Turn Me into Ashes [open for SkyClan]

Spottedstar trudged through the empty streets, his long tail dragging in the dust behind him. Each breath was heavy and the blockage in his lungs was quite audible, as painful as it was disgusting. Soot covered his front paws up to his elbows and thinly coated his chest and muzzle. A few streaks of ash dotted his pelt on the sides from stumbling against burnt trees until there were no trees left to lean against. The leader had come a very, very long way; the sun was setting behind the rows of broken down twoleg nests. 'Am I even in the right place?' His tired mind asked as he raised his dark eyes to take in his surroundings. It seemed familiar. The only thing missing was the soft, pale coat of his mother. 'Of course she isn't here. I must really be losing it.'

Coming into the twolegplace had been a last resort. After spending so long in the burning sun burying the bodies of Mistrain and Murkpelt, Spottedstar had gone to the river expecting to see the rest of his Clan safely tucked into some protected green space where the river had stopped the fire. Instead, there was no river, there was no SkyClan, and there were no signs of a fire that had stopped. Instead, burn marks and distant smoke past the dry riverbed told Spottedstar that it had continued into RiverClan territory. It wouldn't have been safe for SkyClan to keep going. Only his own thoughts echoing his mother's words had reminded him of the odd dream: "You need to find them." It was urgent. It had seemed almost normal in the moment, but with Spottedstar's ever-deepening grief and an entire Clan lost with no trace in the ashes to tell him where they'd gone, it began to feel like a prophecy. But it had all been complete nonsense! Highstones had been right there, next to the dens, despite the fact that they were far, far away in reality. Firflower had been there, too, but she was dead. And Arno and Marmalade... but Spottedstar didn't know if they were dead or not. They hadn't even seen him. Only Scorchbranch had said anything, but why had he even been there in the first place? His deaf mother spoke to him! The more the lost leader thought about it, the less he wanted to keep thinking. So he didn't think at all as he soldiered on. He was convinced now that he'd let some desperate dream convince him to abandon his home.

The aches in his limbs and the raging fire in his lungs pulled his mind back to the present. A particular den caught his attention: the very one that Firflower had led him to look into in the dream. Although in the dream it had been just like any other twoleg nest, in reality it was dilapidated with parts of its wall missing and with large gaps in the roof. His paws moved towards it automatically. He knew that he wouldn't find what he was looking for, but he wanted it so badly he could almost taste the scent of his long-gone friends on the stale air. Peering through the window that Firflower had shown him revealed everything he expected: nothing. In Arno and Marmalade's place was rubbish and piles of nest material from the roof. The sun was nearly gone in the distance. Spottedstar had grown tired quite a while ago, but determination to see through his last option at finding SkyClan kept him walking. How long would he be able to go on? Was there even a use in going on anymore?

Firflower had taken him farther in the dream. She would never deceive him, although Spottedstar wasn't fully convinced that it was her. Still... he wanted SkyClan more than he wanted to be right, especially considering being right meant being lost in Twolegplace with what could possibly be a lung infection and the threat of danger around every corner for no good reason. So, with a grunt of effort and a loud cough, the tomcat jumped down from the window's ledge and carried on through the street with absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever. One of these alleyways would shelter his Clan. One of these nests would be their refuge.

Dawnpaw was becoming more like his father as days went on. He carried himself taller and stepped with more confidence. Confidence, not arrogance. He and Beechpaw had had to fight together only days ago against a lone she-cat, deformed and grotesque looking. It had been a huge turning point in their relationship, with Dawnpaw realizing that although his family may bicker sometimes, he loved all of them. He would have died for Beechpaw on the spot if the situation called for it. No regrets. He was out looking for prey, which had been full of disappointing things such as mice and lizards. He would kill for a quail right now.

All thoughts of Spottedstar and those left behind had been pushed so far out of Dawnpaw's mind that in a month or two, he would have forgotten what they even looked like. His clan needed him now. For once, he had pushed aside all of his child foolishness and tried to be the strong, responsible tom that his father had been at one point. Bloodstrike was doing his best to hide the pain that the flames inflicted upon his body as well as the war that waged inside his heart and his head over not being able to save anyone else. He'd saved Adderpaw and he'd saved Wolfcall. To Dawnpaw, that was more than a valiant accomplishment. Not everyone could be saved, but he saved one of his sisters and he saved the next leader of Skyclan. Was that not something to be proud of?

