July Gathering 2020

A familiar voice cut through the chatter, and Beecloud twisted his head around to follow the sound. He latched on to two mismatched eyes, belonging to the very cat he had been thinking about. He felt a chuckle bubble up, warm and low, from deep in his belly as the snow-white tom danced around an awkward apology. Beecloud patted the ground across from him, inviting the other forward to sit with him. "Are all RiverClan cats this proud?" he purred. "I hope you gave your medicine cat a good story to go with those cuts. You didn't seem too happy about the real version." He finished his tease with a wink, vaguely aware of his left claws digging into the flesh of his right paw. His desperate bids to simply ignore his anxiety when it arose were often in vain, and this case was no exception. His back paws tip-tapped the ground as he swallowed, curling his long, thick tail around his body in a tight hug. Something about this tom in particular made him feel like his body was on fire.

"My name is Beecloud, he explained, the lisp from his teeth's odd placement sticking out. "Like the insect. Don't know what about me is beelike, but my mother is half-blind anyway, so I blame her. Who are you?"

Cedarheart turned as she heard the speak of an unfamiliar cat. “Hi! It’s completely alright. I’m Cedarheart, of Thunderclan.” she introduced herself to the warrior and apprentice. ”I have an apprentice too.” she grinned. ”His name is Quailpaw. Its nice to meet you two.” her green eyes glowed happily.

Despite his wishes to remain unnoticed, Wrenspring and Swansong started to chat with him. Why couldn’t he be left alone for once? Why had Spottedstar chose him anyway? Sighing slightly, he turned, pricking his ears as Wrenspring spoke. He missed the look of apology from his friend and took the words as aimless talk. Swansong chimed in, and Redfall leaned back slightly. He hated this sort of... small talk. “I mean... yeah, it’d be cooler, but which river? It’s not like we’d want everyone to discover what our territory looks like.”

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Emberspark grinned, bumping his friend’s shoulder happily. “Nice name.” He broke off as Mistpaw stuttered out a long string of words, and he laid his tail on her shoulder gently. “Hey, you don’t need to be so nervous. I’m pretty sure this Gathering won’t be like the last few.” Although he laughed it off, his eyes were dark. He was glad he hadn’t been chosen to go to that Gathering, but he’d heard about it- everyone had. “As for Greenleaf... this weather hasn’t been great. Too hot. You guys probably get it worse, because we tend to operate during the night and sleep during the day, and our territory is pretty shadowed by all the pines. How about you?”

"Oh riverclan is doing well in this heat. I'm not doing well in this heat though." Said Nightwolf, swishing his tail.

Green eyes turned towards Haypaw as soon as she spoke to him. He didn't know what to make of the she-cat standing before him. The tall lanky tom didn't break his hardened look, but honestly he was nervous to interact with the other clan cat. "I'm Batpaw." He said despite her not finishing her sentence. He could see her eyes looking at the fangs that stuck out from his mouth. Not that he minded her look at his appearance. "From Shadowclan." He added if she already couldn't tell by his scent.

Haypaw's ears perked as the apprentice introduced himself, a bit relieved even if his expression didn't break from its harden edge. He didn't brush her off and she could work with that! "Oh, that is a nice name!" she meowed as she took a seat, studying the lanky tom before she paused as he mentioned that he was from ShadowClan. "Oh, ShadowClan huh? ShadowClan...ShadowClan..." she ran the name through her head a few times, making sure she was thinking of the right Clan. That was...Near where she had been found, wasn't it? She was pretty sure she had heard that their border was the Thunderpath but she hadn't quite found the courage to return to that area yet."Oh, right! You guys live in a...Marsh, right? Not that I actually know what that means, I just know the moor - actually, what is a marsh? It sounds...Weird, whatever it is. But I guess it took a while for me to get used to how open the moor is but I don't know if I would have adapted any better to whatever a marsh is. But the moor is nice and I do really like the wind that blows along the moor, its feels nice in my pelt." She drifted off for a couple of seconds before she jolted. "Oh! I'm from WindClan. I...Uh, guess that would have been obvious from all of my moor talk, sorry."

When nobody responded, Flamepaw shrugged and trotted off in the direction of Beecloud. Gazing at her mentor, she swished her ginger tail and smiled. "This place is so cool!" She mewed cheerfully. Flicking an ear, she sat and licked her paw, running it over one of her tufted ears.

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The dark apprentice looked up at his mentor and at the ThunderClan cat shyly. He waved his tail in a friendly greeting before shuffling his paws a bit timidly. Hopefully nobody asked him a question, so he wouldn't have to respond. Shadepaw glanced around at all of the cats around him, constantly swiveling his ears to focus on one thing at a time. Suddenly, he flinched as the noises got louder. Almost whimpering, he crouched a bit and flattened his ears, trying to glance away from his mentor and the ThunderClan cat so they wouldn't see his frightened expression. Trying to relax, he tilted his ears again and sat half-way up.

