December Gathering 2019

Lightfang had never wanted to stand out at a Gathering. In fact, despite his size and scars, he went utterly unnoticed in any place as busy as Fourtrees more often than not. He’d never hoped for it as much he did now. At least three ShadowClanners knew his face; he assumed SkyClan, too, might still recognize him. If not him, they would remember Burningwolf. Her injuries had changed her features, and she was quiet these days, the way she’d been at Moonlit Creek in the second trial’s aftermath—but her fur was the same brilliant ginger Lightfang had always known it to be, and he trailed along beside her the same as he had in SkyClan. It was enough to keep him on edge. Still, he curled his tail around her as if the warmth could ease his worries. At the least, it might help chase off hers.

A dull crunch of movement through the snow caught his attention. Stifling a rush of fear (it couldn’t be someone from the skirmish, not with such a leisurely pace), he looked up to see the silver tom who knew Swallowflight—no, Lightfang thought, gaze lingering on the tom’s kinked tail as he searched for the matching name, Clovertwist. Nothing to worry about—not yet. Clovertwist settled on his unoccupied side, away from Burningwolf; Lightfang relaxed enough to return the silver tom’s nod before looking forward again.

It was impossible to miss Spottedstar standing where Tinystar (in Lightfang’s eyes, he would always be Tinystar; even in retirement, the small tom cast a leader’s shadow) once had, or Thornstar nearby, even more intimidating than usual. Not far from them, Oakstar, Torrentstar…Finchstar. All those faces were far more daunting than a casual conversation could ever be. ”It’s nice,” he said, ”not to be in the middle of everything.” Maybe that was saying too much. Then again, he doubted he was the only warrior who shared the sentiment. He turned to face Clovertwist properly, though only for a few moments before he averted his eyes. ”…I should be used to wind by now, shouldn’t I.”

✧ Her response came stuttered, which Houndheart wasn't shocked by. Already he was working up his own quip that threatened to fall from his loose tongue. However, another voice piped up first. The new arrival was a calico tom he had never seen before who simply inserted himself into the conversation. He didn't mind talking to other cats but was mildly agitated by the interruption of the other tom. Through slitted eyes he regarded Salamanderpaw. After rattling on about finding some snow-coated frog, there was still no introduction. With a sharp inhilation of air, he recognized this other cat to be a Shadowclanner. There was a soft hiss that came involuntarily from the sides of his maw, "You got a name, fox-heart? Or should we just call you Froglover?" Houndheart's gaze flickered to Featherpaw, seeking some support from the she-cat he had just moments earlier teased. There was a mild tinge of guilt as he saw the expression on her maw. Perhaps an apology was in order, if he ever did apologize. Instead he flicked his ear, hoping she got the message. ✧

〷 It was a relief to hear that he had not bothered by the events like Foxfire had fretted. Basilpaw wanted her Shadowclan friend to heal, even if he should have been considered an enemy. And he was right, even after such a lowly thing, Beanheart shouldn't have died. No cat should have died that night. She found herself indulging these thoughts out loud, "That's true. We all would have been better off if no cat died."

Remembering Leaftwirl, she glanced up at the stars. Her eyes glazed over slightly as she stared into the pale moonlight and considered that the late she-cat would be watching over them this very night. A soft, saddened sigh left the sides of her maw. This would have been a gathering they attended together. But it was selfish to think of such things. Leaftwirl would not have been at her own side anyways. The tabby's happiness had been a fickle and fleeting thing, as hard to catch as a bird. It could not have been pinned to this place. Realizing that Flintshard was introducing her to the other cat, her green eyes snapped back to attention, "Nice to meet you Daisyflame! You must be a Shadowclan warrior too, right? A lot of the other Skyclanners say that all Shadowclan cat are bad, but I don't think so. I've met Flintshard and now you. Both of you seem pleasant." 〷

Flintshard titled his head in slight confused as Basilpaw glanced up at the sky, mirroring her gaze as he stared at the stars above. ...What was she look at? The stars were...Pretty, he supposed but he didn't see much of a reason to gaze at them - other than perhaps to serve as a distraction from the noises of the Gathering. Only....Right. StarClan. Hm. He hadn't always put much faith in them, Thornstar didn't seem to have any and while he knew they existed, having met a StarClan cat... Hm. He finally lowered his gaze at the same moment as Basilpaw as she started to speak. He listened, a soft huff escaping him at the mention of him being pleasant. He wasn't very sure he agreed with that, he was certain that his prickly nature when it came to socializing made many try to avoid him - which he was fine with that - but he also supposed he had done his best to be...Nice, to Basilpaw. Even when the noise was becoming overwhelming and he wanted to snap at anybody who breathed in his direction. He didn't have anything to really say thought, sort of sitting back to allow the two to socialize with each other, not wanting to really partake in the small-talk unless it was truly directed at him.

