May Gathering 2020 [Sitewide Plot Finale]

So...this is how it ends...

Cypressflame's tattered form fell to the ground just as any dying cat would, but instead of the light simply fading from her eyes, everything was.  Starting at her toes, the torbie warrior evaporated into stardust.  It looked peaceful, and to even her own shock, she smiled.  Where was she going, she wondered?  Beyond even the stars, or would she cease to exist to all?  Likely the latter...  She didn't mind though.  She had gotten her wish to die in battle just as she had in life...would Birchpaw be waiting for her in the nothingness?  It made no sense, but then again, when was life easy to understand?

"G-good fight...if only you all weren't such fools..."

In a matter of seconds, she was gone; the only traces of the once great warrior were the marks of her claws.

Cypressflame has been defeated.

---

Before Spiderquill would answer him, something bright caught Ashpaw's eye.  Turning around quickly, the silver-tinged apprentice watched in horror as another wave of starry cats came down from the sky, these ones looking even more powerful than the first.  No...it's all over.  We lost.  His doubt didn't stay long however...green eyes widening, Ashpaw realized that these cats weren't enemies, but allies.  Ghostly claws tore ghostly flesh, and before his eyes, the Righteous Few began to fall one by one.  "D...do you see that Spiderquill?  Or am I dreaming...?"  Jaw gaping, all Ashpaw could do was take in the scene, following stardust with his eyes as it drifted up towards the heavens.

Is this...the real StarClan?

Since her previous encounter with the so-called Righteous Few, Wolffang had seethed and raged from her place among the stars. Her claws were ready but taking them on alone had proven impossible. The power of the stars was matched by those who shared the skies. It was this power they had chosen to abuse over the living clans of the forest. Apparently some of the long-forgotten, dead flea-bags had gotten bored and had nothing better to do than let their brains turn into kit fodder. Her rage and disgust was unmatched by anything she'd every experienced in her life below.

As the gathering progressed, the words thrown hardly met her ears. One thing was on the she-cat's mind: seeing those pieces of fox dung rotting away into nothingness. Other Starclan cat's felt the same. It was only those few maggot-pelts that had broken away from the silent guardianship of the stars. Instead of watching over the clans and seeking to protect them, somehow these self-proclaimed righteous cats found their mission in forcing the living into a well-worn code. Wolffang's own respect for the ways of clan life had been unique and lax, culminating in her flight from Shadowclan. But she had never once lost faith in Starclan, so much so that she stood among them now. The five clans didn't deserve this pain and wrath.

Her claws kneaded the star-speckled clearing, waiting for the seemingly Dark Forest cursed barrier to break, holding them back and then... Galestar. The other Starclanners rushed forward. Wolffang wanted her own revenge upon these badger-breaths but with the many cats writhing around on the battlefield, she determined her chance would come. She would be prepared. As she padded past Galestar, she bared her teeth and continued on. From the edge of the clearing, the former Shadowclan cat took in the wounds of many cats. A pang of sadness broke through the unrelenting anger that had mounted in her chest. Teeth clenched as she watched most of the battle died down, only a few cats still struggling to take down the remaining Righteous Few. Her gaze landed on Leopardstar, who had unsurprisingly thrown himself into the fray already. That tom thought and acted all at once. There was a flicker of a smile before she fixed her gaze on Oakstar. At once she felt as if the full power of Starclan flowed through her.

"Listen here you Righteous Rats!" Wolffang yowled, the call surprisingly strong despite her small stature, "If even one of you tries to stand and fight once more, I'll personally rip your throats out and feed them to the frogs! Your battle is lost. The code you seek to enforce wasn't made for moth-brains like yourself to terrorize innocent cats. I'm sure if you were kits, your mothers would cuff you over the head and ground you for a moon! But since you're not kits but instead grown pieces of foxdung, I'll kill you. I swear, I'll kill you all for the sake of this forest and for every cat who stands for it!"

