May Gathering 2020 [Sitewide Plot Finale]

(OOC: If war breaks out while I'm asleep, Down will be defending Zinnia and Ploverpuddle, Storm will most definitely attack either of Dace's killers, Lavender and Vixenstar, or Rainstrike if she sides with them, Ivy and Whin are open to fight any cat, remember, they are the bad guys! Soft will fight only if necessary, healing all the time. Friendly reminder of plus five health and - six SP points for allies, so the living Clans.

Downpaw hissed, fluffing his his as he stepped in front of the two sick cats, refusing to allow them to be injured. His sandy-ginger striped tail lashed back and forth, his lips curled to his muzzle, revealing piercingly sharp white fangs. No harm would come to neither Zinnia nor Ploverpuddle.

Beepaw shrugged a little. Smallbean seemed like a kindly cat, though a bit skittish. Beepaw lengthened his spine and picked up his head.. "Everybody keeps saying it'll be over soon. I'm just praying they're right," he explained to Smallbean. "My clan's a total mess. Nobody can make heads or tails of what's going on, especially after they sent Oakstar away. I get this bad feeling that it'll never end..."

The sudden whistling of wind that covered the clearing made Beepaw's fur prickle. He couldn't help but stand up at the terrible sound, and stagger backward at what emerged from the shadows. Maybe it really will never end. They're going to kill someone, aren't they? The large tom dug his claws into the ground and shut his eyes tight, as if he may wake up from a nightmare. But there was no running away. And he wasn't a kit anymore. But he wasn't a warrior, either. And he certainly wasn't strong enough for this.

Who was he, again?

But Morningpaw began to speak, and something stirred in him. He heard his sister across the way. Somewhere in the darkness, Dacedream's kin cried out. He opened his eyes. Beepaw looked around. He waited patiently, heart drumming deep in his throat.

---

Aspenheart's head cocked to the side at Mossbloom's low remark. Look at them? Look at who? He scanned the clearing and saw one of his own, Morningpaw, conversing with the leaders. Now, that was  sight. He watched carefully as they all nodded along with whatever she had to say. That little rascal had done it. Not one of the leaders seemed at all combative. Could it be, that all five leaders were united... for once? Aspenheart restrained the rolling laughter in his chest.

The look on that stupid, dead ThunderClanner's face made it all worth it. He had a storm coming, alright. Aspenheart stood up, wobbly, but firm. He did not falter. "Brace for impact," he mumbled. "This is going to be big."

Batbite fixed her gaze on the starry-pelted cats as they emerged, listening intently to their words. She had no intention of backing down, no intention of letting the so-small leader of their rebellion come to any harm. But she was as rational as she was furious, and the illness that had plagued her still sapped at her strength. With that in mind, she sat still and silent, waiting for the moment to strike.

It would come in time, she was sure. The Righteous Few's words were honey-sweet, but laced with blood and poison. This wouldn't end peacefully, whatever they had to say.

But Morningpaw spoke first, offering herself as a martyr of sorts. The ThunderClan warrior couldn't believe her ears, couldn't believe one cat could be quite so foolish, would dare to trust in their words for even a moment.

Still, she remained silent, remained still. The time wasn't yet right, and these cats weren't worth wasting words on.

As for the living... Well, Morningpaw had spoken well.
~
Zinnia watched as StarClan spoke, as her Clanmate placed herself on the line. Morningpaw's choices were her own to make, but she couldn't keep the concern from her expression. She wouldn't act until Raventail spoke, she decided, fixing her gaze on the cat who held the role of leader. She would follow him into battle gladly, would defend all of WindClan with everything she had; but not until she knew what they were meant to do.

For now, she leaned lightly against Downpaw for support, saving her strength.
~
Mothglow restrained herself as the Righteous Few made their entrance; the memory of Brackenstar in ShadowClan's camp still made her fur stand on end. She was furious, now - the time for grief and sadness was over, and it took all she had to keep in place. To remember that the rest of the cats here would most likely have need of their medicine cats before the night was through.

Foolish.

That was what these cats were. Foolish to have fallen so far, to have become so dirty. Foolish to resist being set back on the right path. They would pay for that.