"Ah," Addershade smiled. "I remember my first gathering. It was...overwhelming at first,"

Massively anxiety-inducing is probably more the word... he briefly thought

"But eventually, you adjust and get used to it," he continued, then listened to the apprentice's question. "I've been a warrior for..." he paused to think "Quite a number of moons, now. It's strange, so much happens and time goes by so quick. Some days it feels like just yesterday I was still an apprentice,"

It took the young she-cat to get back to him on his greeting, but there was a lot to think about after all of the recent events and he didn't blame her. It must have been hard, losing two of her clanmates and having to witness a gruesome battle at such a young age... all for the sake of Lynxscar's pride and revenge seeking ideals. That battle should've never taken place, but in the end, there was a reason for everything, so StarClan must have had a plan for them, no matter how grim...

Purring at her comment about him and Flintshard not being so bad after all, a smile sat on the large tom's maw. "I'm glad you think so," Daisyflame began, his ginger ears twitching. "Some of our clanmates say the same things about SkyClanners, so I guess all of the clans have narrow-minded members," he chuckled lightheartedly.

Padding in slowly behind RiverClan, Ivybrook kept her eyes trained on the Great Rock. More specifically, she kept them trained on what was beneath the Great Rock, where she'd take her spot among the rest of the deputies. She'd had such a long moon; she'd lost her last surviving sibling as well as the majority of her litter. It had been one of the most consuming moons of her entire life, and she was more than ready to move on to the next one. Ignoring the chatter of those around her, she shouldered her way past anyone who blocked her path and took her seat beneath the Rock, waiting for the Gathering to officially begin.

Poised at the edge of Fourtrees, Dappleshine shuffled on her paws nervously. Nothing had been said last Gathering... Perhaps that would continue into this one. Movement nearby made her head turn, and she found herself gazing into the eyes of her mate. Twining her tail with his for only a moment, she touched her nose softly to his before licking his cheek as he made his way towards his spot at the paws of the leaders. "I'll see you soon, my love." She did not envy him his place, and at times wished there were ways she could help him more, but as she followed him with a loving, warm and pride-filled smile she attempted to convey her solidarity to him silently.

Turning now to the multitudes of other gathered cats, she scanned them all. Would her daughter be here again? Was she already talking to another cat? What if she didn't want to talk to her? Pushing that thought from her mind as she located the oh so familiar pelt of Dacepaw, she hesitated as she saw who she was with. Honeytongue... The warrior had always been kind-hearted... She was Torrentstar's true daughter though. Did she hate her the way that her father... No, that Torrentstar did? Not able to bring herself to approach with Honeytongue right there, that challenge would be faced another day, she instead approached the group around Lightfang, settling nearby.

---

The walk to Fourtrees had been... Difficult, to say the least. More and more often her paws had felt like rocks, or rather, they hadn't felt anything. They were heavy and cumbersome, prone to giving out with random heartbeats or slipping when she thought they were firm. Still, though, Goldengale couldn't bare the thought of missing another Gathering. Not when she had already missed so much. So she had made the journey, albeit slowly, taking her time as she followed towards the back of the crowd. Hopefully the trip home would be as uneventful as the trip in.

---

Mossbloom, having settled in her place, took in her surroundings. Slowly the other clans started to mingle, though she briefly took particular interest in a group of two ShadowClan cats speaking with a younger SkyClan cat. Oakstar's warnings rang in her ears as she watched from the corner of her eye, watching for any sign of aggression. A quick glance to the sky revealed no clouds threatening the moon, but great StarClan was the warning she had received a half moon before ringing in her ears.

OOC: Dappleshine, Goldengale, and Mossbloom are all open to talk!