As Swansong padded over, he felt his pelt prickle slightly and his tail flickered. But her cool reply and warm smile quickly melted away any conflicting thoughts. They were simply clanmates at a gathering, enjoying each other's company. The decisions that divided them sat, here, but moons ago and in the past. Tonight doubts would be shaded underneath the broad branches of fourtrees. Other clans were the strangers; these cats were clan and kin. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to let the thick and warm air soothe his lungs in possible way that it could.

Redfall's response, and posture, further displayed his lack of will to speak. Wrenspring's gaze shifted to the throng of cats before them. It wasn't a particularly abrasive response but his denmate didn't seem to friendly either. However, there was a point to his words. Wrenspring hummed for a moment, flicking his tongue roughly against the roof of his maw as he pondered, "Well, maybe the Riverclan river? We all know where it is anyways. Besides, plenty of water and fish. That certainly wouldn't be a bad gathering. I don't really know what fish tastes like, though, it could be pretty bad."

Bloodstrike listened to Mistpaw speak, saw that she cringed over her own words and his eyes flicked to Emberspark. If he had been anything but nice and encouraging, Bloodstrike would have had a lot to say about it. Luckily he was gentle with her, so Bloodstrike smiled a bit and relaxed. His father nudged him and he turned to look, his eyes soft.

"Behave? Well... there goes my plans for this evening..." He said sarcastically and gave Emberspark and Mistpaw a wink. He was maybe one of the few warriors that could be sarcastic toward the deputy, as he was his father. Still, he knew not to push it too far.

"Yeah it's definitely been.... uncomfortably warm. I think I am learning how to handle it but it's been rough."

Mossbloom followed behind the rest of ThunderClan, paw steps shaky but solid as she made her way into the clearing and then towards the other medicine cats. She still had a cough, but it wasn't all that terrible now, bothering her mainly in the coolness that accompanied the moonrise. She shivered, her body still far leaner than usual, her pelt still hanging a little loosely off of her, but she felt better than she had for several sunhighs now. As she settled in for the Gathering, taking care to maintain a little more distance than usual from her companions, just in case, she set to surveying the clearing around her. It seemed so different from the last Gathering she had attended, the tension that had been so palpable was no longer present, and there was no changes in the clan's leaderships. A quiet, rough purr rumbled in her chest as she looked around to her fellow healers, greeting them with a smile and a nod.

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Dappleshine ached. Her body, her mind, her heart, all ached. Haypaw had done wonders in keeping her from being too distracted during the day, but as she made her way towards Fourtrees each step felt heavier than the last. The lump in her throat rose, and as she settled on the farthest edge of the clearing she turned her face to the ground, terrified of what would happen if she saw the spot where she had battled that horrid Vixenstar. Her lips rose in a silent snarl as she thought of the name of the foxheart that had murdered her daughter, before a tear landing between her paws caused her shoulders to slump forward. Dacedream was still gone, and nothing she did would be able to bring her back. With a sigh, she stretched out onto the ground, placing her head on her paws and turning her eyes up to her mate. Hopefully this Gathering wouldn't last too long.

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Blossomstep walked alongside SkyClan as they joined the other clans in the clearing of Fourtrees. Casting a quick glance around, she settled in the middle of the rest of SkyClan, counting out her kits that had come. She smiled as she saw Wolfcall pad up to Bloodstrike and Mistpaw, but as her mate continued up towards the Greatrock she scuffled a paw in the dirt. Wolfcall and her hadn't had much time to spend with each other recently, and part of that was her own recovery from the kitting and getting back to the routine of a warrior. Sighing softly, she waited for the Gathering to begin, settling herself in with the idea that on the way home she would invite him to go hunting with her again.

Inexplicably, a chuckle rose from the other tom. Snowflight stared. Is he…laughing at me? He hadn’t let himself think as far ahead as the tom’s reaction, but the part of him that had dug up the guilt and latched on had braced for anger or dismissal. This was neither. He didn’t know what to do with it any more than he knew what to do with the tom’s next gesture. When his gaze drifted downward, it stuck on a set of oversized paws. Before he could think of what to say (another halfway-there apology, probably), the ThunderClanner had mercy on him and spoke, friendly and familiar. Snowflight wasn’t a…well, maybe he was a bit of a vole-brain tonight, but he knew an invitation when he saw one. A hint of a sigh hung in his voice. ”It didn’t work. Spiderquill knows me too well.” He closed the distance in a few careful strides and sat where the ThunderClanner had indicated, holding his head at the usual angle and his chin high in defiance of the faint burning in his ears. After a moment, his tail curled around to hide the bite marks.