Liondawn surveyed these cats. She did not care for them. She did not care for this Morningpaw, who was so determined, with her pretty little words, to act like their mission was misguided.

“You accuse us of not knowing loyalty?” the golden she-cat hissed under her breath. “None of you would know loyalty if it clawed you across the face!”

Yes, thought Liondawn. How utterly, terribly foolish.

Nettlefire had also overheard the conversation taking place. As soon as she heard her name said, she wanted to immediately go down to the others and say yes, yes, of course you have my support. But something held her back. Even though she hated the Righteous Few, and wanted to do everything she could to stop them...did she have the authority to offer ThunderClan’s support? She wasn’t their real leader. Her father was. She was just filling in while he was gone. But he was coming back. He was. Could she speak for her clan?

“But you are their leader right now,” she quietly murmured, her words audible only to herself. “And the Righteous Few are the reason ThunderClan’s rightful leader is no longer in ThunderClan.”

Nettlefire had made up her mind, but before she could act on it, she heard it.

They had appeared.

Every hair on Nettlefire’s pelt stood on end. She felt suddenly like she was suffocating in smoke, like she’d been trapped under that burning tree branch all over again. But the rage running inside her remained cold and sharp as ice.

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Addershade listened to Morningpaw speak with only a fraction of his attention really on her. Sure, he applauded her bravery at standing up to these "Righteous Few"-- he'd never in a million moons be able to do something like that-- and he felt bad that such a young cat was the one having the make the stand against them.

But, in all honesty, she was not his main concern.

Snowpaw. Applefang. Nightwolf. In the suddenness of The Righteous Few's appearance he'd lost track of them. Where were they? He had to find them. He scanned the crowd frantically. What if they got hurt? What if they did something stupid and got hurt? What if they did something stupid and got hurt and it was all his fault because he hadn't been watching close enough?

I will find them. I have to find them. I have to keep them safe. What good am I if I can't keep them safe?

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Maybe a few moons ago Marshcloud would've immediately jumped in on Morningpaw's speech and made his own plea for peace. Peace was, after all, the thing he cared about more than anything. And the Righteous Few represented everything he was against. They were the opposite to all his core values.

But he was in a daze, and the appearance of these cats had not helped. He half thought he was only dreaming. No, no. He didn't think that. He half hoped that. He hoped this entire thing, the entire existence of these angry, hateful cats had just been a horrid nightmare that had overstayed its welcome. He hoped that so much.

But no matter how hard he hoped, this was reality. These cats and their beliefs were real.

Nevertheless, he kept on hoping.

It was clear that Ashpaw was listening to his friend, but the tom's eyes were turned toward the broad stone where the leaders sat, steady gaze fading from its brief flash of anger into a much more unreadable look.  "I agree...but even cowards can do damage, especially when backed into a corner.  Actually, I think they can do more damage than brave cats because, in the end, cowards only care about their own safety.  When you're only fighting for yourself, there's nothing to stop you from doing your worst, and no one there to remind you of the good in the world...if the 'real' StarClan is truly better than the ghosts, then I'll pray to them for victory as well.  However..."  Cutting himself off, Ashpaw seemed to snap back to the present with a flick of his ears, and turned to Willowpaw with a broad smile, closing his eyes.  "Sorry, I won't burden you with my theorizing too, I already did with...Morning...paw?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ashpaw realized that there was a very familiar pelt near the Great Rock as well, but he knew this one was not supposed to be there.  By clanmates...she meant her leader and deputy?  Still, no one else approached them to talk...I wonder what she had to say?  Wait...is she talking to the other leaders too?!  Mouth slightly gaped, Ashpaw watched curiously as Ivystar's mouth moved, along with the bulky tom.  They seemed to be agreeing on something...but what?  Had he not been far off comparing her to Ivystar?  No, but that didn't seem right...could an apprentice hold a role comparable to a leader?  From everything he had heard he didn't think so, but still, she looked so...authoritative.  Tilting his fluffy head, all Ashpaw could do was smile; his respect for the older she-cat was slowly growing.

Wait...when had the sky grown so dark?

