrior code, Flintfang knew she had deserved better, and the society they lived in didn't allow such things. He thought of Mosspaw next, his adopted daughter, and knew that the code they lived by would tear at her heart as well. He narrowed his brow at the thought of her slaved to Leopardstar's law. Why did she need to bow before some leader just because she had a gift to heal? No. No. She deserved so much more, and Flintfang would bring it to her, to all the forest. With Burntstag leading the way.

"When you answer..." Flintfang started, surprised at himself for even speaking, his voice shattering the ominous silence that had settled after Burntstag had asked the life-altering question. "...think of the cats under your rule. Think of what kind of life they deserve. Show them you're not as selfish as the rest of the forest's authority. You have power here, to change society as we know it, to bring peace to this broken world we live in. Any sane cat would choose that. Now... What's your move, Scorchstar?" The fear that should have been present in Flintfang's heart for questioning a leader was nonexistent, and for a split-second his mind was clear. The storm ceased for the smallest of moments, just long enough to hear the words fall from Scorchstar's maw. Whatever they were, the tom knew he would keep fighting for the cause that was right. Burntstag was so driven towards it, and he was an easy cat to follow. Flintfang watched his expression from the corner of his eye as they held their breath. Here and now, they would either leave with an ally, or an enemy. Whatever was to happen, the forest would get the peace they deserved. Flintfang was too calloused to exert it from his very body. Mosspaw was good at that, being happy. And even in the midst of all this dirty scheming that had been hidden from them, there were those golden few. Those wonderful souls that radiated the same peace Flintfang was fighting for. He felt it from Mosspaw, yes. From Littlesun. But the life-shattering thing they would bring upon the world would be of much bigger scale. The thought of it drove Flintfang's paws, it electrocuted his heart, and excited his soul. Peace. Silence. And if Scorchstar couldn't agree to such a thing, they'd find it without him.

Scorchstar blinked in surprise and stared at Burntstag, his gaze shifting to Flintfang for a brief moment before switching between his former apprentice and Asterspark. He honestly didn't care too much about the ThunderClanner's opinion on the matter, as ThunderClan and ShadowClan had a relatively neutral relationship. What really mattered to him was his own warriors believing that this crazy idea was being considered as a beneficial one. Abandon StarClan and the warrior code? How could they possibly think he could ever do such a thing after everything he's been through? It had been StarClan who had forgiven him for his misdeeds and deemed him worthy of leadership -- he wouldn't be here with seven lives remaining without them.

Of course, he had always upheld due respect to each and every one of his Clanmates. They could believe in StarClan, or they could not believe. Just so long as they followed the warrior code and did all they could to be the best warrior ShadowClan needed them to be. He wasn't about to shove beliefs or destinies down anyone's throats. Just a few days ago, Mothpaw had approached him telling him she didn't believe it to be her destiny to become a warrior, and he didn't try to stop her. Every cat had a place in the Clan, and sometimes it took more than expectations from peers to shape one's destiny.

That being said, he was not a fan of other cats forcing beliefs or ideals upon other cats. Of course, some things were mandatory to practice and uphold, such as the warrior code. Plus, the warrior code kept the Clans safe and secure. It provides strength, courage, and loyalty, which are all very important attributes any cat would be proud to possess. To abandon the warrior code would be to abandon the ways of Clan life altogether.

Scorchstar opened his mouth, ready to respond -- but he was cut off when Flintfang decided to butt in with his own entitled opinion. Normally, in a situation such as this, he would have expected himself to just brush it off, but after being backed into a literal corner within his own den by three strong toms, feeling quite vulnerable in his own right, he couldn't help but take offense to what he had said to him. This tom didn't even know him, and yet he was accusing him of being selfish?

The massive tom was not a violent cat by nature, but he could certainly put up a front once his pride had been wounded, especially by cats outside of his Clan who had no real reason to be in a given situation.

