April Gathering 2020

Olivestone could hardly believe the words that were coming out of Morningpaw's mouth, the words that her own apprentice was brave enough to say to the cats that had taken down Thornstar and Torrentstar without trouble, the cats that attacked Briarthorn for speaking his mind, the cats that would have no qualms about silencing a wayward apprentice. Her heart began to pound as eyes turned to the trio, and if there was any fur on her body that hadn't already been on end, it was now. Olivestone agreed with her apprentice, for sure, but she knew the consequences would be great. Under any other circumstances, the mild-mannered she-cat wouldn't have reacted in such a way, but Olivestone knew it was necessary here. She leaned down and hissed into her apprentice's ear,
"What did I say? I said to keep quiet! One more word out of you, and you'll be picking the ticks off of the elders for a moon!"

She gritted her teeth as the Righteous Few would undoubtedly try to silence Morningpaw for her fighting words, and she shifted her body to shield the apprentice from their wrath, even if it would cost her her own life.

Willowpaw flinched as the brave apprentice spoke up. It was courageous of her, but she knew that it wouldn’t end well. She took an instinctive step forward towards Morningpaw, the WindClan apprentice. Willowpaw saw Morningpaw’s mentor, Olivestone, step forward protectively.

Badgerstar's ears twitched at a little voice from the WindClan side. With a nod to Galestar, he walked with regal movement, silently, towards the defiant little scrap. He did not intend to wound her, as Brackenstar did. He expected to give a light talking-to. It was not her fault that her foolish leader had taught her to step out of line.

His claws were out as he approached and leaned down to meet Morningpaw's eyes. He paid little mind to Olivestone, but his eyes gave away that he had no ill intentions for the physical fate of the apprentice. "Sweet, sweet Morningpaw," he whispered. "Born of Spotlake and Crowspirit. You have favor with us. You were born of blood so pure and clean that it is almost like the fresh air of the flowering moors. You are lucky, my dear. But you are also naive to the ways of this world and the StarClan that now reigns." In the stunned silence that came after Vixenstar's order, Badgerstar lifted his head to WindClan.

"Let this brave little apprentice be your example!" he called out to the crowd. "Her poor, shaken soul, warped by this tragic leadership, she now believes that she is above our laws. Above our ways. Above our code! I find pity with her. But I cannot let it go unresolved. Morningpaw, little one, you have a choice." His next remarks were more for the clearing than for her. "If you are so inclined to rebellion, you will unfortunately have to join Finchstar. Little cat, that is a resolution I could not bear. You haven't even grown into your warrior paws yet. But if any cat would like to challenge the decision we have reached, after countless moons of disrespect and sin from Finchstar, be our guests!"

Badgerstar looked to Morningpaw one last time. "Do not fall out of our favor! This IS the will of the stars!"

---

Aspenheart locked eyes with Clovertwist. There was nothing he could say. This was not the fate he foresaw. As the black-and-white tom approached Morningpaw, he felt another wave of panic tug his heart. He began to sit up, wild eyed, as Badgerstar ducked his head to meet the apprentice's. His intentions were clear. Aspenheart... didn't know what to say.

"W-windClan, please, stand down!" he called out to his clanmates. "Don't be stupid!"

... ah.
Ah.

Morningpaw was a brave apprentice- this much was evident. Foolish, oh-so-foolish, but brave. Her spirit demanded she say something when nobody else would, and she did- but even the bravest cats have their weaknesses, do they not? On the one paw, disappointing Olivestone and Aspenheart was guaranteed if she continued to protest- two of the cats she most respected in her entire Clan. The prospect of being punished by StarClan factored in as well, of course, but not nearly as much as it should've- it wasn't long ago that she found herself in similar peril, and surrender had never been her way- but even so, no cat was without some level of self-preservation, and at Badgerstar's words, she positively quaked, averting her gaze as her courage left her like a sparrow from a branch.

But on the other... Finchstar. Finchstar was going to die, and then die up to eight more times, and then actually stay dead. And maybe the others were willing to sit by and let that happen, out of fear of these tyrannical silver-pelted predators, but to Morningpaw, sitting by was a coward's move, and it was like driving the claw into Finchstar's heart herself.