A smoky scent hit Dawnpaw's nose that was... more familiar than smoke should be. He halted in his confusion, and smelled the air slower with a parted maw to pick up what it was that set his senses off. Cat... but... familiar cat? Dawnpaw lowered himself into a smooth crouch and began to creep after the trail. I should know who this is... I think. He slipped silently around corner after corner of each twoleg nest, finally coming to linger at a window. The scent was stronger now... strong enough that Dawnpaw could finally place a face... sort of... for this scent.

Great Starclan... Spottedstar is alive.... Dawnpaw hurried after the scent trail that Spottedstar's burnt being had left behind. It took no time at all for Dawnpaw to find the old Skyclan leader and he padded after him, purposely letting his paw pads tap on the cobblestone to make noise and hopefully not startle the clan leader too much.

"Well well leader... you've certainly looked better." Dawnpaw called to him softly, but he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He picked up the pace, now that he had announced himself. The clan had been through a lot. The formalities were normal, but the clan had been through something that was absolutely not normal. Dawnpaw had spent only a bit of time with Spottedstar, but the little time they did spend... Dawnpaw found himself at least somewhat liking the old guy. And being Spottedstar's great grandson... Dawnpaw fearlessly trotted up to Spottedstar and gave him an affectionate headbutt to the shoulder. Purring followed suit.

"We thought you were gone." He said simply, but the smile on his face and the softness in his eyes were plain as day. "The clan has been taking refuge here. How did you know where to find us?" He asked seriously. He had noticed the absence of both Mistrain and Murkpelt, something that his brain decided not to linger on. A swift striking panic attack came as quickly as Dawnpaw forced it out of him. He knew.... in the back of his mind he knew what was about to transpire once Spottedstar got to the rest of the clan.

Dawnpaw just hoped that his father would not... snap.

Beechpaw had been out hunting as well. Sagelight and her parents probably wouldn't have been too thrilled, but someone had to and Smokefeather had been too exhausted to protest. She was clearly at her limit, and had been ordered to rest. Beechpaw knew her mother was furious about it, but her resting was better than her running herself into the grave from exhaustion.

She'd been out for hours now, and all she had to show for it was a single mouse. All that effort, and no birds, no squirrels, not even a rabbit. She didn't want to show up back in camp with one measly piece of prey, but it was all she'd been able to find. And if that rogue was still around... The twinge in her chest warned her that sticking around to find out was monumentally stupid. And hadn't Smokefeather mentioned fighting a raccoon the other day with Dustpaw? The wounds were mostly covered by the way she'd smoothed the fur over her chest, but they hurt, and Beechpaw wasn't moving as quickly as she normally did. If there were enemies around, they'd pick up on that, she was sure of it.

Yes, best to just get back to camp in one piece.

The scent of smoke hit her nose as she walked, and Beechpaw stumbled to a stop, coughing. The smell was enough to have images of the fire running through her mind, and it was a moment before Beechpaw realized that there was no fire, just a fresh scent trail... That also smelled vaguely of Skyclan. Blinking, the apprentice decided to follow it. Maybe it was one of their missing clanmates. She knew Bloodstrike was borderline insane with worry already, if it happened to be Mistrain that would at least take a weight off of his shoulders. Beechpaw knew he was trying to hide how bad things were, but she simply wasn't buying it. He'd looked awful when they'd gone herb hunting with Sagelight, the dark tom hardly reacted to much of anything now. He hardly spoke, hardly ate... And Beechpaw worried.

Following the scent of smoke and clan, a dirty, disheveled tom eventually came into view... And so did Dawnpaw. He'd probably saved her neck from that rogue they had fought, and since then they hadn't argued at all. It felt odd but after that and everything else, their fighting with each other truly had been petty and childish. They'd actually gotten along and hadn't argued since which felt odd, yet also refreshing.

Forgetting about the single mouse she carried, Beechapw approached warily, taking note of the already in-progress conversation. So this was Spottedstar? She'd never spoken to their leader before, had only caught glimpses around camp once or twice. She gave her brother a tight smile, before turning her gaze to Spottedstar's soot-stained form.

