May Gathering 2020 [Sitewide Plot Finale]

Ashpaw finally breathed again as soon as the sad unknown she-cat smiled, warmth written clearly on her weary face.  It was still amazing to him that these clan cats, heralded as savage elite fighters, held the true light of kindness within their eyes.  Visibly relieved by her response, Ashpaw sat down where he was as she came to meet him, patiently looking upward into her green eyes.  They're a similar color to mine...yet very different.  There are more shadows in hers, but not the bad kind.  No...it's like Ivystar's eyes.  They're both responsible for something bigger than themselves.  Every second he spent with this clan cat made him more and more curious about what her answer would be...and he wasn't disappointed.

"A dream?"  Tilting his head a bit, he recalled some of his own sleeping dreams.  Most of them were nonsense or pure fantasy.  Others though were much more...real.  He remembered how the night after the dog attack when he and his siblings had stuffed themselves into the cursed fox den, strange spectral visions had visited him in a dark landscape.  They had looked like his parents in appearance, but not at heart; they had screamed at him, asking why he had let them die so horribly, and why he was doing nothing to help keep Iris and Quail from wasting away.  It wasn't too surprising that he had stayed awake after that.  Was this dream like that one, one that spoke your worst fears?

As she continued, Ashpaw began to doubt that.  So it was a fluffy squirrel kind of dream?  He knew how these ended, but he still sat patiently, watching Morningpaw's serious expression with his head slightly tilted.  How had a prey-catching dream worried her so much?  As the story continued though, he came to understand.  Suddenly much more pensive, Ashpaw's eyes drifted away from her face to the ground, listening intently.  A squirrel dying with dignity?  No, it had to mean more than that.  The poor creature, having to be forced to make that choice.  It's prey, but it's still a living animal, and living things deserve to die having been given a chance to fight for their lives.  I can see why this worried her...  However, before he could say a word, the tabby she-cat continued, and Ashpaw felt every inch of his skin shiver.

"The squirrel...is us?  The clan cats?  For a long moment, Ashpaw was silent.  However, when he opened his mouth it became clear that he understood...all too well.  "I don't know much about these ghosts you call the Righteous Few, or about the Clans in general.  I'm an outsider, RiverClan took me and my siblings in after my parents died from an illness.  The only reason I have to hate them is from what I've heard...but that's reason enough.  Any cat, dead or not, that kills innocent things for no reason other than that they see the world differently from themselves is...horrible.  If we do end up fighting them, fighting g-ghosts, I won't hesitate.  To protect the cats kind enough to take me in, a cat with no outstanding qualities or talents, I'd face any fear and conquer any beast.  That's an oath."

"I understand the squirrel really well.  You see, after my parents passed away I had to escape our old home with my brother and sister, who were both too frail to do much more than follow me.  We hid in Twolegplace, before getting chased away by a dog;"  Ashpaw parted the fur on his left shoulder while he spoke, exposing the mostly hidden bite scar.  "Finally, we hid in a fox den on RiverClan territory.  I knew it was dangerous and wrong, but when you're wasting away - no, watching your loved ones waste away before your eyes, you take risks.  I'm not proud that I stole prey, but in the moment I didn't think I had any other choice.  I was fighting for survival, not for life. "

"In a way...I chose to die with dignity also.  I decided to sneak into RiverClan's camp in order to steal a fish, because there hadn't been any land prey I could catch for days.  I knew, or at least thought, that it was suicide, like that squirrel; but I was more scared of watching my siblings die slowly of starvation, and eventually myself, than being killed trying to do my best for them.  When I got caught, I thought I was already dead...but actually, that was when my life started again.  Jumping off the gorge, as you called it, didn't end well for that squirrel...but for me it did!  I found RiverClan, guardians that love and care about me and my siblings, all the food I could eat, but most of all I found my living dream!  To do my best for the cats I care about, forever.  So, if the clans are the squirrel, maybe they'll find a ledge to climb onto as they fall.  Perhaps, by the efforts of all the wonderful cats who surround them, they'll find the strength to win!  I don't know why you say that it's on you if we lose, because if we fight, it will be because we all took the same risk.  One cat can't carry the weight of everything alone, they'd break!  That's why we have friends and family, cats around us who choose to share our burdens, and catch us when we fall.  I-If you need someone like that...I could help you!"

Ashpaw hadn't realized that, in his introspective enthusiasm, he had leaned quite close to the she-cat's face, and quickly pulled back with an embarrassed laugh.  "Sorry, t-that was, kind of an odd response.  I'm sorry you had a bad dream, if that's all you needed to hear.  Ahh, I'm dumb!  I didn't even introduce myself.  