In the end... it was her fear that triumphed- her fear of StarClan, and her fear of disappointing Olivestone. But some tiny spark of rebellion yet remained, as she mewed out one last reply- to the StarClan leader before her, and to the clearing as a whole.

"If this is the will of the stars... then maybe it's time to start having Gatherings during the daytime instead."

(Oh, she could feel the ticks already...)

Streampaw forced the purr down her throat. She couldn’t purr during a time like this. She couldn’t, but Morningpaw was so bold and if she continued to protest, WindClan could be in big trouble. Streampaw wanted to defend herself too, but she couldn’t risk it. What if StarClan came after her, and her friends?

Brackenstar had moved away, and the warrior he had struck seemed well enough - rattled but not significantly injured. Her slightly glowing eyes met Aspenheart's for a moment, staring into their depths without emotion before her head turned towards a voice of another of her own, one that forced her tail to lash suddenly. Galestar's head tilted oh so slightly as she regarded the apprentice that spoke out against them as Badgerstar stepped forward, regarding her silently as he spoke of her joining Finchstar as he faced his fate. She had hoped that would be the end of it, and Morningpaw would stand down, but alas - the brave but naive apprentice continued. Before Badgerstar could do any more, she stepped between the two, turning her gaze from the apprentice and the warrior that had moved to take a defensive stance to Badgerstar. Her voice was calm and unyielding as she spoke. "She is but an apprentice, with much to learn about the ways of the warrior code. Keep in mind Badgerstar, to their knowledge Finchstar has been a good leader. He has cared for the cats placed in his charge, that much I will give him. However, he holds no true love for them, his love having been placed solely in a she-cat that left him moons ago. He abandoned them then, and has multiple times since - they just haven't seen it. They don't realize the full extent of his crimes, and the chances and opportunities he has been afforded to be free of his sins."

Her gaze rose past Badgerstar to the WindClan leader and her lip rose slightly in a snarl. "I warned him, and provided him a chance to be better, for himself, for his clan. In turn, he has spit on the opportunity he was provided, despite the times he was previously forgiven for turning his back on those he had vowed to care for. This is why he is facing punishment, WindClan, young Morningpaw. His punishment is not yours to share, just as his crimes were not committed by you." She turned, lowering her face to gaze into the apprentice's, features softening kindly. "My dear, we are StarClan, but we are above and beyond StarClan as well. We are the Righteous Few, those who are determined to restore the forest and plains, rivers, shadows, and skies, to their former glory. Much has been lost already, untimely deaths due to the folly of those who thought their position held them above the code that made them who they were. It is unfortunate that these events should have to continue, but while we still have those who speak against the foundations the clans were built upon, we must take the necessary measures to bring the ultimate peace. I do hope you can understand, my dear. You are brave, and will grow to be an excellent warrior, and your dedication and faith to your clan and your leader is admirable. It is a shame that faith is so unfounded in a leader such as Finchstar, my dear."

Her head rose to meet Olivestone's, and she lowered her head briefly in greeting. "You are doing a fine job mentoring her, she has the qualities of an excellent warrior. I do hope that she, and all of WindClan, will place their faith in a far more.... reliable leader." With that, she looked back to where Vixenstar had joined the living leaders on the rock, waiting for their reaction. She could feel the rage rolling off of Brackenstar's pelt, and the amusement from Owlstar as he hovered near a SkyClan apprentice. What would they decide?

Olivestone could hardly breathe as the second of the Righteous few approached the trio and began to speak. Thankfully, she too was one more for words than for action, and calmly explained to Morningpaw exactly why they were doing what they were doing. Olivestone didn't agree by any means, but she was just thankful that they weren't going to strike down her apprentice for being unable to hold her tongue to save her life. However, she wasn't expecting the starry leader to turn to her, let alone compliment her mentoring, considering Morningpaw's actions. She shakily dipped her head to the starry leader, and trying to control the waver in her voice, she murmured, "Thank you."