"How did you even survive? By the time I made it out with Sagelight..." Beechpaw gave herself a shake, unwilling to finish the thought. She'd turned her head to watch the flames periodically as the clan had made their way to the river, unable to look away from the flames consuming Skyclan's forest.

She wanted to ask about Mistrain and the other missing cats, but was hesitant. She'd seen their camp engulfed. Spottedstar had survived, but he was a leader. He had lives to spare that other cats didn't. If they had died... Beechpaw had a sinking feeling in her gut that things were not going to be pretty.

His ears swiveled backwards as Dawnpaw's steps came into audible range. The fur rose along Spottedstar's spine, but it flattened once more when he turned his head and recognized the pale apprentice. He exhaled a deep sigh of relief that was quickly cut off by a sharp cough. As happy as he was to have a sign of his Clan, his own state was poor. There were bound to be injured and unwell cats in SkyClan, wherever they may be. "I've felt better." He responded simply, voice cracking with the effort of his meow. Spottedstar swiped Dawnpaw's forehead with his dry tongue. "I didn't. I was following a... a random thought I had." Even leaders didn't get prophetic visions. That was Sagelight's job. 'Sagelight... I hope he's okay.' Spottedstar wanted to see his brother badly; there was bad news to tell and grief to share.

Speaking of the medicine cat... an apprentice-aged she-cat soon followed after Dawnpaw. Spottedstar recognized her as Beechpaw, the one that his brother had pointed out as StarClan's choice for his apprentice. He hadn't formed much of an opinion of her except that he hoped she would stay true to SkyClan, unlike at least three other medicine cats and medicine cat apprentices he knew. She asked him a question he found difficult to answer, not because it was complicated, but because it was ugly. "I didn't." The same answer as Dawnpaw's question, though the implications were different. The tired leader didn't want to repeat himself to much, so he swept his tail softly against the hard ground and trained his steady gaze on Dawnpaw. He'd mentioned the Clan's refuge. "Where are you camped? Take me there. I need to see everyone."

Dawnpaw stared for a few seconds, hardly blinking. So he'd... lost a life or maybe a few in that fire. Dawnpaw hadn't stuck around, not even for a second. Nope. He'd gotten the heck out of there before the fire came anywhere near him. It was clear that Spottedstar wasn't going to give many answers right now, and that was fine. With a shrug, Dawnpaw turned himself around and nodded in the direction of where the rest of the clan currently resided.

"Right this way," He spared a glance at Beechpaw, but a knowing look was on his face. Dad might lose it... I hope you have a plan. He began to lead Spottedstar to the rest of the clan, which wasn't necessarily a long walk.

Upon entering their new "camp" Dawnpaw cleared his throat.

"Everyone? Spottedstar has returned to us!" He announced, though his voice was soft and cautious at first as he glanced around for Bloodstrike. Luckily, he wasn't around at the moment. There was an unspoken tension around Dawnpaw, but he didn't show it in his expression. He stepped aside to let the other cats greet their leader if they so desired. His blue eyes kept scanning the area almost mechanically for Bloodstrike.

Dawnpaw's claws sheathed and unsheathed. He really hoped his dad could keep it together, or he and Beechpaw may have to try to hold him back...

Dawnpaw's voice reached the deputy's ears from where he was curled, nose-under-tail, in a corner of the yard. Wolfcall's head lifted, his ears flicking forward as the words spoken actually registered. Spottedstar. His father was here.

His father was ALIVE.

The dark tom was on his paws an instant later, ignoring the twinge of pain in his ribcage, and practically flew across the yard to greet the returning cats. Spottedstar looked worse for wear, that was for sure, but he was alive... and he'd found them. "Spottedstar, I -" his brow furrowed, and he gingerly leaned forward to touch noses with his father. "I'm so glad you're okay... I... what happened? How did you make it out? Where..?" His eyes slid past the ginger Tom, desperately searching. "Murkpelt..? And Mistrain, have you seen her?"

Beechpaw felt slightly nauseous as Spottedstar answered her question. He hadn't...? Oh, oh. That was... bad, yes. Wordlessly she turned and kept pace with her brother as they headed back to camp, the disheveled leader in tow. At Dawnpaw's knowing look, Beechpaw grimaced. Dad was not going to be happy. At all. Nor was mom, she suspected, though the pale tortoiseshell had always been quieter than her mate when it came to her dislike of the clan leadership.