Without blood and adrenaline obscuring his vision, the ThunderClanner—Beecloud—didn’t look so much like an enemy anymore. In fact, he looked…nervous. That made two of them. The pointed stones that had sat in Snowflight’s gut for the last few sunups shifted, jabbing in different ways. ”Well, she got one thing right,” he said, flashing Beecloud an uncertain smile. ”You are pretty stripy. I’m Snowflight—you can probably guess where that came from.” His paws shuffled against the dirt. Shooting them a frown as if they belonged to someone else, he pressed them together until they were still, then returned to surveying Beecloud. If apologizing was out, he could at least say this. ”You’re not wrong about us being proud, but…I did want to say thank you. So, thanks. You saved my pelt.” Most of it, anyway.

Beecloud snorted gleefully at Snowflight's stripe comment, lips peeling away from his odd teeth as he laughed. He took a moment to observe the RiverClan tom in more detail, noticing the luster of his stark white fur and the lankiness underneath his pelt. Snowflight was shorter than himself, as most cats were, but not small. His gentle "thank you" ignited a little fire in Beecloud's stomach, and the warrior purred graciously, bowing his head with bashfully hot ears. He had a few choices to make. Would he redirect the thanks, make a quip about not letting a predator just wander off? Would he shut down the gratitude, insist that it was Snowflight's battle too? Beecloud's teeth shifted in his mouth as he lifted his head. "You're welcome," he mewed, simply, a smile flickering softly across his features. His amber eyes gleamed with something more than dreamy fog.

Snowflight's expressions varied in the muddy middle ground between indigence and embarrassment, an impenetrable that Beecloud could not breach. He was grasping at straw, looking for an opening, ambitious enough to look for a way to talk to Snowflight in a meaningful way. Being such an open cat himself, it frustrated him to watch as the white tom skirted around small talk. He wanted in, he wanted the depth, he wanted the connection from one cat to another. One of the great pitfalls of Gatherings... there was never enough time for it. "Is your head okay? I was actually really worried when you... uh... threw me out of your territory, heh."

Firepaw had immediately decided she didn't like Gatherings one bit. Too loud, too crowded, too much- cats from five different clans, their scents intermingling and striking her nose like a fox's claws; noises overlapping and merging together as one great hubbub of mews and purrs and whatever was going on here-- oh, she should've seen this coming, she really should've seen this coming- it was like SkyClan's camp but a hundred times worse-- and she'd have to come here every moon from now on, should she fake a sickness and go back?- no, ten different medicine cats would see through that far too easily-

-and Firepaw stopped, and did exactly what she did best: pushed her heart aside and engaged her mind instead. Her amber eyes flickered around like wildfire, taking in the environment and analysing her surroundings for any potential escape routes. Just like she always did, but this time with a little more necessity. She needed to hear the Great Rock, of course- that was the interesting part of the Gathering, not the hundred-or-more strangers gossiping about the weather- so retreating through the undergrowth and making her way back to camp wasn't an option. Nor was hiding with the rest of SkyClan, for even though her Clan meant safety, Firepaw refused to let them see this side of her. She had an image to uphold, after all.

So- the trees? The trees. Four great oaks, towering over the clearing, with branches just high enough to escape the chaos of the Gathering but low enough to hear-- perfect. Any other cat from any other Clan might've given up on the idea, but her whole Clan's hunting technique was built upon climbing trees-- so if anyone asked, she could just tell them she was practicing. And with that, Firepaw murmured a quiet, "I'll be back," to nobody in particular, then made a beeline for the nearest Great Oak, her claws digging into the bark and carrying her up at frightening speeds, more reminiscent of a squirrel than a cat. So there she sat, high above even the Great Rock, curled up on a thick oak branch and staring down into the clearing below; watching, waiting, as always.

(Firepaw is available to talk to - if you can see her, that is!)

Smokepaw stifled a hiss of annoyance. Why did it have to be so miserably hot, even at night? Her thick fur didn't help in making her feel comfortable, and the air hung hot and humid as the cats entered Fourtrees.

Already, the air felt different than the last gathering Smokepaw had attended. That tension had frozen Smokepaw's tongue with unease at the last gathering, but she was no longer a fresh-faced apprentice who was frozen at the sight of other cats, either.

Distractedly, Smokepaw twitched an ear in acknowledgement of Firepaw's soft murmur, then began to idly scan the crowd, not really expecting to find familiar faces among the other clans. Had Skyclan been the last to arrive? Though their arrival certainly seemed to be more timely this time around, as she could make out other cats filtering in from their own territories still.

Smokepaw is open to talk.

What was a marsh? How did she not know? He was a little confused by her constant rambling about the moor and the marsh. Green eyes remained on her smaller form, as he waited patiently for her to be done talking. Batpaw could understand that she was Windclan from her talk of the territory, but he didn't feel the need to add that fact. He heard enough stories and retellings from the elders and Mothglow to know it was Windclan even if he hadn't been outside of Shadowclan territory before.

"The marsh is like.. grass and mud, and the ground is constantly wet in some spots." He told the Windclan apprentice, realizing at this moment that he didn't know how to fully describe their territory. "There are some parts of it that are more water than anything and its hard to walk through it because the water can get too deep." He didn't really know what else to say to Haypaw. He hoped this would satisfy her.