Gasping, Ashpaw flipped his head back to look at the moon, pale green eyes dilating quickly.  Clouds were rolling in...however, he had never seen them move so fast in his life.  In a flash the light was gone, leaving only a dim and shadowed landscape alive with the faceless forms of countless cats, all as confused as he was.  This doesn't feel right...   Standing up, he accidentally bumped shoulders with Willowpaw, not realizing how close together they were.  Murmuring an apology, the young tom scanned his surroundings with dangerously narrowed eyes, though there was fear within their depths.  In the glow of the stars, he could still see the stone, though their faces were but unknown blurs now.  The clearing rippled backward, cats taking hurried steps away from the center; however, Ashpaw stayed where he was, the long hair along his spine prickling anxiously as his claws slid out of their sheaths, grabbing onto the earth.  Finally, his view opened up, and he saw them.

The Righteous Few...the vengeful ghosts that haunted barnyards...

They were just as heart-stoppingly terrifying as he thought they would be.

Ears pressed flat against his skull, Ashpaw felt himself unconsciously crouch toward the ground, entire body from his nose to tail-tip shaking like a leaf in the breeze.  Pure terror read on his face like a message in the sand, and though he wanted to back up, put distance between himself and those star-clad demons, he was frozen.  No muscle nor tendon obeyed his whims.  The huge black and white tom, who was only about a few rabbit-lengths away from the edge of the crowd, shook his pelt, and the small gray apprentice jolted as not dander, but mist flew from his body.  The cold feeling wrapped his paws before vanishing, leaving only shivers and the overwhelming feeling of dread.  "T-They're here..."  Even his voice shook.

Then...they called for Morningpaw.

What?!  No, nonononono...  If he had felt frozen before, now he was petrified.  Was this because of what they had talked about, of fighting for peace and justice?  An uprising...he didn't understand!  If they killed her...would it be...?  However, before he could finish the thought in his mind, a strong voice rang out through the cold air.  It was her, she was approaching them of her own volition...and as Morningpaw spoke, Ashpaw finally felt the strength return to his soul.  They were familiar words, many of them from their conversation earlier, but each one seemed to punch him back to his senses, and slowly he regained his control.  Unfolding himself from the near fetal position he had ducked into, Ashpaw listened to the cats around him yell out, defiance and fortitude filling the air around him, and filling his heart.  You made an oath, remember?  You will never back down when faced with an enemy against your clan, no matter if it's beast or blood.  Childish fear has no place here, this is real, and it's time to show the nightmares we're stronger than they think!

Ashpaw took one step forward, far enough to stand out, and yowled;

"I will not let you hurt my family, my clan, or the cats I honor!  Leave, run like the cruel cowards you are, and never come back!"

---

As her paws finally touched upon solid ground once more, the huge tabby-tortoiseshell took a deep breath, savoring the feeling.  It has been far too long since I have walked these grounds...  Lashing her half-gone tail, Cypressflame's shreds of ears flicked back and forth, listening to the blissful sounds of anxiety and desperation coming from the crowd of filth-harborers.  She smiled.  The muscles rippling under her fur in a more powerful manner than they had in life, she halted beside her fellow revolutionaries and waited.  Talon-like claws churning the dirt, she scanned the clearing with eagle-like intimidation, as if she could look through every single cat to the depths of their minds.  She would let the true leaders handle that pesky task of talking and explaining their actions as if these terrified cats needed reminding...she was here to make heads roll.  She had killed many in life, mortally wounded others...watching the terrified tails of rogues bob off into the bushes like rabbits had always brought her joy.  However...she would be fighting clan cats this time, but in her eyes, they were simply husks of the titles they claimed to hold.  No true warrior would embrace an outsider as kin, much less ascend them to the stars.  Oh ThunderClan...you have fallen so far...  She waited for a signal...tonight, the clans would recieve a grim reminder of what true honor really was, and the price they would pay for forgiving the crimes of the sinful.