A weary sigh, shaking his head mildly, masking the bubbling fury within. His stomach began to flutter unceasingly, in an unsettling whirring - although, not in fear. Not in submissiveness, not in terror... but rather, a kindling rage. The wrath he had been suppressing for so long, ever since his mother had been ripped from him. Resentment began to trickle up his throat like bitter bile, as Smokepaw's characteristically stoic gaze distorted into a frenzied snarl. Paying little heed to the useless words burbling from the mouths of these... these terrorist ghosts, he rose to his paws and navigated through the mayhem with calculated ease. The warped atmoshpere did little to waver him; it was manifest that the petrified cries of those around him didn't unnerve him in the slightest. Throat prickling, he observed the every movement of this so-called 'Righteous Few', adamandtly defiant.The lurching of his stomach eased into a vibrating, tingly numbness... and his glare hardened until they were glinting with a wintry light. It didn't take long before he located his sister. Lip curled in a vexed sneer, he sidled up to Viperpaw and Redpaw, flanking his littermate's other side without a word. His pelt was rattling with scarcely-restrained anger. Voice lowered to a grave tone, he could barely keep himself from trembling in fury as he hissed, "It was them."


He could barely apprehend what these cats were saying. There they were, weaving between them all, deceptively honeyed words seizing the hearts of the forest. And yet, all he could see were devilish ghouls, praising themselves as all-superior entities that couldn't give a rat's tail for any of these lives. They mingled carefully with their prey, aiming to win their fear-founded respect... yet with nothing but mouse-hearted threats. These weren't the honourable cats that old stories once preached. These were, as that other apprentice had described, predators. And right now, Smokepaw found himself in resolute support of the WindClanner who had just offered her rightful input. Really, he had wanted to cheer for her. But the sourness robbing him of words restricted him from doing so. His enmity rose as two of the StarClan leaders criticised Morningpaw's speech, heavily implying Finchstar's incompetence. The rustic taste of blood lingered in his mouth, but he continued to bite hard on his tongue, glaring blankly at the Great Rock.



Smokepaw couldn't resist any longer. Passionate fury, spitting words of rational ire, all locked within his mind, bubbling and churning to perpetually haunt his thoughts. An unspoken rant, moons of a concealed wrath, shrouded by his grief for the loss of a loved one. Shrivelling obsessions that withered his brain, unreleased emotions that were prone to explode. His resolve faded like a wisp of smoke in a gale, his feelings no longer chained up... now, they were to be heard by all. That thin thread snapped. And he realised, he didn't really care anymore. They would hear what he wanted to say. One deep, wavering breath, gaze drifting agonisingly to Flintstar... before the venomous diatribe erupted from his maw, "You've striked fear into these cats. Manipulated them with your methods... because you want them all to cower before you! But your words don't scare me. Call me foolish, call me a living mistake, but what do I have to fear? Death? No... I'd rather die then let you belittle us with your fox-hearted threats! What am I to you, a sin-rooted half-Clan fault? Nothing but the USELESS SON OF THORNSTAR AND TORRENTSTAR? You-- YOU KILLED MY PARENTS! YOU TORE HER AWAY FROM ME, MY FAMILY. A-AND I-- I WAS JUST A KIT! How selfish would you have to be, to rip apart a mother from her newborns? StarClan, I'm not scared of you. I've witnessed personally how cruel your actions are, how far you're willing to go to silence anybody that defies your treacherous beliefs... so throw me to the Dark Forest, for all I care! Smite me, do whatever you want, but I'm not going to live any longer keeping quiet, listening to your tyrany." Hollow, ragged inhales, quavering as he finally let go. Smokepaw's eyes were smouldered with a new inferno, one of undivided hatred.

Swansong tensed as one of the starry cats split from the others, her eyes widening as he stepped over beside her and Redpaw. A strange feeling - an odd heat - started to rise in her as the tom purred his way around them, his tail running over her apprentice's back in a way reminiscent of a snake, and her eyes narrowed. Who are you? The barest hint of a rumble started in the base of her chest as her fur began to rise, but she stood still as stone, her eyes following the starry tom as he wound his way to the leader's son. Every move reminded her of some slimy creature she'd once seen at the edge of a pool, its body smooth and fluid as it sought something - perhaps some prey to devour. A leech, or a snake.... How could this one call himself a StarClan cat?