Rising up to a stand, Scorchstar glared angrily at the ThunderClanner. He was sure he wouldn't be able to successfully intimidate the tom, but at the very least he could still make his displeasure to his words quite plain. "Frankly, I do not see why Burntstag and Asterspark have decided to bring along an outsider to discuss matters that belong within ShadowClan's borders. While you are in my camp, you will hold your tongue, lest you want to be driven out by force." Turning back to his former apprentice, his gaze softened, but not by too much. He was still irked at him and his son both for even suggesting abandoning the warrior code. "I understand you have had a different upbringing in your youth before you have joined the Clans, but you have still lived with them long enough to understand just how important the warrior code is to every Clan -- and StarClan by extension. They both give us strength and courage when we are weak. They have done too much for the Clans for us to just turn our backs on them in return. I'm sorry, Burntstag, Asterspark, but I must refuse your proposition. I have experienced life without the warriors of StarClan before your birth, Burntstag -- and you have lived through a portion of it as a kit and apprentice, Asterspark, so you must know where I'm coming from -- and it was not a very promising period of any cat's lives. ShadowClan will carry on in following StarClan's example and upholding the warrior code."

(OOC: Will edit Asterspark in later)

Every moment seemed to drag by, moving in slow motion as the words of Flintfang and Scorchstar drifted through his ears and tickled at the sensitive furs that rested there. His breath slowed and his senses seemed to sharpen. Burntstag closed his eyes to suck in the scents around them. Each cat was one he could easily pick out; he knew their names, pelt colors, personalities. And yet, he wanted to know them more, to find out their dreams and motives. They were who he was doing this for, so that the apprentices would be able to grow into their own instead of dying at the paws of another clan or even from submitting to the ever-changing will of the starry ancestors who possessed the power to changed the skies to scarlet but seldom sought out salvation for their followers below. Starclan did not live in the forest, they hardly walked among the clans or presented genuine wisdom, only the advice of fools. With another deep breath, his maw pointed in Scorchstar's direction once again. But this time, his head shook sadly.

"I can't say I'm surprised." He'd let the moment drag on, allowing his thoughts to gather and collect, the idea of the cats that rested within these camp walls stirring him onward in his speech. Burntstag opened his eyes. Their drawing green depths were swirling torrents, similar to the wreckage of the flood. Brown, gray and green seemed to churn, betraying the fire that burned deep within the fire of his very being. Without a doubt, the calico knew he was doing the right thing. Scorchstar could spew the words that many clans cats had for ages, defending this way of life. But he did not even pause for a minute to consider the ramifications it had for the cats under his rule. No, it was exactly at the warrior had feared, his leader was bound to the code that he had already broke in his youth, "Although it is rather amusing to see someone so familiar with breaking the code they swore their life to, fighting so diligently to uphold it."

He turned away after shooting the leader a curious look, but his voice was mild and lacked any sense of sarcasm or disdain, rather it matched his neutral expression, "I'm afraid this isn't a proposition to simply be shot down. I don't plan to fight with claws, Scorchstar, but I also refuse to let the cats I care for continue down a path of destruction. But, I also won't force them into a life they do not wish to live. If they hear me out, and they agree, your idea of Shadowclan will only survive for so long." On a pawful of occasions, the tom had considered the idea that perhaps no one would listen but Burntstag believed strongly in his cause and he knew it was the path his paws were set to follow. Flintfang had followed so diligently since their first meeting, and Asterspark saw since. Even Silentpaw, in her quiet-spoken brilliance, had understood the need for change. His mind was made up and nothing would stop his paws. Flicking both of his companions with his feathery tail, the warrior padded out of the mouth of the leader's den and into the center of Shadowclan's camp. Burntstag's head was high and his stance confidant but there was a certain humility to his stance, and in the decision to abandon the normal speaking place of the leader. While he had been known for strength in his natural ability, this was not about him but about the cats he sought to serve.

"Shadowclan! Please gather for a meeting in the center of camp!"

It took a moment. Cats had been resting within the confines of their nests, unaware of the commotion in Scorchstar's dwelling place. Burntstag waited patiently, without a doubt knowing that the other cats had followed behind. Apprentices and warriors emerged from their dens. Queens and kits peered curiously over the edge of their nests. A warm smile flitted across his maw as he looked over them before it was replaced with his stoic, neutral expression. He loved them each genuinely, individually. However, now it was time to show them the path he hoped to lead them on instead of simply standing there with a smile. Now, was time for change, "Shadowclan... you know me as your kin, as your clanmate, and as your friend. I come before you now with a petition for change. For so many moons the clan has followed the code underneath Starclan. And it has done little more lead us to endless wars, cats like Lichenmask being sent to the forest, and many lost lives. I've always hoped that in some way I would be able make up for the destruction my father caused and be able to serve all the incredible cats of this forest. And I know what I must do." His face scanned over the crowds, reading their curious expressions. This was very out of the ordinary, for sure, but to delay any longer would be  to open up the clan for more opportunities to fall under the claws of Starclan.