My name is Ashpaw, of RiverClan."

Streampaw looked over at Ashpaw, who was talking to Morningpaw, the WindClan apprentice. She smirked slightly, rolling her eyes. Guess who has a crush... She thought, her smirk widening. It faded as she thought about the Righteous Few and forbidden relationships. Streampaw cast one last concerned glance at Ashpaw, before sitting down quietly once more.

Morningpaw nodded gently, listening in silence to Ashpaw's words, her tail uncharacteristically still and her kind gaze occasionally switching between the apprentice before her and the moonlit skies above her. The RiverClan apprentice's history explained a lot, Morningpaw thought- like her, Ashpaw had come close to death; like her, Ashpaw had suffered loss; and like her, Ashpaw was an inspiring beacon of light, a stalwart guardian devoted to shielding and motivating those remaining. But just as the wind cannot blow against the breeze, and just as the rain cannot dampen the river, so too were Ashpaw's words ineffective against the she-cat; for Morningpaw had used exactly the same case herself to rally the first cats to her cause, and she was all too familiar with the truth of the matter. Perhaps the apprentice before her was willing to fight for his Clan and the forest, to stain Silverpelt with blood so that peace and love might triumph; but for all Ashpaw's enthusiasm, his comfort was a sparrow on the highest branch- fleeting, fragile, and out of reach.

"Thank you," she meowed after a moment, quiet as the breeze, "but it's not about the dream. The dream is just- my way of rationalising what's about to happen, I suppose. It's not that I don't think we can win. I know we can- because you're right. If we all work together, we can do anything- we can move mountains, topple trees, and tear the silver pelt that looms above us- but that's not the problem." She gave a quiet sigh, her thoughts drifting to the Great Rock upon which the leaders stood, upon which she had delivered her speeches throughout the month, and upon which Finchstar had lost his lives in a single instant, the clearing still carrying the echoes of his bloodless death. He was not the first, and he would not be the last. "The problem is that... no matter what happens, we're not all making it out of here tonight. When the dust settles, we'll be standing- but at what cost? How many more cats need to die in order for this to be over?"

"Maybe we get lucky, and it's only one or two from each Clan- but that's still too many. Maybe it's worth it; maybe it's necessary. All we want is peace- but in order for there to be peace, predators need to be driven out, and that is not without sacrifice. I know every cat here is willing to take that chance, but- it doesn't make things any better when we're standing over the bodies of our elders and holding silent vigil for our six-moon-old apprentices. It could be you, Ashpaw," she continued, her faint smile one of resigned acceptance, not joy. "Or your siblings, or your mentor. It could be someone's mate, someone's parent, someone's child. We are all the squirrel, and we are taking our chances tonight- and you're right, some of us will find a ledge to climb onto. But some of us won't- and that is on me, because I'm the one who caused all this- at the last Gathering, when Finchstar died, that was because I failed to save him; and at this Gathering, when we challenge StarClan, that will be because I failed to find a peaceful solution."

"My name is Morningpaw of WindClan, and all I want is for the Clans to live in peace, even for a few moments. And I am trying," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat for a moment, "so, so hard, to make that happen. And it's not working, and maybe it never will, but I have to keep trying. And- Ashpaw? This might sound stupid, but- I think your parents would be proud of you, seeing who you are today." She gave a gentle smile- sincere, this time, and warm, and after a moment, said quietly; "For them, and for your siblings, and for your Clan, and for the forest- survive tonight. Don't hide, but don't get yourself killed. If you want to help me, then keep yourself safe, and be one less cat I have to fret over."

Rainstrike prowled into Fourtrees behind the rest of ThunderClan. In her moons before the appearances of the Righteous Few, the she-cat's attitude towards the Gatherings had been different: she hated them, hated seeing the clans mingle and blend, the apprentices tainted by out-of-clan friendships and relations. from the very first time they could attend a Gathering. But since being visited by Badgerstar, it had taken a different turn. Now, she looked forward to them.

The atmosphere within Fourtrees was electric. Fear, uncertainty, anger, discord... just a small sample of the emotions that radiated off the gathered cats. They were unsettled, ruffled. Rightfully so.

But not Rainstrike.

As the warrior moved throughout the clearing, her eyes sought out Cedarheart, landing on the brown tabby's form, and for a moment, her detached expression wavered. She hadn't spoken to her former apprentice since she'd dragged Dacedream's body back to ThunderClan. Part of her was reluctant to admit that she cared for the young warrior, but she refused to allow her pride to disavow the promise she'd made to Ferretnose. Even if Cedarheart hated her (which she wasn't sure of either way) she would protect her.