Briarthorn's fur bristled. Something was happening... He looked up at the sky, his face unable to hide the fear he felt as clouds brewed in the sky. Suddenly, they were here. The righteous few. And they had brought friends. Before, there had been only a handful of StarClan cats. Now, there were many. They called for Morningpaw, saying that no harm would come to her. The fear turned to deturmination and anger. Liar! I know what you plan to do! You're going to kill her, just like Finchstar! Briarthorn marched up to where Morningpaw was, standing next to protectively. "If any of you scum who dare call yourselves StarClan lay a single claw on her, or any of these cats," He said, motioning to the entire gathering, "I will not hesitate to end you! I'll wipe your bloodstains from the stars!" Briarthorn didn't really know if he could "end them", but nothing would stop him from trying.

It took a while for Spottedstar to become interested in what the bold WindClan apprentice was saying. He was rather miffed that the other leaders wouldn't start the Gathering as though they welcomed StarClan's intervention instead of trying to avoid it. It seemed they all had some fairly strong feelings. The SkyClan leader, however, was still reeling from the news that Oakstar was still alive, just in ShadowClan's ranks by force. It was confusing and yet reassuring that he was still around, even if the lowly circumstaces of his birth had been exposed because of it. The ginger leader's attention was nabbed by the low mention of his name alongside Ivystar and Nettlefire. Words like join us and shield them and flanking spilled from Morningpaw's mouth like they belonged there, as though killing a phantom was both feasible and perfectly rational. The other leaders bowed to her demands like grasses in the wind. 'Stars forbid these cats should actually follow the Code for once in their lives. I guess even listening to apprentices plan battles with the sky sounds better than obeying the cats who gave most of them nine lives.' Spottedstar looked down at his deputy and son, Wolfcall, and examined his closed body language as Morningpaw droned on. The father and son duo were in agreement, it seemed, but Spottedstar didn't care what the other clans had planned until SkyClan was mentioned directly. Now that was alarming.

"My clan is not your plaything. I don't know you, kitten, so don't think you can use my warriors for whatever you want." He growled suddenly and loudly, looking down on Morningpaw and the gathered leaders from the Great Rock. Had his warriors and apprentices been present at her rallies? He didn't recall any reports of patrols at odd hours. Spottedstar glared at the other leaders with contempt in his sharp amber eyes. "SkyClan is innocent. Our blood is pure and our warriors are loyal. My job as leader is to protect them, and I won't let them get killed by unstoppable dead leaders who may or may not even show up tonight - especially not for your clans' failures. You should try taking responsibility for yourselves for once instead of trying to get others to clean up your mess." Spottedstar snarled, fur along his spine beginning to rise. The fear of the Righteous Few's wrath was quickly morphing into a rage at the other leaders' density. To think his clan would be punished alongside them for mistakes SkyClan didn't make was insulting and arrogant, and few things made Spottedstar mad quite like feeling controlled by other clans.

Frankly, Spottedstar didn't much like rules, but he respected the innate hierarchy of clan life. It separated them from filthy rogues and pathetic kittypets. Kits yielded to the queens, apprentices obeyed their mentors, warriors reported to their deputy, and at the top, leaders directed their deputies. Above all, StarClan guided leaders through medicine cats. The moment the ancestors stripped a deputy of their life and replaced it with nine more, that new leader became subject to StarClan's will whether they liked it or not. It was like a debt which both grated on Spottedstar's nerves and kept him in line so he didn't go mad with power. Ambition had never been his style, but bending rules and making allowances for himself had been a striking characteristic. He'd worked hard to keep that temptation in check, even if a few lazy days and reckless nights got away from him. Now his loyalty was going to pay off.

Overhead, dark clouds gathered silently but prophetically.

It would pay off. It would all be worth it.

'Crowstar, watch over me. SkyClan first. You told me SkyClan comes first, always.' He prayed as his eyes traced the dimly forming outline of the leaders who'd terrorized them at the last full moon. New figures formed with them, a small but mighty army rearing and ready to do... something. They demanded Morningpaw, and Spottedstar wouldn't object. Instead, he listened to their empty promises and her bold retort. 'Like Finchstar before his death. Too much like him.' The spotted tomcat closed his eyes briefly, picturing Finchstar's last stand and those glittering, smiling eyes. His legs trembled again, this time in anticipation rather than fear. Spottedstar opened his eyes again and lowered his gaze down to Morningpaw, who still monologued at the Righteous Few as though they were listening. Love this and murder that and something about this being a hill they were willing to die on. At this, he snarled loudly and angrily. Morningpaw had no ground to offer his or his clanmates' lives for her arrogance. But she offered her own life in place of everyone else. 'Finally, a little bit of common sense.' Suffice it to say he didn't approve of her rebellion. It was hers and not his.