Sitting here, underneath the moonlight, her gaze just barely caught the look to Flintshard's gaze. As expected, the tom was contented to silence. He was more of the type to not say anything. But she knew that he was likely mulling over something. Glancing between the Shadowclan warrior and the stars for only a second more, she found herself meowing an explanation for the action, "My mom's up there. Her name was Leaftwirl. She died in the battle. She wasn't supposed to be there but she came to help us and, well, she was killed. I wish you could have met her, Flintshard. I think she would have liked you just fine. I don't know if she knew many Shadowclan cats, but if I like you, I'm sure she would too." Perhaps it was strange to bring up a death, one that occurred from tensions between the clans. Basilpaw found strange nerves causing her paws to pluck at the snow. With a sharp exhalation of air, the she-cat pushed away any negative thoughts.

Neither of these cats had killed her mother. Flintshard was her friend, and even after what Beanheart had done to him, the tom said he didn't deserve death. And as she glanced back to the white and ginger-pelted tom, there was a cheerful grin across his maw as he chimed in about the similar mannerisms of their clanmates. His own joyful disposition spurred on her own and she returned to him with laughter bubbling up from her maw. Basilpaw decided that she liked this older warrior. There was something welcoming about him. To think their clans were so different, even in light of the war, would be foolish, "I think its just fine to have friends from other clans. That's what the gatherings are for! Besides, it gives us a chance to escape our own grumpy clanmates once a moon."

Dacepaw listened as Honeytongue clarified, specifying what exactly Torrentstar had told RiverClan in regards to Dappleshine's disappearance. The tortoiseshell nodded slightly, and then when Honeytongue mentioned the leader was hurt, she scuffed a paw nervously. She had added to Torrentstar's pain, too. At last the RiverClan cat asked for a change in subject, and Dacepaw was more than happy to comply, especially at the suggestion of the next topic of conversation. "Houndheart!" she exclaimed with delight, a whole excited wiggle traveling through her body from her ears to her tail to the tips of her toes. "He got his warrior name before the last Gathering! He has his own nest in the warriors den now that he says he likes better than sharing one with me and Duskpaw, but I don't think he means it. I hope he doesn't. I miss it." Dacepaw giggled.

---

The former SkyClan cats hadn't given him the warmest reception, but they had been a bit quiet and subdued since joining WindClan, so Clovertwist didn't take it to heart. He assumed it was just the way that they were. Lightfang responded in a meaningful voice that it was nice to not be in the middle, and the silver tabby tom found himself letting out a huff of hearty agreement and mumbling, "It sure is." Clovertwist's world wasn't quite so big or full of turmoil as Lightfang's, but to an extent he still understood the feeling of being weighed down and overrun by a constant crash of new struggles. The pale tabby-and-white tom attempted to meet his friendly amber gaze for a moment, but, still somewhat timid, Lightfang looked quickly away. It was of no consequence to Clovertwist whether his Clanmate looked at him or not - after all, he'd had trouble looking at himself after the dog attacked him.

Clovertwist shrugged. "ShadowClan cats can slip in the mud, RiverClan cats can miss a fish," he replied pleasantly, "and even pureblooded WindClan cats can get toppled by a good gust." Playfully he bumped his shoulder into Lightfang's, but having gathered the tabby's more reserved nature Clovertwist didn't push too hard - physically or figuratively. Clovertwist went on, "It's important to find your footing. Being out of the middle and on the edges for a while can be helpful." I wish I hadn't had to do it for so long, the young tom thought. During all his time in the medicine den he had been so passive about it. Why was it that now, when he had been free for moons, he was growing to begrudge those times?

Crowpaw padded into the Gathering beside his mother, his first. He flicked his tail, looking around with awe at the gathered cats, before hopping forward, looking around for someone to talk to. Goldengale was strong, and she had his entire family behind her. She’d be fine.

(Crowpaw is open for conversation! Feel free to ask him about his fresh face scar or something)

Falconwing bounded down into the clearing, looking around, eyes bright. Lately she had felt like her life had been losing purpose, with no apprentice, a fully grown daughter, and Flintfang dead. But Gatherings always cheered her up. The opportunity to meet new cats and to learn and share news from other Clans was wonderful.

(Falconwing is open for conversation!)