"It is my belief that we must abandon the ways of Starclan and of the code and decide our own destiny for the best of every cat in the forest. This is no something exclusively for the cats of Shadowclan, but change starts here. We can save the lives of many cats and live simply to care for each other and bring about a better world. I know, it seems like a lot, but there is no better course to set our paws on. After so many seasons, it is time for the warrior code to die. It is rotten and festering, broken by all the cats who have sworn to it. Even... our own leader. Scorchstar, father of Shade, mate of a Riverclan cat and several other she-cats." Burntstag paused. It would likely be a shocking revelation for some cats to hear of the atrocities committed by the great Scorchstar. He bowed his head slightly, shaking it once more in disappointment, "I asked him to lead us into this new world for the sake of you all and for our clan, he has refused. I ask that you join me in bringing about this change and forging a new path for ourselves. No cat will be forced to join us in this endeavor, we are embarking on something that has never been done before. But I promise you, that if you seek to aid this cause, I will fight until my last breath to ensure every cat is allowed to live life alongside their kin and peace and security is found."

When he finished speaking, he looked around once more, meeting each cat's eye individually with a slight twist of his head. All of them had lost someone over the moons. Each one. Many faces were noticeably missing among the crowd. Several had died in the flood, and many before. And some under the paws of his father. Brushgaze, who shared the blood of the clan, had served under him and lead to the death of Shadowclan cats. Lives lost over futile causes. No more would cats die under the watchful eye of Starclan. They would create their own future. He knew. Flintfang saw it. Asterspark knew. And they would know too. All they were waiting on was confirmation. And then it would be time.

Stagclan would rise from the shadows.

Flintfang hated to say he was ready Scorchstar's decision, but he had learned never to expect things from the corrupt authority of the forest. When the dark tabby rose up and stood tall before ThunderClan's outsider, Flintfang couldn't even bring himself to flinch. In this very den, Burntstag, himself, and Asterspark had transcended the fear and the rot of the warrior code. Scorchstar no longer deserved the respect of a leader, as he no longer acted like one. Flintfang blinked but it spoke a thousand words, a testament to his unaffected state. The trials of this life could torment him no longer. He would follow Burntstag as he brought upon a new world, and there would be peace. Blood roared in his ears as they padded from the den, leaving Scorchstar to sit in his corrupt filth. He was no better then Leopardstar, and the gray tabby had been right to spare him the benefit of the doubt.

The calico's call rang out through the camp, a blatant defiance of the law. Flintfang loved it. The three stood out starkly against normality, their pelts shining in the hazy light. Cats began to gather, circling them with questioning eyes, and Flintfang meant each and every one of them. A few moments ago, they had despised him as a traitor to his clan. But now, he would be at the forefront of a utopia, following by Burntstag's shoulder as he brought StarClan crashing down to earth. Those entitled glitter cats couldn't hide from the forest's turmoil any loner, and they would punish them by removing all faith the forest had. Instead, they would believe in each other, free from the confines of the code. Free from pointless battles. Free from the corrupt authority. More secrets were exposed as Burntstag dragged Scorchstar's name through the dirt. But he did it with honor, holding his head high, and in that very moment, Flintfang saw a savior. Even through the haze, the stunning calico stood tall, a martyr to the code's flaws, and on him they hung their desires.

It was then that Flintfang did something strange. Padding to Burntstag's side, he rested his tail across his shoulders and dipped his head with the slightest bit of solemnity. "Wherever you go, I will follow. Bring us peace, Burntstag, and I will owe you my soul." Stepping back, the roaring in Flintfang's ears grew louder. Dozens of eyes, dozens of faces. All these cats with lives of their own, and while the gray tabby could never bring himself to love them; he could settle for the second best. He would save them. The roaring grew deafeningly loud, crashing down like a storm and Flintfang gazed up at the sky, his green eyes piercing through the haze and into oblivion. It was the sound of a utopia. The sound of peace. At it wasn't silent at all. It was loud. Like a crack of thunder.