Her ears tilted back against her head as she debated moving to Cedarheart's side, urging her to choose inaction should something happen tonight, but in the end, she didn't move. She sat, turning to stare at the leaders on the rock, but keeping one ear on her charge's location, just in case.

Thankfully, Blizzardpaw had stayed home tonight.

Willowpaw stared at Rainstrike, her friend Blizzardpaw’s mentor. Remembering Dacedream’s doubt and hesitation about Rainstrike being scared of the Righteous Few, she frowned at Rainstrike suspiciously. Her ears flicked back in suspicious and slight nervousness. Dacedream...if you can hear me...I will find out what happened with Rainstrike and your death. Willowpaw vowed, hoping that the StarClan cat could hear her. Blizzardpaw hadn’t arrived today and she was both slightly disappointed and slightly relieved. She could feel that something was about to happen and didn’t want her friend to be caught in the crossfire, especially since Blizzardpaw had saved her from the raccoon by dragging her away from it.

Cedarheart felt her former mentor gazing at her, almost protectively. It had been awkward between them lately. Ever since Dacedream dined, neither of them had really spoken to each other. Cedarheart had her Moonstone and became a warrior, and Rainstrike got a new apprentice. She did miss their training sessions and conversations. They had become friends. But recently, it was as if everything had changed.

Whiskers rattling with a perpetual unease, his pupils snapped to slits. Stepping upon this 'blessed' land, he only felt that cursed raggedness drying his throat. His insides felt parched from the frigid coldness Silverpelt seemed to offer, their ominous silence chilling his spine. Upon entering Fourtrees, his heavy paws felt burdened with a new weight; gravity seemed to amplify, latching onto his limbs and towing him to the ground. Glued, his stomach constricting upon itself, as for a dull moment he could do nothing but leer blankly ahead. Staring at the dismal glow reflecting upon the Great Rock, a muted, flimsy glimmer. Subconsciously, his eyes furrowed in distaste, sneer weaving onto his lips as he raised his gaze to the stars. Amid the inundation, the swamping scents swallowing the clearing... stood one seething apprentice. Glaring fixedly at the gloomy sky, almost as if unashamedly challenging their ancestors. A searing hiss escaped from the corner of his maw, drifting into oblivion, voided by the buzz surrounding him:


It was a shame that Flintstar had to be separated from them. Smokepaw enjoyed his half-brother's soothing aura - it clashed with his ever-churning agitation, putting his soul to fleeting ease. And then, there was Viperpaw and Briarpaw... together, Thornstar's leeches. He held them dear. Perhaps, the thoughts had escalated to be mildly obsessive... but he'd often caught himself swallowed by an adamant instinct to protect. Vivid musings of concern, in flashing realization that anything really, truely, could happen to his family. Under the reign of these cats posing as tyrannical dictators, he knew he couldn't underestimate how far they were willing to trespass into their lives. Then, Redwolf - easily one of the warriors that had earned his rare amity and admiration. He was infinitely appreciative of all the devotion she'd exerted into unconditionally supporting them - and really, he was resolute that she had grown to be a part of their family. And then, there was Goldenpaw. He'd regretted not being able to share any moment with her prior to this evening. That opportunity was yet to arrive; but, he'd observed the bond that she seemed to have forged with both Redwolf and Briarpaw - and so, he regarded her with affinity. Additionally present was a younger she-cat, also resident to ShadowClan; her name was Ebonypaw, he believed, and despite the unfortunate lack of any interaction between them, he offered her a curt nod. The tips of Smokepaw's whiskers quivered in tingling trepidation, but the glaring inferno was quenched as he settled amongst the tight-knit assembly, nudging Viperpaw's fuzzy coat of warmth as his plumy tail draped around her. "Hey."

He had sidled up to perceive the last wisps of Redwolf's statements. A flicker of an acrid smirk weaved into his maw, before vanishing as his expression retained its stoic demeanor. The warrior had reflected his precise perception of this all; she had spoken his exact opinion, in essence. Smokepaw's voice lowered to a dour tone, as he muttered his characteristic resent-traced beliefs, "Those ghosts think they're being ominous... but it's written in the stars. They won't leave this Geathering in peace."

