January Medicine Cat Meeting

"Right," Mothglow agreed. "We're all in this together." Something about that - the reminder that even if StarClan had abandoned them, even if the forest fell apart and everything else with it, they weren't entirely alone because they could still rely on one another - made her feel just a bit better. And so she padded after her fellow medicine cats, wondering if she would ever be ready to face her ancestors. It didn't matter, she supposed, because the cavern opened up before and she touched her nose to the Moonstone, trying not to show the hesitation she felt.

As was customary, and as drawn to their roots as they were, all the medicine cats made their way to Highstones. Idol chatter delayed the inevitable meeting with Starclan. Since the gathering, the stars seemed to twinkle a little brighter as if leering down on their legacy below. The righteous few above watched each hesitant pawstep of the chosen medicine cats. Could it be even their link to the ancestors was not enough to command devotion? Nervousness spread through the gathered, a myriad of emotions as each remembered the events of the gathering. On this night, did the darkness seem more pressing? Was the moonstone's glow more vibrant than ever?

Regardless the truth of these matters, one thing was clear: the ancestors were here tonight and ready to speak.

As the eyes of slumbering medicine cats opened to the starry, dream world, there was a thick fog. It seemed almost black in nature, writing and pulsating, wreathing around the paws of the clan cats. Instead of separate dreams, the pelts of their companions were obvious. Together, they stood, representatives of each clan, encircled by the judgement of both code and past. For several moments it seemed there would be nothing more than the ominous air and eerie silence. Then pawsteps echoed, thrumming in the ear drums of each cat. Before them stood a tom, his pelt enrobed in thick, brown tabby bands and and underbelly white as snow. His tufted ears rose above an intense stare that seemed to fixate on all medicine cats at once. Behind him, hidden behind the twisting tendrils of fog were four other imposing figures. And several other shapes gathered behind them. The ranks of Starclan had come to greet them.

Owlstar narrowed his eyes and allowed his gaze to pass over them for a moment before letting a yowl tear from his tongue in a sound the mirrored the shriek of his namesake, ""Shadow, Wind, River, Thunder, Sky: separate and defined. So it always has been and always shall be. Those who choose to cross these sacred lines betray all those who worked to raise them and protect them. Blood traitors, all of you, dismantling clans and kin for your own selfish desires. You were not made to run moorland with your webbed paws, nor can you climb the trees with your marsh-sodden coat. Behold the power of StarClan, and be weakened. Without the strength of your clan's ancestors pulsing through your blood, do you think this new clan will want you? They do not care for you, they do not know who you are. We do.

If the leaders of the earthen ground will not punish your treason, you will face the wrath of the stars. You have been warned."

As he screeched the message to be delivered, the scenery only grew darker and more devoid of light. Only the eyes of the five ancient leaders were visible as the piercing whistle, similar to the howling winds of the gathering, rose to carry the message delivered by the elect few of Starclan who devoted their afterlives to this cause. It was done. The medicine cats had been given the warning prophecy expressing the desires of their ancestors. What was desire was clear; this was no riddle or mystery. The landscape seemed to fall away underneath the medicine cats as quickly as it had come. Now, as so many half-moons before, they were left to wake and return to thw clans. But this time, it was with a message that would shake the roots of all the clans as they had known it.

Would these chosen medicine cats succeed in their mission? Or would they doom the forest to the very fate that had been forewarned?

Spiderpaw nodded silently when Aspenheart- he had learnt the names of his fellow medicine cats off by heart- asked if he was Mistleshine's apprentice. He could sense a slight tension in the older cat's voice. Maybe he was just being paranoid? But his hunch was proven true when the WindClan tom whispered reassurance that nothing would or could hurt them here. It would be reassuring on its own, but the atmosphere and the fact that Aspenheart had to clarify this in the first place bothered Spiderpaw.

Mistleshine's voice behind him made him jump a little. "S-sorry, Mistleshine. I was just excited!" He buried his fears deep and flashed a sheepish grin at his mentor. Nothing would happen to them. That's what Aspenheart said, right? His mentor looked as if she was mulling something over, then murmured a warning. A fine shiver ran down Spiderpaw's spine as he pressed gently against Mistleshine for support. He hung back with Softpaw when the others went to press their noses against the Moonstone. His heart beat an unsteady rhythm in his chest. It would be fine, wouldn't it?