Ravenmist edged quietly into the crowd, mind going faster than a monster. She had never liked Gatherings, but felt the need to come with everyone else. She searched for Daisyflame’s scent, paws shaking. This place held awful memories for her, and she just wanted to lean into her mate’s fur. The noise and general hubbub didn’t help her nerves, either.

(Ravenmist is open for conversation, feel free to terrify engage my girl!)

Oh. Flintshard's whiskers twitched at the reveal that Basilpaw's mother had been the other SkyClan cat that had been slain in the battle. He...He wasn't sure what to say about that. He wasn't very good at...Comforting. What was he to say? He shifted on his paws, feeling ever so awkward as he thought about any words that could perhaps...Help. But...Basilpaw seemed rather well-adjusted for it. Okay with it. Perhaps nothing had to be said on that matter...But then he blinked. Wait. Slowly, his gaze turned to Daisyflame. If he recalled right from what he had heard, Daisyflame had also taken a life in the battle. Flintshard felt...Unsure about it but the tom had seemed honestly upset about his actions. But that meant that if he had taken the other SkyClan life... Perhaps he would not escape the awkward conversation, but he wasn't going to bring it up. "Having...A friend is nice, I suppose," he murmured as he glanced at Basilpaw. "A better reminder to dislike others only for their actions, not their Clan."

----------------------

Houndheart, huh? Honeytongue grinned at Dacepaw's excited wiggling at the mere mention of his name, a soft laugh escaping her. "I'm sure he is lying through his teeth. What is better than a cuddle pile with Leafbare on its way? I'm sure he won't voice a complaint at all once you and...Duskpaw become warriors and subject him to sharing a nest again...Or if he does, it will be short lived," she purred, her voice lilted with amusement. She was so happy to see Dacepaw having such a good friendship in her Clan, and was sure that Houndheart was just trying to hide how much he missed them. But she did raise a fair point - what would be better than a cuddle pile with how cold things were getting? Her gaze shifted over to Stormbringer who had been sitting quietly the entire time next to her, softly scooting over to press her fur against her friend in an effort to share the warmth her long pelt gave her as a purr. "I dare to say that cuddling is one of the best things ever."

Deerpaw listened intently to Addershade. "Well being a warrior for so long must be great too! All the younger cats respect you and you can do so much stuff!" Deerpaw mewed in amazment. Being a warrior must be great! Deerpaw hoped he could get that much repsect one day.

Sparkfire followed her brother into the Gathering. She narrowed her eyes at the cats that have already gathered, recognizing a few of them to be SkyClan and ThunderClan from the massive war many sunrises ago. It was no wonder Asterstrike had decided to stay behind at camp. It was taking everything she had not to snarl at her enemies, but at least her siblings were still alive. Beartooth, ThunderClan's deputy, had murdered her uncle Poppyheart in battle, and if her father had been here, he probably wouldn't have been able to uphold the truce between the Clans.

She glanced up at the leaders atop the Great Rock, narrowing her eyes into yellow slits at Spottedstar and Oakstar. She hadn't stopped walking, so she ended up accidentally colliding into another cat, knocking the younger pale yellow molly down. Sparkfire stared at the warrior-sized cat and gave her tail an irritable flick. "I'm sorry, but is there any reason why you aren't able to look where you're going?"

The molly looked up at Sparkfire in fright, curling up and trembling, almost as if she had expected her to break the truce right then and there. Sparkfire narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "Uh, hello? Is there any reason you aren't answering me?"

That's when she noticed the younger cat's demeanor change just the slightest bit. She no longer looked afraid for her life. Instead, she looked ... in awe of her. Almost as if she were entranced.

The pale yellow cat suddenly squeaked and looked away immediately, her ears flattening against her head, seeming to have recognized she had been staring. "S-Sorry...."

Sparkfire snorted. This cat certainly was quiet, and strange. She pressed her shoulder into the younger one's side and helped her stand back up. "Well ... I guess I wasn't looking where I was going, either. I am Sparkfire of ShadowClan. And you are?"

"Sh-ShadowClan?" the molly squeaked in fear, her fur bushing out.

"Uh, yeah? Did I stutter? What about you, what's your name?"

The molly looked away quickly with a soft whimper. After a few moments, she replied softly, "M-My name is Honeypaw. I'm.... Um.... I'm from ... WindClan."