---

Her presence was scarcely welcome anywhere... tonight would not be an exception. Dry satire carved itself onto her face, incising her expression with a bitter sneer. It was a miracle that she'd managed to navigate this far without spitting a single retort in a stranger's face... and even now, her words possessed a bizarre restraint. Slithering to prop herself into the conversation, she squeezed herself, uninvited, until she was comfortably settled by Cherryblossom's side. Her interruption and disrespect was blatant, but her ignorance was unyielding. While she was seemingly now accompanied by several others, she paid little heed to any of them. Pointedly refusing to meet the gazes of the rabbit-stinking tom and sleek, fishy-smelling she-cat - whom she both wrinkled her noses at, anyway - the only other cats who had received any form of acknowledgement were her sister, Minkstream... and Dappleshine. She attentively granted her utmost regard to the WindClan she-cat, initially in silence, yet seeming to survey her in disturbing appraisal. Vixenpaw's 'mawmaw'... she looked so sickly and gaunt - but that was beyond her narrow-minded concern. In blatant disregard to her frail state, her flashing eyes pierced into the warrior's own. Her auburn depths, while neutrally even, had dimmed, subdued, since their last encounter... and that made her wince. Who would've known that so much could happen in one moon... who would've known that Dacedream would have... "She's not here tonight." It was true... for the most appalling, most horror-inducing reason. Sickness? No! This had been murder. Vixenpaw snorted, mild exasperation and biting amusement fluttering in her stomach. Although she had fumed internally at any mere mention of her dear mother... it was concealed both from herself and all others. She offered a hollow smile, venom tainting it to look more like a brittle smirk. Insipid sourness bubbled in her throat, but she dismissively allowed the muted agony to engulf her once more. Vixenpaw merely raised her eyebrows as stinging spurts of laughter rattled her diminutive frame, scarcely escaping her in a jarring brew of snarling purrs. Those menaces, who dared called themselves 'Righteous'... they were so useless. And now that they had ruined her life... she felt so useless. Was it all just... worthless? Was this how she would meet her demise? In a spectacle of helplessness and vulnerability, everything was prone to be perilous - and that newfound weakness was diguised by a dense, deceiving demeanor. She didn't mean to act so blunt and heartless.


Subtly shaking her head, her face distorted as she simpered, the she-cat exchanged a pointed glance with Cherryblossom. She raised a single brow, her stare gravelly purposeful and, in a way, expectant. There was no way she would be the one to directly shatter that light... she'd let Cherryblossom be the bringer of bad news tonight - and what a rare thing that this would be. Drama was imminent either way. Perhaps, she'd let her spiteful tongue have a transient break. Her vague statements should have been enough to suggest the unsuggestable, anyway... and honestly? She couldn't care less. Insensitivity was evident in her beligerent display; the one defining characteristic that had truly remained undeniable. No empathy shimmered in her cold gaze, as she snapped her dull focus back to Dappleshine. It was unfair, really. Why did this have to happen at all? Let this all fade back to the background again... where it belongs. Blinking wearily, Vixenpaw redirected her gaze to the dark canvas shrouding them all in despair. Any twinkling stars couldn't be seen through her obscured vision; she contemptuously tilted her head as she glared at where Silverpelt was fabled to reside. Eyes locked up above, Vixenpaw breathed a dramatically empty sigh and, intended only for those in her close vicinity, rasped a flat, loathing-laced laugh,

---

Ebonypaw was still waiting for an answer from Ashpaw, when another cat nodded at her. Slightly surprised, she nodded back at who she believed was Smokepaw, the grief-stricken apprentice. A lump rose in her throat as she remembered his yowl, his cries of anger demanding Brackenstar to come back down to their own realm. When he had broken down in tears, Ebonypaw could only watch. She wasn’t that old yet, not old enough to know what had happened, but somehow, she felt sympathy for the poor apprentice. He’s strong...I would not have lasted long if someone had killed one of my family members... Ebonypaw thought.

Ashpaw glanced at whoever had called her name. Ebonypaw. Swallowing her sigh, she asked, "What is it?" Why did it have to be Ebonypaw again? She shook her head. If the other apprentice kept bugging her, she was going to unleash her fiery temper on her. She was already pissed at StarClan for harming her clanmates, so her control was weak at best. Add in an annoying ShadowClan apprentice, and she was going to explode.

Softpaw purred as Sqiderquill approached, affectionately headbutting him. "Congrats, Spiderquill! I hope RiverClan recovers fast. Many of our cats have fallen ill. Raventail, Dappleshine, Ploverpuddle, Zinnia..." Her voice quivered, eyes darkening. "I don't know what to do. I've tried everything. I- Sometimes, I... Finchstar would know what to do." She whispered, head down.

Her shoulders shook as she continued speaking, walls down as she let salty drop of liquid fall unto the ground. "I wish Galestar had killed me instead. Finchstar would've found a solution, Aspenheart can take care of healing. I- I miss him so, so much. I-I- I can't do this anymore! I'm sick and tired of it! We've done nothing, nothing wrong! They- They want respect! They think putting fear in hearts will stop us, but they're wrong! We-" She broke off, hunching even further down, looking pitifully small. All her fight was gone. There was no more she could do. How could she carry on, when both Finchstar and Barleytuft were dead? "I should be dead." Softpaw whispered, voice true to her name, looking down at the ground.