---

Smokefeather lay quietly in a makeshift nest, tail slowly lashing from side to side, ears pinned in dark irritation. Clearly, forced rest was not sitting well with the active she-cat.

Noise from the camp entrance made her stir slightly, but Smokefeather didn't lift her head. Dawnpaw... Smokefeather's eyes narrowed. She dearly hoped that her kits could stay out of trouble for more than two heartbeats. She loved them, she did, but Dawnpaw and Beechpaw were going to be the source of her fur turning gray, she was sure of it. Ears pricking up as she listened, Smokefeather felt her heart drop as she made out the words. Wolfcall was asking about Mistrain and Murkpelt, that meant they weren't there... Part of Smokefeather wanted to believe they were still alive, but as the days wore on even she knew how unlikely those chances were.

Smokefeather briefly closed her eyes, allowing herself to let out a quiet sigh before she shook herself and slowly clambered to her paws. Spottedstar was back? She was sure their wonderful, competent, perfect leader would have something to say.

Spottedstar looked like he'd been dragged through the dark forest, which was to say, terrible. Cold gray-green eyes assessed his disheveled form, but Smokefeather couldn't find it in herself feel much of anything sympathetic towards him now that the leader was here. He was more of a stranger to her than most of her clanmates.

Still, she'd hear what Spottedstar had to say, not like she could do much else at this point.

Wrenspring was roused from a restless sleep. He quickly rolled to the side and onto his paws, abandoning what had been a precarious position of his spine pressing into the earth. A low grunt left his maw as he began to limp towards the gathered cats and from the corner where Sagelight had been tending to him. He longed to no longer sleep underneath the watchful eye of the medicine cat and to be curled underneath the cool shade of an actual den, fit for warriors. But such kit-like dreams were dampened by the immediate reality. Every ounce of his pelt still bore traces of his friendship with Redfall. The wounds had begun to seal themselves shut with time and the guidance of a medicine cat. But there were deeper reminders, rage written across Redfall's maw that he saw when he closed his eyes. His pelt was stiff and weary from the arduous task of healing from such an unhindered mauling.

One shoulder was wretched, marking him with a limp. The length of his spine still has slivers of missing fur. Scratches down his cheek were obvious; scuff and chest wounds were still a mess of disheveled fur that still barely covered the marks. Perhaps his bent tail looked more in place than before. Regardless, Wrenspring had the determination and heart of a warrior buried somewhere beneath his fractured spirit. And it was the return of the leader that kept him pressing forward and flamed the embers of hope burning beneath his pelt. There was no doubt that not every cat loved or respected Spottedstar. However, Wrenspring had always devoted himself to the protection of the clan and he had never seen the elder tom do anything to specifically harm that. Sure, the tom had faltered, but at the heart of it all Wrenspring judged him as a decent cat. He had similar feelings about the deputy as well, despite the previous infraction of ignoring their leader's wishes. Lion's Eye instilled a drive to seek understanding, and that he had begun to take up as his mission.

The white and gray patched tom surged forward, as fast as he could without his injured shoulder giving out on him. He spotted Dawnpaw who the call had risen from and looked eagerly past the apprentice. Green eyes lit with a spark they hadn't held since he had been torn to shreds. Spottedstar was really here. Of all the things they had lost, Skyclan still had yet to lose their leader. Moisture welled at the side of his eyes and he called out with a hoarse rasp, created by the lack of use of his tongue all this time, "Spottedstar... you're alive."

The emotions that clouded Spottedstar treatened to overwhelm him, bringing barely detectable tears to his stinging eyes before he blinked them away. Seeing them alive and still together filled him with the joy of a father finding his lost kits - which was accurate, he thought, as he stepped forward to meet Wolfcall's nose with his own. In the back of the growing crowd, Juniperlight's bright yellow eyes appeared. Spottedstar beckoned his youngest son over, and the black tomcat approached with some hesitance before nuzzling softly into the leader's smoke-scented shoulder. The warrior was more than happy to see his father home, but he'd picked up on the same missing faces as Wolfcall. The ash-covered tom sighed, feeling his joy tempered by grief. Not only was the state of SkyClan as he found them miserable, they'd lost members and didn't even know it. There would be no easy way to share the news. He could only hope that Foxfire wouldn't be among the list of deceased they'd have tallied by the end of the day.