A cat as bright as the moon appeared in the clearing. His gaze swept across the chaotic clearing. 'For a place of truce, Fourtrees sees more blood than any place I've ever known.' Stars twinkled quietly in his foggy, rather faded pelt. Every place he looked, there was his kin; Ashpaw and Spiderquill supporting each other, the brave revolutionary Morningpaw (who was no longer at death's den, thanks to Cobaltfire), Ploverpuddle and Gustpuddle facing off against Creeksplash that traitor, Stormbringer lingering where Sunspark had once stood, and then there was Ivystar. Dead on the ground. Gentle, graceful pawsteps brought the former RiverClan warrior to her unmoving form.

Ashcloud sat himself beside her, his tiny form hardly hiding her mangled neck from view. Indeed, he was just transparent enough to slightly blur the mess Sunspark had made. He touched his nose to that vicious wound, pouring what energy he had into healing her. This was usually done in the privacy of StarClan, but as was made clear for Flintstar and Morningpaw, desperate times called for desperate measures. Green eyes held shut, he murmured, perhaps to himself, perhaps to Ivystar, if she could hear him. "You must come back, my kit. So many here love you, and so do I, but you must stay a while longer."

When he retreated, doubt and sadness crossed his usually expressionless face. While some of the wound had healed, there was still a hideous gash. Sunspark had not only managed to kill her once, but left something so vicious as to keep her from coming back to the land of the living. 'That fishface better be glad Stormbringer killed him - again - or else I'd rip him to pieces.' His ears laid flat, ashamed that what he did couldn't be enough, that he couldn't prevent the sorrows of his grandchildren. Their hopes dashed in a spray of blood. Ivystar was still dead, and all he'd done was make her a prettier corpse.

When Stembreeze slammed his paws down on the other apprentice, she didn’t get up. She didn’t even move. Snowpaw frantically looked her over from where he stood; with his untrained eyes and the battle’s chaos, he couldn’t discern the slight motion of her chest. An accusation rose in his throat as he spun back around to face Stembreeze. It never made it to his tongue. The starry cat’s eyes were on him. Swallowing hard, he braced his paws against the ground. Batbite, beyond words for now, threw herself at Stembreeze, and Snowpaw took advantage of the opening to scurry to the fallen apprentice’s side.

A calico she-cat appeared out of seemingly nowhere and picked Willowpaw up. Snowpaw rounded on her next, but some far-off part of him hesitated long enough that he realized there were no stars in her fur. Hadn’t he seen her before, anyway? He’d never paid attention to it, but she’d definitely been beneath the Great Rock, where Spiderquill always sat. She vanished with the apprentice; Snowpaw didn’t stop her, nor did he watch long enough to see where she was taking Willowpaw. They were both ThunderClan, anyway. It was probably fine. He turned back in time to see a tall, star-dotted tom throw himself into Stembreeze’s side—and make another introduction. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the leftover fear from looking into Stembreeze’s face and knowing who his next target was, but something about it struck Snowpaw as hilarious. ”S-Snowpaw,” he said, blinking.

---

In truth, Mudfrost hadn’t trusted Galestar. A WindClanner—one count against her. One of the Righteous Few—two. She’d been behind this revolution as much as the other so-called leaders, and though some parts of the living WindClan had made their attempts to convince her, changing a cat’s mind took more than a few pretty words. Or so Mudfrost had thought. Suddenly the barrier came down, and her lack of faith in Galestar no longer mattered. This was the opening she’d been waiting for. She charged alongside her one-time allies, and then the living world’s earth was solid and cold under her paws.

No traces of greencough clung to her pelt. Death had healed her, and sheer resolve made her stronger still. But there was no one left to fight, now. Though she would have loved nothing more than to tear every star out of Sunspark and Vixenstar’s pelts, the former had vanished into the night, and the latter was surrounded so thickly by living cats that Mudfrost had little chance of landing a clean blow. Honeytongue was among them. Mudfrost looked from her to Stormbringer, still standing where Sunspark had fallen. Good for you, she thought, green eyes dimming as she turned back to Ivystar. You avenged her. Ashcloud had healed her wounds as well as he could, but even a kit could tell she was dead. Mudfrost settled beside her once-deputy and friend, wrapping her tail around her paws. The battle was all but won—but until victory was certain and every one of the false leaders had turned to stardust, she would watch.

"Thank you Meadowpaw. I'm Nightwolf" Said Nightwolf to that cat that stepped in and took down Aspenleaf. The good starclan cats were here!