His gaze traced the crowd, exclusively following SkyClan warriors and apprentices in the crowds. That was it. They were his life - his lives, all nine of them. Or rather eight.

No matter how daunting the thought of explaining Morningpaw’s rebellion to the other leaders in a way that might persuade them to join may have been, Raventail preferred that to having them overhear it. Just as he realized this, he heard the thump of an approaching cat. Flintstar joined their group, looking at them all in turn. Apparently he, too, had been unaware of his Clanmates’ participation…but he approved. ShadowClan stood with them. Ivystar joined them next, resolute as ever as she pledged RiverClan’s support. In that instant, both of them made up for the previous moon’s inaction in full. It wasn’t every Clan; Nettlefire remained silent, Spottedstar denied them with a snarl, and in the Great Rock’s shadow, Wolfcall pulled his ears back as he turned away. It would have to be enough.

Unable (and, honestly, unwilling) to hide the gratitude on his face, Raventail dipped his head to Ivystar and Flintstar with a soft ”thank you” alongside Morningpaw’s. Then he settled down to listen. In every battle he could remember, he’d thrown himself at the enemy until they fell, fled, or brought him down—but cats were clever in ways predators usually weren’t. If they were going to win this battle and keep everyone alive, they’d need a real strategy.

Beyond the Great Oaks, hints of eyes flickered through the shadows. Raventail glanced up to see dark, thick clouds drowning the last sliver of moonlight; from below, an earsplitting yowl heralded the arrival every cat in the clearing had been waiting for. We’re out of time.

Gradually, the Righteous Few emerged. First, they demanded Morningpaw—because of course they knew what she was planning; they’d seen every single infraction against their all-important code, they couldn’t have missed a forest-spanning uprising. But tonight would be different. At the very least, RiverClan and ShadowClan stood with them. Three Clans against five cats—no, ten… As Raventail watched in wide-eyed horror, a sea of star-spotted warriors fanned out behind their leaders. From the beginning, he’d found it easy to lump the majority of StarClan in with the Righteous Few, but this left no doubt; the forest’s warriors were well and truly on their own. A fresh wave of nausea swept over him, rendering him silent. Olivestone and Ivystar had stepped forward to guard Morningpaw, but Morningpaw moved past them and began to speak.

Near the end, her speech took a turn. The words she used were different, but Raventail heard them loud and clear: ”Kill me, and leave my Clan alone.”

The fire Morningpaw had lit burned in his throat. This time, the forest was willing to fight—he was willing. He wouldn’t let history repeat itself. ”Didn’t I just say we were with you?” Though he didn’t have nine lives to prop him up, his voice somehow didn't waver. When he ordered his paws to pull themselves from the ground, they obeyed. Olivestone, solid and cold as her namesake, stood at Morningpaw’s side; Raventail took his place opposite her, his tail lashing out of mingled fear and fury as he fixed his eyes on the Righteous Few—the four of them, though he could’ve sworn five had been there a moment ago. He didn’t dare turn to search the clearing, didn't risk not being brave enough to look back. ”You’re not doing this alone.”

---

Sure enough, the Righteous Few appeared, announcing themselves with a piercing yowl rather than their usual earth-shaking fanfare. But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. There hadn’t been nearly so many of them before. Snowpaw blinked, caught between confusion and fear. RiverClan had nothing to worry about. He and his family had nothing to worry about. That was what mattered. Suddenly, Ivystar placed herself between the WindClan apprentice who’d been talking with the leaders and the starry warrior who’d approached them. With that, RiverClan’s decision—and Snowpaw’s, by extension—had been made. Between the Righteous Few and the first real leader he’d ever known…Snowpaw trusted Ivystar more.