Cinderface stepped out from the shadows and took her spot at the front. There was something haunting about the night, an eerie and cloudy existence that fell over the stars. There was no light, just Burntstag's voice booming across the clearing. His words punched the crowd in their guts, taking air from their lungs with each word. An attack against the code. An attack against StarClan. It was said that if the code was followed by every cat in ever clan, no harm should come to them. How could that be? The eleventh law clearly stated to challenge trespassers, after all. Cinderface's ears twitched when Scorchstar's betrayal was declared, and she did not conceal her shock any further. Her stonelike resolve melted into horror and anger. She stood up, her eyes shifting to Burntstag. The look in his eyes was hungry, violent, strong, like he was willing and able to die for his words.

A messiah. She felt his constitution, and it enticed her. He was right, and they all knew it. The Warrior Code was full of hypocrisies and caused death, indeed. Why should the whole of the clan matter more than an individual, like her? All the questions she had always had about this ridiculous set of laws can flooding back to her. Perhaps they didn't need to be answered. Perhaps the code was just wrong. Cinderface was good at holding her tongue, putting on a kindly, soft, naive face for her clanmates. Lying low, in the shadows, biding her time. Getting what she wanted in little ways. This was huge, and she knew Burntstag could get her what she wanted: true freedom from the laws that plagued the forest. Laws that kept her paws dirty. She wanted more than that. If ShadowClan were to be the first to go against the grain and deny StarClan... why, they'd be visionaries. Three mighty toms with hunger in their eyes against one desperate leader. They were going to win. Some cats feared that kind of power. Cinderface did not. Somebody had to be the first to speak out for them. They'd all follow like sheep.

"Scorchstar!" she called out, "Does the code not say that honorable cats may kill cats who are outside the code? Should we kill every warrior who wasn't silent enough during their vigil? Should we destroy deputies chosen just a little after moonhigh?" Her eyes widened, full of tears. It was a convincingly pitiful sight to all those who stood around her. The calico seemed as though one had driven a stick through her chest. "Should Burntstag do the 'honorable thing'... kill you?"

She shook her head and lowered her voice, speaking directly to the three innovators. "No more death. Asterspark, Burntstag, Flintfang, I stand with you." Turning, she addressed the crowd, saying, "Everyone, look at these cats! They're fixing what's been broken!"

At the sound of an unfamiliar beckon, silver ears swivelled curiously toward the voice's origin. Hazy stars, blocked by the wisps of clouds scattered across the sky, lit the eerie scene. Dawn was undeniably here, but it seemed the night, and its horrors, weren't yet done gasping their final breaths. A deep breath, taking in the calm before something, something strange, was bound to happen. Half a heart-beat later, and his stark green eyes found their mark on Burntstag. His long wisps of fur were somehow illuminated by the light of the dying moon and stars. The tom, who was certainly not Scorchstar or Wildstrike - of that Wolftuft was acutely aware-, stood proudly in the center of camp. Though Burntstag was incredibly confident, and unwavering so, when he called to the clan, Wolftuft could not stop the look of puzzled curiosity as it crossed his face, even if it lingered for a mere heart-beat.

He rose to his paws, certain that Burntstag, ever proud Burntstag, would come to explain he was doing. He traveled closer to the commotion, but was sure to stay further away from the tom himself in the case the danger rose beyond his comfort. Soon, his clanmates began to emerge from their dens, flocking to the call like moths to a flame. The warrior tried to read the passerby's expressions, but whatever secrets they may have held regarding the meeting would, for now, remain secret. Cinderface was soon brushing past him, eager as always to have a good view of the coming action before it unfolded. Wolftuft? He was content to watch and listen from afar, to learn before he stuck his nose where it might not belong.

The warm smile Burntstag offered only heightened the flames of anticipation within Wolftuft. Something new was rising, like a new sapling from the ashes of a forest fire, something new was to be born. And in those heart-beats of realisation, Burntstag began to speak. He had a deep voice, a voice that was easily capable of capturing the attention of a clan. "Shadowclan... you know me as your kin, as your clanmate, and as your friend.. the speech began simply, but Wolftuft was certain that Burntstag was no simple man. This had an unfamiliar undertone that no other clan meeting prior to it had obtained. This was fuelled by passion.