Spotlake wrapped her tail around Morningpaw. Her fighting little kit. She glanced up as more Starclan cats came. And they were good. "Hey Starclan! Take down these rightous few! The ones that hurt my kit!" Spotlake called encouragingly. Hopefully they would win the fight!

In life, she had seen many things. She had been many things… a friend, a mother, a protector, a follower. In the stars, she followed the same philosophies as she had in life. To be kind, gentle and nurturing to all cats, regardless of clan. In the stars, they should have all been one guarding the forest and guiding the lost.

Then the righteous few had to come into play. Few times in Dewshine’s life or death had she felt fury… but now it raged and burned. Blue eyes so tender and caring were bright with anguish and anger as she followed the ginger pelt of her mate into battle. The sight of Dappleshine fighting against Vixenstar spurred her on as she lunged for the fighting she-cat that called herself a leader.

"How dare you kill for such selfish gains… you murdered my granddaughter Vixenstar… and that is one thing I cannot forgive.” Dewshine’s words dropped cold from her silvery muzzle as she launched a furious blow on the she-cats head. Whether she’d end up back in the stars, Dewshine didn’t know. What mattered, is that this was over.

Dewshine used rending front paws!
Vixenstar is down!!

Dewshine:
120/120
275/300 (-25)

Vixenstar:
0/120 HP (-20)
280/300 SP

Beepaw watched in awe as the sky opened up. Warriors with starry pelts sprinkled the air, cascading down to the ground below, materializing in the same way the Righteous Few did. He found himself shrinking back into Oakstar's still-limp pelt. They were surely here to finish what they started! They were running through the clearing to attack everyone Beepaw had ever loved. The forest would fall. ThunderClan, too.

But they didn't. The StarClan cats sounded a battle cry, plowing through the Righteous Ones like they were nothing but saplings, letting the lot of them fade away, disappearing in the quietest of ways. So this was what StarClan really was? They'd come to save them. Flintstar rose to his paws, alive. Beepaw nudged Oakstar's body once more for good measure. His brow furrowed at the thought that he wouldn't return. He looked up. Dustcloud was still wrestling Dawngaze to the ground. She suddenly seemed a lot stronger than he had given her credit for. "We're winning," he whispered. "We're gonna go home."

---

Aspenheart scoffed at the explanation, though he still continued to watch Galestar's process. If it was true that she was helping, then what was it? Why was it taking so long? Aspenheart took a seat and opted to wait. The sound of war was overwhelming, the musk of death and blood thick in the air around him. Who would be left standing when the carnage was over?

Galestar opened her eyes, her task complete. As she led Zinnia and Downpaw into battle, the wily old cat felt a disturbance on some spiritual level of being. He looked to the sky. So that's what it was. The concentration, the willpower, the strength, all in the service of breaking the bonds of living and dead. The rest of StarClan, the ones locked away, the ones Aspenheart was sure wouldn't stand for the acts of the Few... all of them, returning. They raced into battle, dispatching cat after cat after cat, and all around him, Aspenheart could see stars. The clouds were opening again, revealing the bright and beautiful moon. He looked for Softpaw in the haze, and found her at Morningpaw's side as a StarClan cat talked to them.

The she-cat was gone as quickly as she had come, and Aspenheart scurried over in a desperate half-crawl. Olivestone and Clovertwist were among the group, hovering over Morningpaw's body. The apprentice was breathing. Aspenheart tentatively placed his head to her chest and felt her steady heartbeat. The heart of a true warrior. StarClan had come to bring them salvation, and they had breathed life back into little Morningpaw. Aspenheart twisted his head to find Cobaltfire once again. He did not recognize her as anybody he could have known, but she had gifted his clanmate a life. That was something to be thanked for. "I can't believe it. They're here. I never thought I'd see the day that those cryptic rat-headed buggers showed their real faces!" he laughed. There was comfort in near-victory. "Clovertwist, did you see which direction that she-cat-"

A cream-colored coat whistled through the air, making contact on one of the Righteous Ones and freeing Ploverpuddle from a vicious hold. Aspenheart felt a stone drop in his chest, which nearly toppled him, and sent a broken, unsteady stream of tears down his dusty, herb-stained face. "Barleytuft."