Besides, he was tired of being afraid.

A glance around was all it took to find Applefang. Snowpaw raced to his side, then whirled around to face the Righteous Few. Maybe there wouldn't be a fight—the parts of the WindClan apprentice's speech that he had heard suggested she was trying to stop things before it came to that—but he felt safer here anyway. No matter what happened tonight, they had to stay together.

With Snowpaw and Applefang now side by side, Addershade was immediately able to pick out two of his sons. Without so much as a second thought, he rushed to join them. For once in his life, the dark-pelted tom didn't think about the possible danger he may be getting himself into. He didn't think about how likely his actions were to bring harm to himself, and use that as his metric for how to proceed.

The only thing he was thinking about now was the distance between him and his children and how quickly he could close it.

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Nettlefire took a long, shaky breath in and then breathed out, slowly, as if she were expelling the illusory smoke that felt like it had filled her lungs. She nodded to herself, like she had to confirm her actions before taking them. Nettlefire had always lived somewhere half-way between being cautious and being reckless, but only since these Righteous Few had shown up had she began to show signs of being hesitant.

But no more hesitating. Ever again.

She left her place on the rock, and joined with the group around Morningpaw. She shot a glare of contempt over at the nearby Righteous Few member. Peace would be wonderful. But Nettlefire was ready to fight.


OOC: Nettlefire will probably attack someone nearby, Addershade will attack anyone who attacks one of his children, Marshcloud will likely not attack unless attacked first

Morningpaw's speech was passionate, Lavenderbreeze would give her that. The starry she-cat just watched as the apprentice monologued, attempting to gather more of a force to stand up to them, and flicked her tail as someone else grabbed her attention. Spottedstar was the only leader of the five that had dismissed the rebellion, but she knew that he wasn't as sinless as he pretended to be. However, she simply sat and waited until Morningpaw had finished speaking, and she smiled at the apprentice's efforts.
"Bravo! What a well-worded speech! The offer is tempting, but I'll get back to you in a moment. I have to talk to someone else!"

Fixing Spottedstar in her gaze, she raised her voice and called out, standing and padding ever so slowly across the clearing, each step deliberately drawn out as she paced, speaking to both the SkyClan leader and to the crowd before her.
"Spottedstar! The leader of perfect, pious SkyClan, the only pure Clan in the forest! As pure as your Clan is, I don't think they know that you're not as sinless as you pretend to be!" A wicked grin crossed her face as she glared up at Spottedstar once more. "I seem to recall an... Amberdawn, was it? She was SkyClan's former medicine cat, for the uninitiated! Now, it's not my place to get into the dirty details in front of all of your Clanmates, let alone the other Clans, but, we know." Her grin grew wider as she spoke, eyes flashing with malice. "Let me finish with this, a question for you, dear Spottedstar! Have you ever considered that Amberdawn fled the Clans to escape you?"

Her little call-out complete, she turned and faced Morningpaw once more, the wicked grin as wide as ever as she waited for the rest of the Righteous Few to respond to Morningpaw's little... offer. Personally, Lavenderbreeze knew that she wanted to be the one to take up that offer and to knock some sense into the wayward she-cat.

If ever there were a cat as despicable, as detestable, as disgusting, as Lavenderbreeze, Morningpaw had yet to meet them; and, to her deepest regret, she had, unfortunately, met Lavenderbreeze before. At first, she didn't dignify the starry she-cat's words with a reaction, though a soft growl grew in her throat as she stared down StarClan's most hated representative. It took all the energy she had to hold herself back from snapping an insult towards her nemesis- but no, that would achieve nothing, not at a time like this. Diplomacy was worth far more than name-calling and dung-slinging; so Morningpaw swallowed her hatred, if only for a few moments, and inclined her head slightly as Lavenderbreeze spoke, so condescending and patronising and- oh, she was going to tear out this cat's whiskers-- and she looked up, blinking. Lavenderbreeze had turned her attention not to Morningpaw, not to Raventail or Ivystar, not even to Nettlefire (who she gave a thankful smile to); but to Spottedstar, of all cats- who had just spoken out in the Righteous Few's favor shortly before their arrival. She couldn't blame the leader for his stance; she disagreed, of course, but he was simply doing what SkyClan needed most, even if it was at the expense of the forest as a whole. But as Lavenderbreeze's words echoed through the clearing, ending on that final, piercing note of Amberdawn fled the Clans to escape you, Morningpaw hesitated, turned back to stare up at the figure on the Great Rock, who not a moment ago had seemed so proud, so strong- where had that resolve gone? So she spoke, quiet and subtle, just loud enough for Spottedstar and those nearby to hear. This was the first time she'd heard of any Amberdawns- and she wasn't sure if this would even work... but it was a leap of faith, and cats always did land on their feet.