"Let me... call a meeting. This is something everyone should hear." His voice was notably lacking energy. He bounded to the top of a nearby pile of refuse, careful not to put his paws on anything sharp, and raised his broken, raspy voice to summon the Clan. "SkyClan, gather before me!" They were not the ceremonial words a leader usually used to address the Clan, but they were not in the camp they usually lived in and he wasn't willing to say more than he had to. The sharp pain in his throat and chest grew with the roughness in his voice. "SkyClan... I'm very glad... to see you all together and safe. I'm proud that you've... worked so hard to survive. For now, we will have to continue living this way. But it doesn't matter... how difficult and unfamiliar it is... as long as we stay together, we'll keep surviving. I couldn't ask for stronger, more determined cats to call my Clan. StarClan watches over us still." Spottedstar paused to take a moment to breathe deeply. He'd had to cut off at some awkward moments because of the stinging pain, but it didn't lessen the genuine pride that his meow carried. Weaker cats would have run in different directions the moment their safety was threatened. Lesser cats would have chosen to protect themselves over their injured Clanmates. Whatever had happened in the past was no longer important; Spottedstar looked upon his beloved son, Wolfcall, and his heart ached for the moons of closeness they'd lost out on because of his anger. Now he would bring a crushing blow to the deputy and the Clan with the news he had to share. "Unfortunately, there is nothing left of our... home. The fire still burns at the edge of our lands. Everything... is charred... and black. It's not safe to go back, and the other Clan territories will catch fire if they haven't by now. And..." Although this pause did serve to catch his shortned breath, he also wasn't certain how he would deliver the worst of the news. There seemed to be no way through it besides being upfront; that's what he would want from anyone else. "At least two of our Clanmates died in the fire. I tried to save them, but Murkpelt... and Mistrain... are dead. I buried them on SkyClan land before I... found you all. I hope they're the only ones we've lost."

Spottedstar bowed his head and closed his eyes, finished with his announcements. He was exhausted from the day-long toil of burying two bodies and trekking through twolegplace, plus the emotional weight of the crushing situation SkyClan seemed to be in dragged him down like a stone in his belly. He could barely look at Wolfcall or Juniperlight. He didn't have the strength to watch their pain and be unable to help in some way.

Amber eyes followed Spottedstar as he perched upon what would have to work as the Tallbranch, for now. Wolfcall trailed behind, sitting near the bottom of the pile and tilting his chin up to watch, ears straining for every word his father had to say. It started out as he knew it would - SkyClan's territory was destroyed. Anyone with eyes and two braincells to rub together could see that. But as Spottedstar continued, apparently with news of two deaths, Wolfcall's tentative hope that they could escape the worst of it quickly disappeared.

The moment their confirmed deaths left Spottedstar's mouth, Wolfcall could hear no more. His eyes never left the leader, but they were distant and glazed. Murkpelt...  Mistrain. His mother. His daughter. Dead. They were dead. Blood pounded in his ears, drowning out everything. Finally, his eyes closed, hot, stinging tears pooling under his eyelids. He should have gone back. He should have gone back.

The deputy rose to his paws and turned without a word, the feel of his clanmates, his family, surrounding him suddenly suffocating and unforgiving. He couldn't be here, had to leave. His pace increased, and the pain of the broken rib was nothing compared to what he felt now, paws thundering against the ground as he did the only thing he could bear to do right now - put distance in between himself, and what was causing him pain.

Sagelight's ears pricked at a sound, a voice he knew well. The noise was warped and quietened within his somewhat-deaf ears but he could always recognize the voice of his dear brother. The medicine cat leapt to his paws where he sat in his makeshift nest and darted out of his equally makeshift den, bounding over towards where Spottedstar stood on the pile. Teary-eyed, he stopped at the base of the pile and gazed up at him; ragged and dirty as he was, as they all were, SkyClan's leader had returned to them. He would speak with Spottedstar privately in a moment, but for now Sagelight sat and listened to the news as best as he could.