Dark paws waited, claws twitching out of the tips. A yellow gaze, narrowed, watched the world below, the scatterings of stars on his pelt ebbing and flowing, glittering in waves with each glimmer of light reflected from the darkened ground below. Stupid rabbit-brains and their plays for power. If he'd been down there, he wouldn't have hesitated to tear their throats out. The wait brought twitches of impatience to his tail, the smell of those around him, also waiting, wafting around him like a breeze.

The darkness rippled, the barrier cracking, a small spark of light splitting it in two. He stood to his paws, lithe limbs uncurling and standing tall, rippling with lean muscle. Cracks spiderwebbed, and shattered with a glitter.

He leaped forwards, glitters on his pelt streaming behind, running smoothly and powerfully, alongside his Clanmates. Touching neatly to the ground, his paws collided with earth, real earth, for the first time since he'd disappeared into the veil of light.

A smile with more than its fair share of tooth curved up his maw, and he inhaled, drawing in the scent of the breeze. The blood tainting it added an unpleasant edge, but still, it was the same air he'd once breathed, flowing through his pelt once more. He took only a moment to take it in, though, before his eyes snapped to a cat nearby. One who'd probably been one of the more annoying cats in this whole thing, so far.

Plus, she was also attempting to gut his friend's mate, and if Raventail had chosen her, she had to be a pretty good cat. From what he'd seen himself, she was, too. But even as he bunched his muscles to leap forward, another StarClanner raked her claws over the shiny pelt, and he snorted, just slightly disappointed.

Eh, there are others.

And then his eyes caught Raventail fighting another one. The haughty rabbit-down who thought he was so right, so great. A gleam of teeth split his face in a smile. Just like old times. There were a couple others already on him, but he'd had never cared about fair odds, anyway. Not when it came to badgers.

"Rabbit-brained idiot. You never did realize, did you?" He called as his paws propelled him forwards, dodging with ease around those still fighting, his movements light and supple. "Even loners can go to StarClan."

He felt the strength underneath his limbs, the stars sparking on his paws and claws as they flashed out. Those words were enough. Some others, for some reason, were wasting their breath on big speeches, but him? Mff. Claws first, big talks later.

Clans knew they'd taken long enough to turn up already. If he'd been down here, he would have been ready to bite through sticks. But then again, if he had been down here, he wouldn't have been strong enough to do anything. Especially not this. It felt good to slash the face of the cat who held the name of what he'd died to.

Limbs light, paws practically dancing, he whipped around from his attack to face him, teeth gleaming. "But you're not."

Murkpaw used Upright Lock, dealing 20 damage and using 25 SP.

Murkpaw
120/120 HP
275/300 SP (-25)

Galestar
120/120 HP
270/300 SP

Raventail
105/105 HP
206/280 SP

Juniperpaw
15/25 HP
71/80 SP

Lionspark
120/120 HP
275/300 SP

Badgerstar
05/120 HP (-20)
280/300 SP

Zinnia
65/65 HP
190/200 SP

Dawngaze took the blows with teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut. Dustcloud and Oakstar's insistence on them being family had been frustrating for a while now and now it was all coming to a head. She swore to herself that she would tear out her dear mother's throat the way she had Oakstar's if she saw the opportunity. For now, however, the fog in her head kept her glued to the ground. The wounds beneath her thick pelt bled freely and colored the grass beneath her red. "You should've known... you should've known...! You knew... who we were..." Dawngaze grunted, pain overhwelming her thoughts.

Dawngaze is no longer stunned.

Dustcloud:
40/105 HP
147/280 SP

Dawngaze:
21/85 HP
169/240 SP

Dustcloud's energy visibly drained from her body with Dawngaze's words, her heart sinking along with it. How in the name of Darkstar had Dustcloud failed so horribly at teaching her daughter self worth? Her maw parted, but she was at a complete loss for words. Slowly, she closed the distance between herself and her daughter. "I... I s-see." Gritting her teeth, she fought back the urge to begin licking Dawngaze's wounds, to call Mossbloom over in panic... Instead, she simply stared at the battered, bleeding she-cat. She could feel the hate radiating off of the she-cat, and see the danger behind her yellow eyes.