Her eyes twitched to Sunflower as a scent reached her nose, and she glanced at him in concern as his ears flattened in shame, her tail gently reaching up to touch him on the shoulder in sympathy. This really was turning out to be one of the worst gatherings yet - she couldn't blame him for being terrified.

Keeping half an eye on him, her attention turned back to the StarClan cats in the middle. A tom had moved forwards, his raised voice accusing them of injustice, and she gasped as a starry pelted tom struck him down, shock rooting her paws to the earth. Luckily, another came forward to reprimand him, but.... I... this.... this is not StarClan! They almost seemed as if they were bound together by only a grass blade, half of them working divisively. More spoke, their words half-comfort, half-threat.

Swansong shook her head, her ears flattening as she fought to think. What are you trying to say? Their words she could understand perfectly, but the subtext.... what were they leading towards?

A sleek she-cat stepped forward, and almost the first words that oozed from her maw were directed at Sunflower. Swansong stiffened, her eyes flashing. There was no need to call attention to him! How dare she, this- this-! Swansong bit back the flash of anger, breathing in and out through her nose, her eyes narrowed to slits as she watched the starry she-cat leap up onto the rock. Nothing could be gained by snapping back at her, nothing but more attention brought towards her brother, and foolishness down on her own head.

The she-cat continued, and Swansong watched, keeping her silence, and keeping part of her attention on those to either side of her. Righteous few.... A tingle of surprise went down her spine at the mention of an event from long ago, just before she was born. Lichenmask - it had to be. The tom who had attempted to bring purity to the Clans.

Then the ultimatum came.

Her breath froze in her throat, an unreasoning fear gripping her as Finchstar was singled out, the other leaders told to strike him down. That... that's what they wanted. They wanted death. She could remember another death, another two. Bloodshed, unneeded bloodshed. That was where she'd felt it before. That same bitter coldness. Righteous. Her eyes wide with horror, her gaze flitted to an apprentice calling out against these.... She wasn't sure what to think of them as, anymore.

Tinystar had been righteous, as had Burningsun. Both had brought nothing but grief.

Swansong watched as the foxes padded forwards, purred words dripping with poisoned honey reassuring the apprentice, their glowing eyes narrowed in false gentleness. I've met you before. In different skins, under different skies, but the same.

Looking around, she saw the one winding around her Clan - Owlstar, they had called him - and her eyes turned to the one who had struck the WindClan tom - Brackenstar. The one who had called out her brother, despite the fact that he had done nothing wrong, for simply being afraid. A feeling like bile rising in her throat soured her mouth. This is not right. Everything the apprentice had said, she found resonating in herself. Yes, that was the law StarClan had established. Yet why had no one but an apprentice spoken out?

Another voice rose, a furious one, from ShadowClan. Her eyes turned to the young tom, softening in empathy at the broken grief and anger pouring from his soul. No, something was not right here.

Maybe it was time for another voice. She couldn't simply sit by. No matter whether they singled her out for an attack, she couldn't let this slide. What could they do to her that others had not done? Give her more scars on her body? Death didn't hold fear for her. Not anymore. And if they went after her loved ones, they would have to be from the Dark Forest. And perhaps, just perhaps, she could help direct some of their wrath from this poor young cat who had grown up without his parents, too.

"I agree with the WindClan apprentice." She took a step forwards, her eyes moving from one to the other as her soft voice rang out. "Your Code I agree with - and every clause in it. No cat should leave the Clan they grew up in for another, and no one should knowingly go behind their Clan's back to have kits with someone from another." She set her jaw, pale blue eyes narrowing. "But your methods are less than agreeable. From the moment you stepped into our gathering - a time you yourselves set for the Clans to share news and companionship - you have treated us like mice. No cat should treat another like you have. Some of you-" She dipped her head Galestar - "Have respected us, and explained your reasons with reason. But others-" A special glare turned to Owlstar and Vixenstar - "Seem to regard us as dung."