Sparkfire blinked. This cat was from WindClan? But she smelled too strongly of SkyClan. Was she lying because she was scared of ShadowClanners after what had happened during the war? She shrugged, deciding to play along. "Nice to meet you. You know, I had met another one of your Clanmates during the last Gathering. I can't really remember her name, but she didn't have a Clan name. Do you know her name?"

Honeypaw stiffened and looked away for the umpteenth time, looking very worried. Sparkfire huffed softly. Well, that settled it, she was most definitely not from WindClan, otherwise she would have remembered Zinnia's name. "Eh, never mind. You said your name's Honeypaw, right? You look kinda, well, warrior-aged. Were you sick or something?"

"Um ... no." Honeypaw shook her head.

"Then why are you still an apprentice? You look like you should be a warrior right about now."

"I, uh.... I'm just, uh...." Suddenly, Honeypaw looked up into Sparkfire's eyes. "I-It's my mentor!" She squeaked softly, startled by the force of her answer, and went on to explain in a more timid voice. "U-Um, my mentor has been really sick lately. H-He hasn't had the time to train me. N-No one has, really, that's why Sp-- Finchstar hasn't assigned me a new one yet. B-But I'm a really good hunter and fighter, s-so once my mentor is feeling better, I'm going to have my final assessment. Th-Then I'll become a warrior."

Sparkfire nodded, trying to seem like she had just bought all that the apprentice had said. "Oh, I see. Well, I hope your mentor feels better soon. Anyway, I'm gonna go ahead and find someplace to sit before the Gathering starts. I'll see you around the WindClan territory, then, huh?" With that, she padded off.

---

"O-Oh. Okay, then. Um, bye, Sparkfire." Honeypaw watched as the ShadowClanner walked away. When the dark molly's pelt disappeared in the sea of cats, she bolted away in search of her mentor, her stomach doing very uncomfortable loops within her. She had just lied to that cat! She wasn't a WindClan cat, she wasn't without a mentor, and she most certainly wasn't a good hunter or fighter. But she just couldn't tell Sparkfire she was actually a very timid and weak SkyClanner who was too scared to become a warrior, only pretending to mess up every assessment her real and very healthy mentor Sunflower gave her.

But it wasn't because she was afraid of what Sparkfire might have done to her would she have found out she was a SkyClanner.

The moment Honeypaw laid eyes on the dark gray molly, she felt as if every depressing dark cloud above her head had vaporized, being replaced with a beam of sunlight that shone on them both. Sparkfire was stunning. She looked so powerful and confident, and while she seemed to have acted quite briskly at first, she seemed to have been interested in what Honeypaw had to say to her.

She knew it was against the warrior code. She knew it was unethical, especially for a SkyClanner.

But no matter how much she tried to deny the fact, she couldn't seem to shake the truth, the truth that would forever haunt her.

She had a crush on a ShadowClan warrior.

While the crowd gathered below displayed a mix of friendliness and caution, the atmosphere on the Great Rock was thick with tension. Thornstar had joined in a muted manner and Finchstar soon followed in his laughably confident way. Spottedstar had missed WindClan's injuries until the other leader brought them up. He'd been a bit too preoccupied watching his youngest clanmates as they tolerated ShadowClan presence. On edge, the ginger tom's gaze flicked stealthy to Thornstar and then back to Finchstar at his ridiculous insistence. Spottedstar didn't oblige, merely drawing his lips back and scrunching his nose in a look of contempt before his focus was grabbed by Oakstar's stern reproach of the ShadowClan leader. SkyClan considered this conflict over. Why Oakstar needed to drag it out in an already uncomfortable situation was beyond him. Spottedstar merely nodded rigidly in agreement and took up the position at the front of the Great Rock.

"Silence! The gathering starts now." He yowled over the crowd, feeling as though his voice was muffled by the snow and strain of merely being there. "Timberpaw and Oakpaw have become apprentices. SkyClan welcomes Flowerthorn and Wolfcall as our latest warriors, the first of many to come in the near future." He paused. Was that all? Everything normal, at least. His features darkened considerably as he began to speak again. "SkyClan and ShadowClan entered war briefly. I am proud to announce that our conflict is over with the help of ThunderClan. Justice hasn't ever been found in killing, and in an effort to prevent tensions from growing again, SkyClan swears to not take revenge on ShadowClan for the deaths of our warriors, Leaftwirl and Beanheart, at our most recent encounter. No doubt StarClan has welcomed them for their service in both life and death. Our four missing warriors have not returned to us, either. I can only hope the stars are guiding their paws, wherever they may be." He stepped back, burying himself behind the other four and ruminating on his announcements.