"I d-do know wh-who you are, D-Dawngaze... Your h-heritage does n-not define you. Lichenmask m-may have s-sired you, but n-not a drop of the p-p-poison that coursed th-through his v-v-veins runs through y-yours." Drawing closers, Dustcloud intentionally let her guard down. If Dawngaze were to retaliate, she'd do it now, but Dustcloud only kept speaking. "You are y-your own c-creator, your a-actions and words sh-shape who you a-are, and n-nothing else. You've l-let him g-get into your h-head, b-but that's not your f-fault..." Her voice was shaking worse than it ever had as the distance between them grew shorter and shorter with each word. "It's m-mine." Drawing in a shaky breath, Dustcloud sheathed her blood-stained claws. "I sh-should've done b-better, taught y-you that you're m-more important and l-loved than you know... It's m-my fault, D-Dawngaze. I'm s-so, s-so s-s-sorry. I love you." Leaning in close, Dustcloud didn't try to stop the tears from falling onto her cheeks.

Holding in a sob, Dustcloud sunk her teeth into Dawngaze's neck.

Dustcloud used Killing Bite, using -4 Stamina Points. Dawngaze is dead.

Dustcloud:
40/105 HP
143/280 SP

Dawngaze:
Dead

The revolutionary had reached a crossroads in life, in death. No matter how much she tried, she could not stand, could not bring her claws to bear against the enemy, could not stand atop the Great Rock as once she had to yowl inspiring speeches to the masses; no matter what she chose, she was useless to the forest, a burden beyond comprehension-- past the pain, the unending waves breaking against her like tides on a cliff, she was faintly aware of the sounds of battle, the cries of injured cats and the screams of mourning as even more fell beneath the starry-tipped claws of the Righteous Few. Morningpaw had failed. She had failed to save the forest; she had failed to save Finchstar; she had failed to save Ivystar. She had stared into the stars and spat into their faces, and their judgement had been swift and Righteous-- and altogether directed not entirely at her. Morningpaw had roped the whole forest into her foolishness, and the whole forest had paid dearly. A warrior's job was to protect; she had failed. So the first path? Well, the first was simply to let go- to allow the Dark Forest to take her (for she had no illusions about being allowed into StarClan after her open defiance and indirect responsibility for Ivystar's death). It would be simple; it would be easy; and it would be altogether wrong.

The other- to persist, to breathe, to- if not live, then survive. To take another shuddering, sharp breath, her mouth filling with blood with each passing moment, the cobwebs pressed against her wounds as red as deathberries. To listen, and hear what The Dark Forest her actions had brought upon the forest, and to suffer all the more for it; her heart spiked by the knowledge that cats had fought and bled and died because of her ineptitude, that her actions at the last Gathering and then on had directly led to- this. With each passing moment, it became harder to hold on, harder to remain conscious against the overwhelming barrage of agony that wracked through her- but it was down this road which Morningpaw travelled; for why should she be granted the reprieve of death, she thought? Why should she be allowed to let go, to end her torment, when she had subjected the whole forest to such a fate? Mercy was not given freely, but earned-- and to live would be her punishment.

And then- a rush of warmth, a sensation at the back of her mind, a presence, unseen but greatly felt, and a clamoring of voices, new and just and strong; and even without so much as a glimpse of the star-pelted cats that had arrived in the Gathering, Morningpaw knew; for one on the threshold of the stars as she was, she could feel the breeze rush around her as the door opened, the veil lifted, and the true StarClan descended upon the forest. And for just a moment- a terrible, inescapable fear, that these tyrants had come down as reinforcements to lay low her Clan, her friends, her rebellion, that all her actions had been for nothing and that the forest would fall- as they had promised. And then, a gentle touch, her pain ebbing away- at first, her forehead, jagged shards of bone no longer piercing into her, the uncomfortable warmth of her own blood no longer glued to her face; and then it spread, and the apprentice felt- conflicted. If this pain was to be her punishment, then what was this? An undeserved reprieve? And yet, she couldn't find it in herself to object.