Her tail lashed behind her. "Perhaps you have reason for your anger, but I cannot see that it should lead to this. Finchstar has been wrong, as all cats have. He is merely mortal, like the rest of us, but I can't see a reason for you to ask for his execution in cold blood." Silently, she willed them to see reason, to see what they were doing with their actions. "All you will do, if you ask for this, is further divide us, and drive away those who wished to see you as right! StarClan, the StarClan that has shown itself to us for generations, does not ask for the death of a cat simply because they made a speech. Let those who want to believe him and follow him, follow him." A slight curl of her lips made itself known as she turned her eyes to Owlstar. "But try and wrest the others to your side with this... display, and you might find them driven off."

She fell silent, bracing herself for what was to come. If Finchstar had been sentenced to death for his words, she could be, too. But... That is a price I will pay, if I must. There were other mentors who could teach Redpaw, far better mentors than her, and she had no kits to support. She had nothing to lose. True, they could shame her, and tear her down, but the words needed to be said.

He did not understand anything.
Grousefrost hadn’t wanted to leave his den in the twilight. He had roused only for Goldengale. The she-cat’s gentle eyes, full of the warmth that he needed to keep living for, urging him to move. To do something, to go somewhere. When Finchstar had led them to the gathering, Grousefrost resigned himself to the unfortunate affair.

He couldn’t hear a word, but he saw the lightning flash. He felt the quiver of the earth as thunder bored down on them all. Saw the strange cats, with peculiar pelts that appeared from nowhere.

And every single word was lost.

He wanted to yowl his frustration. His claws scored the ground as he watched them pace, watched one smack down a cat and growled. His paws moved to step forward but another starry cat did so first, followed by Aspenheart. He felt confused. Conflicted, bewildered. Lost. His silver ears pricked desperately to hear a single thing. A pawstep brought him an inch closer to Galestar. Blue eyes filled with emotions he couldn’t hope to express. Was his mother okay in StarClan? His siblings?

He’d never get an answer. His head lowered shamefully, wish unspoken as he noticed the anger of the other cats around him. Something they had said, or done, had angered the rest of the clan cats. Their starry pelts represented hope, but they didn’t have a cure for what he needed most.

Redpaw certainly agreed with the words of the WindClan cats that dared to speak to these tyrants, though she had somewhat of a sense of self-preservation, and knew that it wouldn't do any good to endanger herself by slinging insults at the starry cats that stood before them. She kept her tail wrapped around Viperpaw, who continued to press herself against the older apprentice, and when Smokepaw appeared and joined the pair, she tried to wrap her tail around both in a gesture of comfort.

What she wasn't prepared for was Smokepaw's eruption. The soot-and-white apprentice's fury was a sight to behold, stunning Redpaw for a moment before she realized that she agreed with every word thrown at the Righteous Few with absolute loathing. When the flow of words ceased, she found his gaze and nodded, understanding and agreement shimmering in their blue depths.
You go, Smokepaw! You tell 'em!
She lowered her voice and murmured to him, "I stand with you."

Voices rang out around the clearing, defiant calls to action, and Batbite fought the urge to leap to her paws. She wanted to join in, to spit in the face of their demands, but as tempting as it was she knew it would do no good. She remained stone-still, expression betraying nothing at all. WindClan was right to oppose them, she thought, though not so openly - Finchstar was simply following his heart, something she had endless respect for, but if it cost his Clan their leader then was it right?

The Righteous Few, these star-furred cats called themselves. But what of the rest of their ancestors?

She wanted to observe the StarClan cats, to see how they interacted with one another - to see if there was anything there, anything at all, that could be turned against them. There was an alliance between them, clearly, some tenuous sort of peace, but it seemed almost... Fragile, she noted, straining to hear their words over the hushed cries of the living cats. That wasn't enough, she thought to herself, not enough to act upon.

Didn't the cats who were crying out now understand? The risks of their words, the very real threat - this was not a StarClan willing to listen, the ancestors that had greeted apprentices at the Moonstone for generations. This was a StarClan with a single goal in mind, willing to do whatever they must to achieve it. A StarClan willing to kill, seemingly without remorse or regrets.