Just then, an odd presence filled Highstones. It was just a little feeling at first, but as the seconds ticked by it became more and more obvious that something was up. He shrank into himself a bit, expecting the worst. A loud, commanding screech filled the air. A large brown tabby tom stood before them, flanked by four other cats. If Spiderpaw were to hazard a guess, he'd say they were leaders. Past leaders, that is, as their pelts twinkled and glowed as dead cats' pelts tend to do. Spiderpaw found himself pressing against Softpaw, not for her comfort this time but for his. This was as bad- no, this was worse than the Gathering. He closed his eyes and waited for this fever dream to end.

Soon the StarClan cats were gone, having left them with only a dire warning and a tangible anxiety among the cats. "M-mistleshine?" He rasped, shaking in leftover fear. He shouldn't be afraid, this was StarClan, but he couldn't get rid of the lump in his throat and the tremor in his body.

Softpaw knew as soon as she said it, it was the wrong thing to say. But how could she let this starry tom insult her clanmates? StarClan couldn't be angry at her for voicing her opinions. I mean, they were doing it right now! Was she just meant to allow StarClan to insult good cats for loving too much, just because they were dead? Finchstar was half dead, and he still supported love! She generally kept opinions to herself, but this? This was too strongly felt to keep it inside. She'd explode if she tried.

"Dappleshine, Patrick, Zinnia, Lightfang, and Swallowflight are no less WindClan warriors than cats like Barleytuft and Foxspirit!" She yowled, jumping to her Clanmates defense. "It's not fair to treat them differently just because they weren't born in WindClan! You said cats with webbed feet can't run on the moor? Well, then you obviously haven't met Dappleshine! They've all done their best for WindClan, and we're lucky to have them!" It was true. WindClan was lucky to have them. It wouldn't be the WindClan she knew and loved without them. Without Dappleshine, Smudgekit and Sedgekit wouldn't exist. Without Zinnia and Patrick, who would entertain her with stories about their travels? Without Lightfang and Swallowflight, would WindClan had survived the beasts? Who were StarClan to dictate love? Were they so perfect themselves? She glanced at Spiderpaw and shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. Did he feel the same way she did? Did her mentor feel this way? Did anyone think this was wrong? No. It doesn't matter what they think, Softpaw thought. What matters is what my heart tells me. And my heart says StarClan is wrong. She decided firmly.

What she said next, however, she would learn to regret later. Emotions getting the better of her, tears blurring her vision, she jumped forward and as if yowling at the Moonstone would make StarClan hear, she hissed loudly.
"Being dead doesn't make you wiser than any of us living cats!"

Aspenheart woke with a great start, his head jerking away from the Moonstone as if it had burned him... and so it had. The cats that stood before the medicine cats in their seemingly collective vision were the very same from his dream just one moon ago... he recognized their shadowy pelts. So, this was the law of StarClan, enforced for the first time. There was a lump in his throat impossible to swallow. They had strayed so far from the natural order. At first, it all seemed well and good, but the silver tom couldn't say he was sure anymore. If StarClan was sending down fire from the sky, then they had a lot more authority over the living forest than anybody had really expected. They were stronger now. Their purpose was clear.

WindClan was not so inclined towards conservatism, but there was no longer any choice. The stars had spoken. They had a point; they had the right. Though the cats who appeared to them were clearly old souls, they spoke with the authority of all of their ancestors. That included Pricklebush. That included Quailpaw. That included Brookclover, who might have been pleased at this revelation if she was looking onward. But authoritarianism? Aspenheart blinked hard, his bleary eyes set firmly on the cave floor. How could he possibly explain to Finchstar that they had to comply? Ugh, he made things so difficult! He had no idea the consequences! Nobody ever listens to me!

Softpaw's hiss brought him back to reality. Aspenheart had had enough. He was important. He spoke for the stars. And he was tired of not being listened to.

Aspenheart growled as he cuffed Softpaw over the head with a sheathed paw, the shock and force pitching her small body to the ground. There was silence in the cave for a moment. Aspenheart stared at his paw, stained green by herbs and constant toil. He had never laid a paw on another cat like that before. His expression went weak for a heartbeat. His legs urged him forward to pick her up off the ground, apologize... but no. A mentor had a right to discipline a wayward apprentice. Aspenheart's ears turned backward and he cleared his throat. "You will never speak that way again," he murmured. "Finchstar's mate. Your brother. Every great leader our clan has known. They have enough wisdom to make ten of you. We're going home, and I am going to do my duty. I am going to explain the will of the stars to my leader."