"I know you're only doing what you see is best for SkyClan," she murmured to the leader, "but this affects us all. Even you, it seems. I know it's not easy, but- is it not better to do what is right?" A pause- and a shot in the dark. "What would Amberdawn have done?"

Something stirred, a sudden shadow, chasing across the moon and softly laying a dark shroud across the faces near him. A prickle ran up his spine, everything suddenly forgotten as his head snapped up, some strange thrill brushing claws through the clearing with a loudness that pierced his ears and head. Ripping through the night, the yowl screamed the opposite of grief.

The call of those who had killed.

Briefly, Minkstream's body locked up, every muscle tensing as his maw parted, a glimmer of needle sharp teeth shining in the sudden darkness. And then his eyes landed on a form, the outline of its starry pelt glowing against the shadows, eyes like chips of a frozen star.

Something rose, like a black tide, quickly flaming to red, flickering white-hot. A snarl burst free of his maw, everyone around him forgotten, everything but them. Red strobed for a moment behind his eyes, red like the blood of Dacedream, and it felt like all his fur spiked up as one of them approached, her teeth bared in a wicked grin. His own flashed back in open snarl as her maw moved, her words, at first faded and ignored, suddenly rushing into clarity with a shock like icy water with a single word, a single name, and he froze.

She...

Dacedream?

The image of a blood-stained, limp form flashed into his memory like lightning.

She killed Dace?

Suddenly, paradoxically, he was aware of the others beside him, though their enraged words quickly fell to the sudden buzzing of a thousand wasps rising in his ears to the rhythm of a fierce pounding. A violent twitch ran through his entire body as this slime-encrusted, many-faced, fox-tongued toad settled next to Dappleshine, and somehow he found himself on his paws, eyes blazing, claws extended to their fullest. His face twisted in a snarl, his hoarse voice barking with the fury of a wounded, enraged fox.

"Stay AWAY from her!"

Every part of him screamed at him to launch at her, to rake his claws down her face, to tear and rend until nothing but bloody shreds were left. But his legs, despite the anger blazing through his entire body like a river of fire, trembled just slightly beneath the sickness still ravaging his body and slowing him down with fever. It was the same as that night, his body too weakened to carry out his commands, even bolstered by all the rage he possessed, couldn't stand up against them.

Seething fury, impotent under the illness that wracked his body, was the only thing he felt in that heartbeat as his voice rang out, a blazing ball of pure hatred. It tightened his chest, lending itself to another feeling, rising up and threatening to burst free. He fought it at first, anything to take away this feeling of weakness, this powerlessness- A thought struck him.

Why not?

The fox-heart's smug smile taunted him, complete and utter arrogance begging to be wiped off with claws. But his claws weren't working. And so he did the only thing his body seemed capable of at that moment, letting the feeling in his lungs burst free with an explosively violent, hacking cough-

Straight into her face.

---

Darkness descended almost before the words had left her mouth, and Swansong glanced up at the sky with alarm, at the billowing clouds reflecting the metaphorical one hanging over the gathering. Before she could even think, a sudden caterwaul split the air, and starry shapes suddenly appeared in the shadows at the edge.

A voice at her side brought her attention off of them with difficulty, and she nodded at the little apprentice, apprehension clouding her eyes as she softly called after, "You as well, Willowpaw. Be safe."