Wolftuft truly became engrossed in the meeting at the mention of Starclan. His ears perked forward and his eyes glowed with understanding as Burntstag continued. His words flowed, a symphony to the warrior, where before they had been full of desperate grasps for reasoning. And despite his previous attempts to withdraw from such potential chaos, Wolftuft shifted closer. Starclan, though it was true the idea of it had given so many hope, was finally finally going to burn and be exposed as the fraud it was. All those moons of being alone in his beliefs, of sheltering him from the toxic belief of the stars, thy had come to an end. It was the time of enlightenment for Shadowclan. A time of rebirth.

He began to give in to his wilder side. The side that he too often ignored or dismissed as immature or unimportant. This was of utmost importance now.

Wolftuft glanced to Cinderface, the she-cat was ever bold in this new revolution, as she spoke out against her own injustices. She was extreme in her measures and words, words that she would sorely regret should Burntstag fail, but the effect of her bravery already rubbed off on the unsteady Wolftuft. She spoke of no more killing, yet cited the need and ability to destroy Scorchstar himself. Honorable as she said it. Her duty. No, he was against this. A good warrior would not be for such potential loss.

But at the hands of Scorchstar, they had already lost so much. They had suffered. And Wolftuft? Though his mind demanded he stick to loyalty, it was his heart that drove him forward and shoved him through the crowd. It was his heart that told him this was right, that they could do no evil akin to the evil Starclan and the twisted code had wrought on them. No more death. The promise spoke louder than a thousand excuses. "Shadowclan, we have faced so much death and suffered at the paws of those who thought they were doing right. They commanded our loyalty to the code, these hypocrites lied to us." he paused as adrenaline began its course through him. "When life goes wrong, we are told life is not fair. Well, I’m following Burntstag on this. Let’s make it fair. Together. As a family, not divided by rules created in a belief of falsehood." at that, he looked to Burntstag. A nod. "I’m with you, Burntstag. I’m with you on the promise of peace."

Sunstrike peered up from her nest, ears pricked at the sudden summons from Burntstag. It was certainly dark... As if the stars themselves were hiding their faces, a fact that she found grimly amusing, if not laughable, as she listened to Burntstag's words. She blinked, tail tip flicking in barely vieled anger at the announcement of Scorchstar's own failures of following the code. Her gaze turned to stare coldly at the leader she had respected for moons, but no respect remained. "So, Scorchstar. The truth is revealed. Wasn't it just a few Gatherings ago where your supposed ally was called before the entire forest and condemned for have a relationship within in own clan, and you said nothing, hiding your own shame from even those who depend on you?" She spat, her voice quiet as always but holding a ferocity not often seen by the she-cat. "You cowardly foxheart. The warrior code has never been a love of mine, but I followed it out of respect for you. And you didn't respect us enough to be honest? How dare you. And now you expect us to simply continue doing so, despite the truth that Burntstag brings?"

Her tail lashed in a wide arc as she narrowed her eyes at the tom that stood before her. Cinderface is right. Perhaps we should follow the code in this instance, and drive you out." Her head tilted ever so slightly as she stepped forward to stand before Burntstag, turning her back to the leader without a backwards glance. She met his eyes, staring into them for a pawful of heartbeats, searching their depths for any uncertainty. Her own were determined, no fear or hesitation flickering in the background. When she discovered none in the brilliant calico, she nodded, lowering her head to him. "You have my support, Burntstag. I will walk this path with you, and all the others as well." She looked over to Flintfang, pausing for a moment. "Welcome, friend." She moved to stand next to Flintfang, facing the rest of the clan in a quiet, strong silence. She refused to look at Scorchstar, he wasn't worthy of her attention anymore.

All the commotion going on at the Jaggedrock peaked Poppyheart’s interest. When he approached the meeting place with many of his other Clanmates, he stared up at Burntstag, wondering why he was addressing the Clan instead of Scorchstar or Wildstrike. And ... why was Scorchstar standing at the mouth of his den looking so ... scared and ashamed?