Oh, her heart went out to the WindClan apprentice who was first to challenge them - her labeling of them as predators was well-placed, in her opinion; they seemed far closer to foxes than cats in their methods, vicious and bloody but cleverly plotted all the same. She felt for the ShadowClan apprentice, one of Thornstar and Torrentstar's kits from his words, who demanded to know why they had torn his mother away. She sympathized with the SkyClan warrior who spoke out with well-spoken words, appealing to their better nature, though the attempt to reason at all seemed misplaced.

But none of that mattered. It was time, she realized, to speak. Her voice was calm and clear, an attempt at reasoning not with the Righteous Few but instead with the living, with the cats she thought of now as her comrades - they had a common goal, it seemed, but they were taking the most dangerous path toward it.

"Don't you understand?" she asked, and despite her small frame she made sure her voice carried over the crowd. "They don't care about any of that. This StarClan, these Righteous Few... They have a single goal, and they've already made it clear, haven't they? It doesn't matter how much blood is shed, or how many lives are lost - so long as they achieve their goal. Righteousness and purity, at any cost."

The StarClan you're imagining, the gentle guidance you're seeking... You won't find it here.

She hoped that, despite her simply observational tone - neither defending nor accusing, simply stating what she'd observed thus far - her unspoken message was clear to the cats that needed to hear it: these cats were beyond reason, there was nothing left to be done to convince them of their worth. They couldn't be reasoned with, presumably they couldn't be fought - had anyone ever tried to fight a StarClan cat?

She supposed Thornstar must have, at least - the ShadowClan leader hadn't struck her as the type to do anything at all without a fight. And look where that had gotten her - she certainly hadn't defeated whoever had killed her. Even if they had fought, even if they could be defeated, she wasn't sure she liked the odds.

For now, there was only one course of action: observation. They started out knowing so little about this Righteous Few, these starry strangers whose words dripped blood and honey in the same breath; who promised salvation and condemnation all at once.

Whether they speak for all of StarClan... No one can say but them, so long as the stars are silent.

And I wouldn't trust a honey-soaked word from any one of them.

Willowpaw shook her head in slight disgust. Even though she wouldn’t dare say it out loud, she thought that the Righteous Few were wrong. No cat should neglect other cats in need, no matter the origin, no matter the age. Why were these five StarClan cats so keen on punishing those who did no wrong? Where were the other StarClan cats? As the questions rushed into her head, she let a small sigh escape her.

Eveningpaw was very, very confused. "Mothglow- what?" She watched the spirits, old leaders. Starclan? "Oh... Starclan." She sounded slightly disappointed. "Oh, they're angry." She shuffled her paws, trying to ignore these annoying, dead warriors. "Wait... So are they Starclan or are they some weird, made up name?" She mewed, after listening to these mysterious dead cats and the alive ones.

The StarClan leader's words buzzed around Morningpaw's head like bees, flitting around her but never quite moving in to sting- until they did. Finchstar had- left them? More than once? And the Righteous Few were just here to restore order to the forest--

--for a moment, the apprentice's resolve wavered, Galestar's honeyed words proving far more effective than her starry companions' threats. For a moment, Morningpaw wondered- What if they're right? They're StarClan, after all- who are we to doubt them?

-and then Smokepaw of ShadowClan stepped forward, sharing his bloody, violent truth, his words sharper than any claw, his spirit unbroken despite so much pain, so much anger, and finally, Morningpaw was no longer alone in her conviction-

-and Swansong of SkyClan, measured and reasoned and wise, every word from her mouth an implacable truth shattering the lies of StarClan's chosen, a true warrior in body and in heart, finally speaking out and joining the apprentices in their stand-

-and Batbite of ThunderClan, resigned to her fate but aware of it, shining a light through the clouds on the true, horrible face of these cats that dared call themselves righteous and call for the death and exile of loyal, caring cats with another, finally showing the other Clans the truth-

-and just like that, with a whispered "Thank you," towards the cats who had spoken out alongside her, the apprentice's heart steeled itself, and though Olivestone would hate her if she spoke out just one more time... she didn't need to. Morningpaw had lit the spark, and the fire would spread, she had no doubt about that.

And this was a fire in which the Righteous Few would burn.