And then movement from the starry pelted cats drew her attention back like a bird frolicking in the leaves. Her pelt bristled involuntarily as one of them moved forward, one of the cats who had spoken at the last gathering, and his first words sent a chill down her spine, bringing to mind the last time one of these monster had asked after a living cat. Would they ask for the murder of an apprentice? As she stared at those starry eyes and that snakelike smile, hearing the words that he hissed about a rebellion she hadn't heard of, she couldn't doubt that they would.

Involuntarily, she cast a glance at Spottedstar, searching his face for any sign that he would resist them, for a signal that would tell his Clan to move. But his posture was stiff, unyielding, like the stone beneath his paws. Something in his face told her that he had resolved not to step forward, not to disobey. And so she stayed where she was, loyalty warring with a desire to defend, watching as some of the other starry cats moved, her eyes flicking to them before coming back to the scene at the rock. Another had moved forward, saying something Swansong couldn't quite catch, and then the apprentice who had spoken at the last gathering called out, her voice unwavering, defiant, yet calm.

And the words that came from her maw - they took her breath away. Swansong found her hesitation melting under those words, the cry of her heart bursting free to agree with this apprentice - wise beyond her moons, braver than many a warrior. Everyone, every cat she had ever met, including herself, was flawed. Not one was without fault, and yet they lived. And yes, they loved. Love - it had always been a part of the Clans, it was what bound them together into these groups they had made. It was what kept them going, what kept them from falling away. In an instant, she saw the error SkyClan had made, Spottedstar had made, in hanging back out of fear. We cannot stand back.

She found herself standing and stepping forward, one cat among many others who had come together out of a love for their Clans, a love for their people and their ways, one cat among others standing. And she listened. She listened as they called out, and she listened as another stepped forward, her mocking voice calling out.

Against Spottedstar himself.

Swansong felt her eyes widen at the she-cat's words, a name she hadn't heard in so long rolling off the star-pelted cat's tongue with a hiss. Amberdawn? She could remember the last time she'd seen the golden molly, pain written across her face as she was forced to reply to Burningsun, and a tail flicking out of camp. Escape him? Why would Amberdawn have every wanted to....

A horrible suspicion crept through her pelt.

No. Surely not.

But as she looked at the cat who had spoken, the suspicion grew, and she glanced at Spottedstar. The tom had kits, and a mate he loved, and yet.... Her head whirled.

Amberdawn fled the Clans to escape you.

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. Had she? Swansong could remember perfectly the circumstances under which she'd left, and Spottedstar had never been indicated anywhere in the molly's demeanor as being the reason why she left. Amberdawn had left because....

"You're wrong." Her soft voice rang out clearly, her blue eyes narrowed into icy slits. They dared try to twist Amberdawn's actions? All to try and expose Spottedstar for something he clearly hadn't done? Her opinion of them dropped to the ground and fell through whatever thin patch of ice had once held it, disappearing into the blackness below. "Amberdawn didn't flee to escape him, she fled to escape cats like you."

She drew herself to her full height, as unimpressive as it was, letting her voice rise, "I remember when Amberdawn left, and I remember how she did. It was because of a she-cat who thought she held the righteousness of StarClan behind her, a molly who demanded the death of her leader because of his actions in the past, actions which we had already forgiven."

"I don't know what your purpose is in bringing this up, I don't know why you've done all that you have. But I do know that if Amberdawn were here, she would not be standing with you!"

Redpaw shivered as the starry cats arrived, with their twisting words and their sharper claws. He made out Swansong’s form and ran to her. No, stop talking. It’ll make things worse on the end, and I can’t lose you... He didn’t have the heart to openly contradict her, so he simply stood there, shivering. Redpaw would’ve preferred to stay alive, but he’d support Swansong if he had to. He didn’t quite understand who Amberdawn was, but did it really matter? This was just another part of their game. Redpaw simply stared at the cat who’d called Spottedstar out, gaze darkening.


Larkflight bristled at Brackenstar. If he laid a single claw on Morningpaw... well, she, Olivestone, and just about the rest of WindClan would fight, she was sure. This was what the meetings had been for; but she hadn’t expected the few to be so prepared.

...then again, Morningpaw had been howling her plans from the great rock. They’d all expected this.