Morningpaw could hear, oh-so-faintly, the voice of an unfamiliar cat beside her, talking of her wounds and her shattered mind and healed body-- and she wanted to stand, to live, to fight, to throw herself again and again at the impenetrable wall that was the Righteous Few, bloodied and bruised and sending herself right back to death's den just to save even a single living soul- she wanted to say, I'm okay! Let me fight!, to take up the torch once more and cast herself into the flames along with the Righteous Few just to ensure that they would burn-- but she-
-couldn't. Her heart beat, and her mind thought, and her ears heard; but when she thought to move, it was just that- a thought. Just as before, she was frozen, immobilised and forced into the role of a silent, blind observer as the battle raged on around her- and unlike before, she could not distract herself from the screams and yowls of agony with her own. Perhaps this was her torment, then. To live.

And she thought, though little difference it would make; Thank you, and I'm sorry,-- and for the first time, Morningpaw prayed to StarClan, to the silverpelted, starry cats around her that had arrived to turn the tide of battle, that had sided willingly with the forest and proven their worth; and though for the longest time, she had seen the stars with disgust, with revulsion, even with hatred- now? Now, they were her only hope. So Morningpaw prayed.

Please- help them. Don't let anyone else get hurt. Please.

Dustcloud's stuttered words would have gone in one ear and out the other if Dawngaze had two ears. She stared vacantly at the queen, her mind empty of any thoughts or feelings besides rage and disgust. Had Dustcloud always been a stuttering pool of weakness, or was this a new development? It was irrelevant now. Soon she would have her bearings again, have the strength to lash out with all her power-

But the clarity never came. Her blood loss was severe and her vision blurred more with each step the other she-cat took towards her. Dawngaze hissed as she approached, too dizzy to lash out at the unguarded enemy. It didn't matter. It looked like the fool was approaching to do something motherly or perhaps even affectionate. Dustcloud was trapped in the illusion of familial bond, after all, and Dawngaze doubted she had the power of will to do much more than she already had. That's what she thought, anyway, until Dustcloud lunged forward with a sob, crushing her throat with an unexpected bite.

Dawngaze gasped but failed to take in any air. Instead, all she was able to muster was a horrible shriek that rang around the clearing with all the other sounds of war. 'She's killing me!' was the one coherent thought that echoed in her mind. Despite her flailing and slapping, she was too weak to force Dustcloud to let go. Even though she knew this outcome was likely, Dawngaze was still afraid- terribly, terribly afraid of the coming darkness. She had nothing to say yet she dearly wished she could speak. Her already blurred vision dimmed. Blood filled her lungs and her mouth like water from the flood that swept her away from Duskpaw all those seasons ago. Her shriek died into a gurgle and then ceased with her violent thrashing. Dawngaze lay dead, limbs splayed and mouth fixed in a permanent snarl, against the cold grass that her mother had died on.

Owlstar roared with satisfaction as the clan cats threw themselves at him one by one. They couldn't win. They couldn't. If they brought him down he would just rise again. And again, and again, and again. The starry leader chuckled, baring his teeth at his adversaries, and preparing to move in for the kill, but... a shift, suddenly, in the atmosphere. Owlstar tossed his gaze skyward, eyes widening. "No..." he whispered, "...how?"

His eyes landed on Galestar. "TRAITOR!" he snarled, claws sinking into the ground. "I'll kill you myself."

Before he got the chance to charge, however, Flintstar intercepted him, and then directly after, Cobaltfire descended on him as well. Owlstar yowled angrily, paws darting out to return blows as he received them, but he was outnumbered, and he felt his strength fading as his current life reached the end of its capacity. An enraged growl rumbled in his chest, and he lashed his tail, forcing himself to his full, massive height. "This isn't over," he promised.

And then he was gone.

Owlstar has been defeated.


He never got the chance to go after Snowpaw. As he charged the apprentice, claws outstretched, Swiftstep slammed into Stembreeze. Taken by surprise, he tumbled, yowling, and then came to a stop. His eyes lifted to look at the StarClan cat, and he cracked a smile.

"There's always..." he grunted, "...next time." With another guttural laugh, Stembreeze faded with a breeze.

Stembreeze has been defeated.


As Blossomstep fell, Wolfcall froze. His breath caught in his chest, cold terror filling him from nose to tail. No, no, no, no. She couldn't be... "Blossomstep," he breathed, taking a numb step forward. He distantly registered Scorchstar taking down Whinchatswirl, but that didn't matter to him as he sank down to his belly beside her, pressing his nose into the fur at her neck. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, just breathe," he promised, praying for it to be true. His eyes scanned the clearing, desperate for help, and they landed on Mossbloom as she approached. Wolfcall moved out of the way, hovering behind the medicine cat as she worked on his mate. Please be okay. Please.