He looked back at the other medicine cats, at their faces of mixed emotions. Shame burned within him, but the tempered rage made a mask of his face. "My family is going to suffer. I will not be complicit. We were given a message, and if we do not share it, we are all at fault. There will be no rebellion from me, because I will be snuffed out in a second." His eyes flickered towards Softpaw. "And clearly, I have a lot more work to do." He nodded in the direction of the tunnel, urging his felled apprentice towards it. He did not look back to say goodbye to his contemporaries.

He padded home in silence.

Mothglow didn't leap away from the Moonstone when she awoke - instead, she rose to her paws and regarded it with apprehension. Aspenheart was right, she supposed, in that her Clanmates had a right to know what StarClan thought. Even if she couldn't accept their judgment, it was her place to pass it on, wasn't it? If it was to help others, and not hurt them - to keep them from being hurt... Well, that was what she wanted.

Not like this, she thought. She'd never thought the danger she taught her Clanmates to avoid would come from something she'd trusted so implicitly all her life. Softpaw's accusations were brave but foolish, if their ancestors were serious about their threats. Still, she couldn't find it in her to disagree completely. It was time to go home, to share what she'd learned and to hope they would understand that she was nothing more than a messenger sharing the will of the stars.

Softpaw had never been afraid of a living cat before. She never would've dreamed the first living cat to scare her this badly would be Aspenheart. Her mentor. Her friend. How..How could he? She'd trusted him. She trusted him more than she trusted Downpaw, for stars' sake! How could he do that to her? She wanted to cry, to curl up in a ball and disappear forever. To a place not even StarClan could find her. She'd wanted to become a medicine cat to help others. StarClan had seemed so nice before. Darksong and Echolight seemed nice. What had changed? Oh. That's right. Love. That's what. Finchstar would agree with her. After his speech at the Gathering, he just had to. And Barleytuft? He loved Graybriar, right? He'd understand, right? Downpaw would always agree with her, that much she knew.

Softpaw was still in shock. She lay on the floor for several heartbeats, too shocked to do anything else. She fought back tears. If Aspenheart wanted to hurt her, well, she wouldn't let him. He didn't mean to, he couldn't. He'd apologize to her, he'd comfort her, and everything would go back to normal. But he didn't. Softpaw shakily got up, only to watch one of the cats she trusted most walk away through the tunnel. Only when he left did she break a sob. Quickly bidding farewell to Spiderpaw with a touch of her nose, she padded after her mentor. But this time, she went alone, walking slowly, as if the chilling, empty darkness was normal. Oh, how her eyes were different. As if she'd aged ten moons in a single sunrise. She'd seen that StarClan wasn't perfect. She'd seen the rage of living and dead cats.

But she would get through it.

Even if she had nobody on her side. Even if Barleytuft, Graybriar, Finchstar, Goldengale, Clovertwist, Aspenheart, and Downpaw all left, she would be there. She would survive. And she would thrive. She would care for WindClan with or without StarClan. And if they had a problem with it, well, then they'd made a mistake in making her a medicine cat. For the first time since her appreniceship, Softpaw distanced herself from her mentor. The silver tabby padded further and further away with his wobbly gate. Softpaw's paws urged her to flank his right side, but she refused. Instead, she broke into a sprint, running, running, running.

The cream pelt only stopped at the Thunderpath tunnel, and after that, she carried on a steady sprint, refusing to slow until the terrain became familiar. There was no use in scaring the camp. If she went in without Aspenheart, the Clan would surely know something was wrong. So for now, she'd play the part of an innocent apprentice. But she was no longer that. There would be no sheltering her now. She wasn't a newborn kit anymore. And it was time to act it. Aspenheart wouldn't be around forever. Softpaw knew that. But now, after what had happened, her heart didn't seem to ache as much about the thought. Death was inevitable. And now, Softpaw wasn't sure if Aspenheart was worthy of her trust. Yes, he was more than capable of being her mentor. But her friend? No. He didn't deserve that title anymore. Friends don't hurt each other. And when they do, they apologize. He didn't apologize. He wasn't sorry for what he'd done. He wasn't sorry for the pain he'd inflicted on her heart.