And then it hit him the more his Clanmates spoke, shooting jab after jab at his father. He certainly didn’t like this, not one bit. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped out from the crowd to confront the cats speaking out against Scorchstar. ”I don’t understand why you’re all saying such nasty things about Scorchstar! He has done so much for our Clan, more than any of you would care to acknowledge, it seems. Sure, he didn’t make the smartest decisions in the past, but he still sacrificed so much for his Clan! He used to starve himself during leaf-bare so kits and apprentices could eat. He ate disease-ridden rats so we all could eat fresh-kill, and he lost a life in doing so. He risked his second life for a kit after returning home from the flood. He’s not perfect, but neither are any of us here!”

His angry gaze shifted to an all-too-familiar cat, one he hadn’t noticed until just now. His eyes widened and he audibly gasped, taking a step back. ”A-Asterspark? What are.... What are you doing out here? You can’t possibly agree with these cats!...” It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t! His own brother, his best friend ... was wishing for the disconnection from StarClan and the warrior code?

---

Asterspark couldn’t help but admit that it hurt him quite a bit to hear cats show so much disrespect to his father. In fact ... he was starting to regret following Burntstag’s ideals a little, if only because of this. But he knew he needed to remain strong. After all, he still agreed with his friend that StarClan and the warrior code were causing more harm than good to the Clans.

Hearing his brother and best friend speak out against his allies hurt his heart even more, but he could’ve sworn he had felt it crack when his disbelieving gaze shifted to him. He knew he would have to stand against his own littermate, and he knew it was going to be hard, but he didn’t expect it to be nearly impossible with that desperate look in his amber eyes. ”Poppyheart.... I... Y-You need to understand, we’re thinkin’ about somethin’ that’s bigger than all of us. We’re thinkin’ about the entire future of ShadowClan. Remember when Coldgaze attacked ya at Fourtrees, and ya ended up bein’ kidnapped by Twolegs? Or what about our half-sister Ravenmist, who had been needlessly attacked and blinded? The warrior code held us back from protectin’ ourselves to our fullest potential, and you both had paid the price. So many attacks, maulings, and deaths are caused by the many flaws of the warrior code, and StarClan doesn’t do anything to deliver the karmic retribution that needs to be dealt! Without our warrior ancestors or the warrior code to hold us back, we’ll be able to show the forest the true strength of ShadowClan.”

Salmonpaw, ever the weird one out, could not sleep. But of course, he was drawn to the societal standards of staying in your nest during the night, as was taught of him. However, as soon as the ruckus happened the too-big-for-his-brain cat tumbled out of the apprentice den. But as Burntstag spoke, a decent warrior before this he supposed, confusion settled in. What was wrong with the code? And who was Lichenfang again? Then, more and more cats stood forward to support him. The tension was tight in the air, and he didn't like the tone his clanmates were taking to him, to Scorchstar, to each other. Finally, the apprentice couldn't take it anymore. Bursting through the crowd, Salmpnpaw raced to stand in the clearing. Awkwardly, he squared his shoulders. "Hey guys!" he called out, nervous at first. But this is the only way he knew how to fix it all. Everyone would laugh, they would go back to sleep, and this  would all be over. "I've heard of scorching remarks, but this is getting a little ridiculous!" Salmonpaw laughed to himself, before continuing without letting anyone speak. "Why is it so hard for the leopard to hide? Because he's always being spotted!" He laughed again, but the eyes stared blankly back at him. So he would try again. "Why did the WindClan warrior run from the tree? Because he was scared of the bark!" Would this work? StarClan, Salmonpaw hoped so.

ooc: how to long post???? serious?1?1 Thanks grizz

So many voices. They chimed up from both sides, staing claims, showing support, and disdain for Scorchstar. He wasn't here trying to dethrone the leader. No, this was much bigger than that. For a short while he said nothing, allowing the clan to tear itself apart in the face of change. Burntstag allowed his head to bow as he let the words filter through his ears. Each work invigorated him. It seemed almost impossible to stand still with such energy raging through his body. Even so, the moment was not quite right. This wasn't meant to be an argument. No cat would be forced into this life. Everything was meant to benefit them, to save them. Digging his claws into the earth, several slow and drawn breaths escaped the calico warrior's lungs. His normally pristine fur was wild in several patches due to the haste and it being risen with such wild passion coursing through him. Brother had already turned on brother, kin against clan and code. The world was not meant to work like this, to breed such unnecessary strife. From this he drew strength, the knowledge he was here to correct it.