It seemed that the little group around Redwolf had grown considerably since she'd settled by Goldenpaw, though she certainly didn't mind. She felt quite honored that Briarpaw, Smokepaw and Viperpaw liked her enough, trusted her enough to seek her for comfort and companionship. She knew that she'd willingly die defending the three of them in a heartbeat, if it came down to it. When Smokepaw joined the slowly growing group, she gave a small smile in greeting and murmured to him,
"Hey, Smokepaw. You're always welcome to stick by me. And if those fox-pelts show their faces, we'll give them the battle of their post-lives, I'm sure of it. They won't escape this time."

---

As cats gathered around the little group that was steadily getting bigger, Cherryblossom almost hadn't expected to feel Vixenpaw settle next to her, especially considering what had happened the last time the both of them had spent a Gathering together. Still, she brushed her tail against her sister's back almost expecting the bark of an order or the whine of a complaint, but she was willing to chance that if she were to provide at least a little bit of comfort. She nodded at Minkstream, who had recovered enough from his illness to show up, and Cherryblossom figured that he'd shown up to tell Dappleshine the same thing she was. However, he didn't say anything, and she assumed he was leaving the task to her, as was Vixenpaw.

Cherryblossom took a deep breath, almost regretting that she'd chosen to be the one to break the news, but she knew it had to be done. "Dappleshine, I have some terrible news." She hesitated before speaking again, forcing herself to continue. "Dacedream is dead. She was killed by StarCl- no, she was killed by the Righteous Few. I... I figured you'd want to know what happened to her."

More cats continued to stream in over the next short while, and the oppressive feeling of anxiety and trepidation grew both around and within Clovertwist as the clearing filled. RiverClan came next, Ivystar's dark tabby head still held tall and proud despite the hardships her Clan had faced at the end of Torrentstar's leadership and the beginning of her own. Clovertwist watched as the RiverClan leader approached Raventail and spoke to him and Flintstar, though he couldn't distinguish what words she must be saying. ThunderClan came next, and much to Clovertwist's surprise and confusion the cat who leaped onto the Great Rock wasn't Flintstar. A sudden jolt of dread struck Clovertwist, and his eyes widened. No - StarClan couldn't have killed another leader, could they? he thought in shock. What in Finchstar's name did Oakstar do? He supposed he would find out soon... or not, depending on what this ThunderClan replacement said.

Clovertwist's eyes fell from the Great Rock at that moment, landing on a familiar-looking tabby she-cat. He realized with a feeling of relief and warmth that the she-cat was the same ThunderClan cat who had spoken at Morningpaw's last meeting. He hadn't caught her name, but her mild joke had stuck out among other things. She had an inviting look on her face despite the threat that loomed over them, and Clovertwist found himself standing and moving over to her side. "Hey there - is this spot taken?" he asked her, smiling politely. He wondered if she would recognize him; he hadn't spoken up. "My name's Clovertwist."

ooc; Clovertwist is speaking to Cedarheart!

Cedarheart’s gaze towards Rainstrike was broken as the Windclan tom introduced himeself. ”No, it’s fine.” she mewed. Some company would be nice. As she recognized him, her voice dropped to a quieter tone. ”You were at that gathering, weren’t you?” The brown tabby’s voice soon came back up louder. ”Nice to meet you. I’m Cedarheart.” she said, her green eyes glowing pleasantly.

Clovertwist was pleased that the she-cat welcomed his arrival politely, and even more pleased when he saw the spark of recognition cross her face. He felt a small thrill of excitement, like an apprentice on their first solo hunt. The WindClan tom sat himself comfortably beside her and nodded a little in confirmation of her whispered question. The ThunderClan cat introduced herself, and Clovertwist tucked his kinked tail around himself as tightly as he could and dipped his head, purring, "The pleasure's mine. Thanks for letting me sit with you, Cedarheart." Clovertwist looked around briefly, feeling concerned at how many cats were mumbling among themselves instead of cheerily mingling as usual. He commented, "It's really tense. You could cut these nerves with a claw. I thought maybe you could use a little company - I sure could." He chuckled slightly despite the truth of the words.

Cedarheart smiled. He was actually very nice! ”There’s a lot going on..” she mewed in agreement. ”It’s nice to have someone to talk too.” she giggled a little bit. ”It’s been like this in Thunderclan for a while now...pretty much since the gathering.” Everyone had been so nervous, then the plague had happened. She hoped it would all be over soon.