Even by accident, ShadowClan cats were killers. Prolonging a war with them would have no benefits and steep costs. As for the missing cats, Spottedstar couldn't prevent the wave of disappointment that washed over him. They could be dead and the truth buried with them, or they could be far, far away and just as unresolved. Leaftwirl had left only to return in SkyClan's hour of need; the four, his half-brothers and Burningsun, had fled when SkyClan was on the precipice of war. Not only did their defection greatly weaken the clan, it was their actions in the first place that sparked such devastation. It grieved Spottedstar severely to even consider it, but perhaps the four were better off somewhere else. They were mountain-born, exclusive of everyone outside their small group, and each had been steeped in paranoia of varying degrees ever since Tinylegs' trial. Maybe clan life hadn't been for them. Hopefully they'd found a way of existing that fit better. The leader doubted he would ever know, weighed down by the awareness that he'd not been enough for his mother before them and he would surely be equally as disappointing without them.

ShadowClan’s spot sat empty; as they waited in their places, Foxfire, Beartooth, and Ivybrook seemed subdued, each in their own way. Raventail wondered if he, staring around as if it was his first visit to Fourtrees, looked the same. Tearing his attention from the snow, he sighed. Apparently, there wouldn’t be any casual chats beneath the Great Rock tonight. A gift and a disappointment in one. At least the leaders were as eager to get this over with as their deputies. Spottedstar stepped forward without hesitation, and the Gathering began. For the sake of knowing what to say the next time he had to stand on the Great Rock, Raventail had meant to pay attention to the leaders’ news. However, his mind had other plans—at least until a name broke through the haziness. Leaftwirl. A war. As he swiveled to face Foxfire, he already knew there was no point in asking if he’d misheard. Death was closer than it had been in moons. Giving SkyClan’s deputy a small, sad smile, Raventail dropped his gaze to his paws and did not lift his muzzle again until Spottedstar stepped back from the Great Rock's edge.

---

And some SkyClanners can’t climb, Lightfang thought with a twinge of something he couldn’t place. That wasn’t entirely accurate; though he slipped too easily into old speech patterns, he was no true SkyClanner. It didn’t seem to matter to Clovertwist either way. Something about the younger tom’s manner helped loosen Lightfang’s tongue. Light contact and lighthearted words, meaningful if Lightfang chose to listen, yet demanding nothing. Though he didn’t return Clovertwist’s nudge, he didn’t shy away from it. Privately, he decided that, if he had to spend a Gathering conversing with a fellow warrior, there were worse candidates than the one currently beside him.

Dappleshine had chosen to join them. Lightfang dipped his head to her as she sat. A fellow outsider—maybe it would be all right for her to overhear this. ”Say I wanted to find my footing here,” he began haltingly. ”What would be the best way to start?” The gentle heat from Burningwolf’s pelt radiated through him. Without looking at her, he could see the jagged ends of her ears, scars crossing stripes. Marks she’d earned in defense of this Clan. ”I’m afraid I’m a moon behind.” Before he could elaborate, Spottedstar’s voice rang out over the clearing, and the pale tabby fell silent.

All too quickly, SkyClan’s news took a dark turn. Horror flickered through Lightfang’s expression. He, his brothers, and Burningwolf had all been so certain Thornstar would come for them, that they were the ones to be brought to justice—was this their fault? Had all of this sprung from Redwing’s death? Better this than seeing his family executed, but…others had died. Leaftwirl and Beanheart. Not his mother. Still, they’d been Clanmates. He’d patrolled alongside both of them. Momentarily forgetting Clovertwist and Dappleshine, Lightfang sank back into the snow, relief and guilt and the faintest grief tangled in his throat. Spottedstar finished his round of announcements and, with something that could be either hollow words or a blessing, rejoined the leaders. Four missing warriors. Whether Arno had stayed in Twolegplace or gone beyond the forest, assuming his wounds hadn’t killed him, the Clans hadn’t found him yet.