"This banter will get us nowhere. Shadowclan's leader is one who has sacrifices his lives and le as d this clan well in the past. And yet, Scorchstar has also  broken his own sworn code, a deed I myself find deplorable. But we are not here to question his leadership. This is a grander task, one beyond his paws and on a path he has chosen no to accept. Now, that is the one mistake we must fix our eyes on. For it harms the clan." Burntstag's voice rang out once more, but less demanding than his earlier speech and rather conversational. One wouldn't have thought he was enticing a revolution. His head rose once more to cast another glance over the cats, and shooting an almost apologetic look towards Asterspark. The tom was to truly be commended for his bravery, standing up in the face of his kin for their sake. It was a difficult task, a burden they shared. As he turned, his tail cast a feathered shadow of across the ground. The daylight presented a stark contrast of his frame against the backdrop of same. He stood facing Scorchstar once again with determination in his eyes, and as he spoke, he addressed the leader as well as the clan.

"I do not wish to fight with claws or teeth but I will not back down. This is a duty I cannot ignore. Cats who chose not to stand with us, I will think of you through the long nights and regret my inability to secure your lives, save your kin... the rest, you are given my life and everything I have to offer. Those who wish to leave, do so. But as of tonight at sunset, this clan will no longer follow Starclan and forge its own path. If this is not the case, I invite you to strike me down, strike your kin down with sharpened claws of war. Fight for your code, fight for the past. Or fight for the future. It is your decision to make."

Redwing walked out with slight apprehension at the fact that the voice calling a meeting wasn't Scorchstar's. Her anxiety and confusion only grew at seeing who it was- and hearing the words Burntstag spoke, fear made her pelt spike and her ears pin back. Abandon the code? Abandon StarClan? Why was this tom so driven on destroying their way of life? Insulting Scorchstar, insulting everything about ShadowClan that she loved, claiming instead that they should break free. This sounded like the sort of tale that elders told kits, except it was happening right in front of her, for real. This was like Lichenmask all over again. As more and more of her Clanmates spoke in favor of the proposal, and as her own mate was the only one to speak against it, she felt the need to speak up. Going against her Clan's majority hurt. But someone had to say it.

"You're all mouse-brains," she meowed loudly, finally, standing up where she had sat next to Poppyheart. "I don't mean any disrespect, but I seriously cannot believe that you are all not only considering this, but embracing it so fully. Don't you remember what StarClan and the code have done for us? They keep our Clans and our forest together, solidifying us by caring for one another and setting boundaries that keep everyone safe. If you're so mad at Scorchstar for breaking the code, though he mended his mistakes, then why do you try to make bigger ones? During the flood, StarClan literally saved us so many times. Leading our group of cats to safety at the Tribe when dogs would have attacked us. Warning us about Sharptooth as well as providing a way to kill it." Though remembering that day was painful, Redwing continued. "My father gave his life for all the Clans, for the vision of ShadowClan that he believed in- that I believe in- that you all used to believe in. A Clan that does what's right. Not a selfish Clan of cowards who claim that abandoning the ways that we hold dear, and that have saved us so many times, is the future. I can't believe that."

Her eyes sharpened as they looked at Asterspark, a tom she'd grown up alongside. A tom she'd called her friend. "How can you do this?" she demanded, her eyes beginning to sting with desperation, with anger, with fear at what was about to happen to her when all her Clanmates chose this course of action. "How can you possibly think this is right? For my sake, if not the sake of your Clan, please reconsider this foolishness. Asterspark, you can't really want this. Now that you're reunited with Poppyheart, after we thought he was lost forever, you're about to throw everything away for this doomed, demented version. Please... Stop this now." She was about to cry. This tom who she'd known for so long, all these Clanmates she'd known, they were abandoning her and their Clan. Without a second thought. Asterspark had been through so much loss, and Burntstag was convincing him to throw it all away. She hadn't ever been able to get through to him well... and unfortunately, she doubted she could do it now. It pained her. All she could think of was how badly this would turn out for everyone involved...