As much as he hated to admit it, the news that two cats had perished in the fire were not surprising. The pang of guilt that wracked his form was hard to bear. A stray tear slipping down his face, Sagelight bowed his head in grief. He should have done more to help them, anything, anything he could have done, he would have. Should have. The pointed tom swallowed hard, pushing down the lump that was rising in his throat. "May StarClan light their paths, may their prey be plentiful, and may their hearts be bothered no more..." his voice wavered, addressing the Clan after Spottedstar was finished. "Spottedstar, I thank the stars that you have returned to us safely."

He...didn't know what to say other than that. What could he say? Their futures were still uncertain, moreso now than ever. Where would they go? Even with his closeness to StarClan, Sagelight had no more answers than anyone else.

Primrosepaw was shocked to find the makeshift camp so crowded when she was roused from her rest by her brother's cry. Her sharp ears pricked at the sound but the words themselves took a moment to register. Spottedstar? He's back? She had not lost hope for him and the others that had disappeared, but it had started to feel as if her fellow clanmates had. However, her face fell as she rushed out to greet him. There wasn't the faintest trace of Mistrain's scent, or Murkpelt's for that matter. Not believing it she breathed deeper, but was left coughing slightly at the stench of ash surrounding her leader. They can't be gone. She thought, maybe they just got split up or something. 

His voice, raspy from the flames, called the clan together. She joined her family and listened closely. It seemed as if she shared some of his thoughts: SkyClan was strong and resilient, they would earn their better times, earn for everything to be fixed. But... Murkpelt and Mistrain were dead. He had confirmed it, but something inside her refused to believe it. He had buried them though. They were well and truly gone. She hadn't known the two she-cats particularly well, but they were still family, even if it was distant. Head weighed down with grief for her family and friends, she could barely hear Sagelight's blessing, rather focussing on her own.

I'm sorry I didn't help you. I should've, and I'll never forget that. May StarClan light your path...

Dawnpaw had quietly listened to the news, observing Spottedstar's ragged appearance and raspy voice. His ears rotated back in sympathy. The fire had been hard on all of them. Now to hear about the deaths of two cats that belonged to his clan brought a wave of shock and pain that even he had not been expecting. Mistrain... he was never nice to her, not even once. Murkpelt he hardly knew at all. He sighed once, his head dropped and his eyes fell to the ground for just a moment. He had nothing to say to Starclan in his moment of silence, because he doubted they wanted to hear anything from him anyway. He had done nothing but neglect and disrespect Starclan and the warrior code. If he said anything now, they'd probably turn their souls away and send them to the Dark Forest out of their sheer hatred and spite for him.

Dawnpaw heard Wolfcall pad away and turned his head to look at him. He must have been hit the hardest out of everyone here. He'd lost his mother and a daughter. Without being entirely aware that he was capable of such things, Dawnpaw's heart lurched in sympathy for their deputy. He'd done so much, sacrificed so much and did a wondrous job of filling in for the leader... only to be greeted with news like this.

Wolfcall... if I could take some of your pain... carry some of your burden for you... I would. And for the first time in his life, Dawnpaw felt like he meant it. The deputy had earned even his respect where very few others had. As the dark tom moved away from the rest of the clan, no doubt to mourn his losses, Dawnpaw even rose to his paws as the thoughts of going after him compelled him to do. He knew Wolfcall would probably prefer to be left alone, and he would leave him alone, but not before Dawnpaw could offer his deepest condolences and let him know that he, like Bloodstrike, didn't have to appear as hard and as unbreakable as stone all of the time. It was maybe something he needed to hear, even if it was something he would ignore right now but think about later.

No sooner had Dawnpaw pivoted on his heel to trot after Wolfcall... that a sight in a nearby tree froze him in place mid-stride. His eyes widened before he could remember to keep his expression under control, lest he alarm any clan member who looked at him. His heart pounded. His breathing all but stopped.

"Sister..." Dawnpaw's voice barely croaked out. He hoped no one else but Beechpaw would pay him any attention. He forced his breathing to return to normal and did his absolute best to keep his fear scent from leaking out too much for everyone else to notice. High up on a tree limb, looking down at the entire clan... was Bloodstrike.