Softpaw would care for WindClan. Every single one of them. Whether they were Clanborn or not. Whether they were half-clan or not. She'd take care of every single one of them. Even if Aspenheart and StarClan wouldn't, she would. And she wouldn't ever let herself regret it.

Sagelight woke up with a start, quickly rising to his paws, blinking. He looked around at the other cats, concern etched deep into his face. StarClan really was mad. At all of them. He backed up from the stone, a flash of fear reflecting in his bright blue eyes. He had to let Spottedstar know immediately. But something stopped him from leaving first. He hung back, taking solace in the fact that his colleagues, his friends, had experienced the same thing he had. A shudder ran over his pelt as he searched for Mossbloom's form in the darkness. Before he could move again, Aspenheart's new apprentice Softpaw spoke up. She yowled at the stone, angry at StarClan herself. Almost as quickly as she had done so, Aspenheart had smacked her to the ground. It was a sheathed strike, but a strike nonetheless. Sagelight winced, the scars on his shoulder prickling from the memory of Mintwhisker attacking him at a previous meeting several moons ago. "Aspenheart—" he choked out, but the silver tom was already leaving.

The pointed tabby swallowed hard, looking around once more at the other cats. He saw Softpaw slowly get up from the ground and he stepped over to meet her, giving her a few parting words. "Stay strong, 'paw, we'll all get through this together, yeah?" He faked a small smile as she left, the smile fading as soon as no cat was looking at him. This would be a struggle for all of them. For the whole forest. Normally he would figure it was nothing they couldn't handle with StarClan on their side, but now...? Sagelight sighed, his usual bright face darkened by a frown. "I have to go let SkyClan know," he murmured, flicking his tail in a goodbye to the other cats before he padded out after the two WindClanners. He didn't know quite what to think yet, he just knew he had to do what he was told.

Mossbloom nodded, the faintest hint of relief warming her chest as Mothglow and Aspenheart spoke, and as Sagelight approached she pressed her tail lightly to his shoulder as she shook her head. "I know only as much as you do, I don't know what pressed StarClan to do what they did... But I never saw it coming either. If only I had been able to figure out the prophecy sooner... But I was given little to work with, so I'm not sure how they could have ever expected me to figure out, especially with taking Marmalade and Falconwing from me this moon." The sourness tinging her mew was unlike her usual demeanor, but she looked away as she finished speaking, unable to provide the answers she was sure that her previous apprentice was looking for. 


It was time, now. The moon was in place, and as the waiting cats fidgeted nervously before descending into the darkness Mossbloom took up the rear, nodding encouragingly to the young apprentices before bringing up the back of the group, settling herself near the shining Moonstone. She wasn't sure what was coming, or what would be waiting for her, for all of them, in the fields and forests of StarClan.... But they would meet it together. She had never expected to open her eyes and find that they all were together, this was a first. If only Pricklebush were there.... Maybe he could provide some insight... They were surrounded by a dark, menacing fog, and the calico shivered involuntarily as she peered into the depths of the swirling clouds. Finally, there was movement, and a tom she did not recognize stepped forth, eyes narrowed. 


Four others joined slightly behind him at his sides, and the expression on their faces was not kind and welcoming. Narrowing her eyes slightly as she waited in anticipation for what was coming, and the tom did not keep them waiting for too terribly long. The contents of the message he spoke and the conviction with which it was spoken set her pelt on end, and as their surroundings grew ever darker and finally, finally, the light from the eyes of the five cats faded away, replaced by almost suffocating darkness as her mouth grew dry and tasteless. Finally pulled from the dark expanse of... StarClan, she supposed, where else could that have been? - She was greeted suddenly by Aspenheart's anger as he struck out at his apprentice. Green eyes blazing with anger at the sudden shift in the tom's demeanor, she growled at him even as he passed without turning back. 


Dumbfounded in light of the news she had just received, and the reaction of one of the cats she considered a friend, and a cat she could turn to and rely on, she could feel her eyes darkening and growing blank as she considered the situation grimly. As Softpaw made her way out, and Sagelight started to follow, her eyes met his briefly. "We can get through this, together. All of us. I must return to ThunderClan... But know that I will always aid you all to the best of my ability." Turning on shaky paws, she made her way back to the forests of ThunderClan, feeling the piercing gaze of the stars through the bare branches overhead. Never before had she longed for the lush foliage of greenleaf so desperately, even on her hungriest, coldest mornings.