With Scorchstar's defeat of Whinchatswirl, Wolfcall is out of combat.

Flintstar watched as Owlstar quickly crumbled under the paws of the StarClan cat, watching as he faded away with almost...Awe. He had not witnessed one of The Righteous Few die, a little surprised to see the leader's form suddenly shatter into thousands of sparkling stars...Before fading like he had never been there. The leader's final words were a promise that it wasn't over, but the ShadowClan leader wasn't so sure. He could accept that death would come for all - but what laid beyond death for one who was already dead? In any case, he doubt these foul cats would haunt StarClan any longer. He sighed, before letting out a soft groan.

He was...Tired. His body ached with the memories of his death, but he knew he still had one thing to do. "Freckleface...Get to safety," he murmured, jerking his head in the direction he had last seen Mothglow. "Everything...Everything is going to be fine," he said quickly, not sure what else to say before he turned and charged across the clearing, his eyes falling onto his murderer. "BRACKENSTAR!" he shouted, his voice booming as he drew closer. His eyes quickly fell upon his siblings who were still fighting, an anger rising in his chest as he saw blood staining Smokepaw's face. "Leave them alone!" he growl, rearing onto his back paws as he brought his claws down onto the StarClan cat's side. "Your plans for ShadowClan are over. Your twisted ideals will fade away with you and your companions."

Flintstar used Rear-up to Slash on Brackenstar, dealing 22 (20 regular +2 from Night Finesse) damage and costing 9 stamina

Flintstar:
60/125 HP
253/300 SP (-9)

Brackenstar:
24/120 HP (-22)
300/300 SP

“No!” Nettlefire shouted as she escaped from under Cypressflame’s grip, whirling around to face her “You don’t get to ask for favors. You don’t get to make a last request. If you wanted any show of sympathy you should’ve thought about that before you came after my friends and my family and my clan.”

Before the she-cat could retaliate with an attack, another cat appeared-- another StarClanner-- and attacked. And her opponent was no more.

Something almost akin to disappointment wormed its way into Nettlefire’s mind as she watched Cypressflame disappear. She had wanted to question her opponent further about what exactly she was implying about what had happened to her father. But, no-- It probably wouldn’t have helped, even if she had been able to ask. It’s not like Nettlefire exactly trusted that whatever the she-cat would say would be truthful and not just some mind game.  

But she trusted it enough that she couldn’t get the thought out of her head.

“Mom?” frantically, she began to search for her mother, hoping she might be able to help her. And she began to search for someone else, too, someone who, given the circumstances, she both did and did not want to find. “Mom? ….Dad?"


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“Thank you for the help,” Addershade said politely to the newly arrived StarClanner, though he eyed them with a gaze of vague suspicion. He wasn’t sure he fully trusted any StarClan cat now, having seen how awful some of them could be. Then again, it’s not like he’d had an overwhelming trust for them-- or anyone else-- in the first place. Nevertheless, he was genuinely grateful that Stembreeze had been taken out before getting the chance to hurt Snowpaw.

The RiverClan warrior immediately turned to his son. He didn’t think he was badly hurt physically, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was okay.

“Snowpaw,” he said, deep concern saturating his voice “Are you alright?”


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Marshcloud watched as Kestrelstorm faded away, and then continued to stare dumbly at the now-empty spot where she had been only moments before.

Did that mean...she was dead? Well, she had already been dead, but now was she...deader? Did that mean she was just...nothingness now?

He tried and failed to wrap his head fully around that thought. The one thing his mind was coherently able to manage was: I killed her

Sure, he hadn’t delivered the fatal blow. He hadn’t even probably delivered very damaging attacks at all. But he’d been one of the ones fighting her, and now she was some form of dead, and in his mind, that meant he was partially responsible. And partial or not, that still meant he was responsible.

There’s a death on my paws now.

The adrenaline of direct combat faded away much more quickly than it had built up, and Marshcloud sat down with a heavy thump, far more exhausted than he had been even before the battle had started.