Bloodstrike had been perched in the tree for several hours before Spottedstar even arrived at their new camp. He had wanted to be hidden and alone in his own grief, and the thick leaves of the tree had hid him well. He'd spotted the arrival of Spottedstar and his two kits not long before the reached "camp". If rage could start another fire and stares really could pierce through someone... Spottedstar would have a massive hole right through his body and Twoleg place would have been incinerated in an instant. Even Bloodstrike didn't know how his own emotions, his own endless wrath, could burn him more than any real fire could.

Bloodstrike eventually moved once Spottedstar's speech was over. He dropped down to a lower branch and crept forward across the limb until he was balanced precariously near the very end... and he was trembling as blinding, white-hot rage overwhelmed and consumed his very being. His eyes were fixed on Spottedstar, whether the leader would ever realize he was there or not, it didn't matter to him. Not anymore. Despite the heat of the fires miles away and the heat of this merciless greenleaf, Bloodstrike's body shook and his lips quivered on top of his fangs as if he were near freezing to death.

For several tense seconds, he could only stare directly at Spottedstar as his claws gouged deep grooves into the limb beneath his paws. Once those few tense seconds had passed, Bloodstrike dropped once more from the limb, this time to the ground below. The heavily muscled, bobcat sized tom hit the ground with an authoritative

Thud!

Wordlessly, he padded forward, directly for Skyclan's leader. With every step his tense muscles rippled underneath his blood-colored striped coat. Something small and white ran in front of him to impede his path, but it's efforts were in vain as Bloodstrike simply shouldered passed the thing that he once knew as his child, Dawnpaw. He closed the gap between himself and Spottedstar, knowing the leader probably wouldn't move, whether it was out of fatigue from the fire and his journey here, or out of sheer stubbornness that he, Bloodstrike and even Wolfcall shared, Spottedstar would hold fast.

Bloodstrike came to a sudden halt as if he'd hit an invisible wall just as he got his teeth well within striking distance of Spottedstar's neck. "I told you didn't I?" Bloodstrike hissed in Spottedstar's ear, trying to keep his words low enough that only the intended cat could hear him. "I told you it was too late for them. I told you we should have rebuilt some sort of relationship with the other clans. I told you. I told you. I told you. And you dismissed me like a gnat." Bloodstrike paused for a moment to let the words sink in as his fur bristled on end. His claws buried themselves nearly to the knuckle in the dirt beneath him. If anyone dared approach, they just might lose an eye.

"My grandmother is dead. My sister that I loved so much is dead too. If Starclan had any justice or cared about us, it wouldn't have been you that returned." He paused again. Tears welled up from his eyes and flowed freely down his face, and for once in the big tom's life, he couldn't care less if the entire clan saw it. Let them say something. He'd tear out their throats where they stood. "If you care about this clan, then resign. You have been wrong too many times, you've made too many mistakes and you are either incapable or unwilling to fix any of them. You haven't even come to me to try to repair our relationship and I am your grandsson!" Bloodstrike's claws sheathed back into his paws and the shaking in his muscles finally stopped. Finally, Bloodstrike's voice rose just a bit, just enough that others straining to listen might hear him.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked, his voice breaking toward the end. There was a lot of pain behind his rage, and if he had to hold himself together for too much longer, Bloodstrike was going to come undone.

Wrenspring hadn't been close to either of the cats whose lives were lost, but they were clanmates nonetheless and he knew their pelts as well as his own. Head bowed, his eyes darken as the warrior allowed himself to feel the palpable air of loss radiating through the clearing. Cats had gathered swiftly around their leader, most with some semblance of hope shining behind their gaze. How unfair it was for life to make cats wrestled with pain and hope all at once. There was a flicker of movement that caused him to look up. Wolfcall padded away. The grey and white tom couldn't see their deputy's expression but he could picture it clearly, as if he had.

A longing to comfort others blossomed from the numbness in his chest. It was only the ideal that perhaps these cats wanted to grieve on their own that he hung back. In these few moments, heartbeats passing and words muttered, Wrenspring had found himself drawing closer to the leader as if the warmth he needed could be found in the leader. But as he met Spottedstar's expression, it spoke of unbearable weariness. Kit-like ignorance was a thing that told you leaders were infallible and strong, above the mortality of normal cat; and yet, there was nothing more real than staring into the features of a cat with the world pressed on their shoulders. Spottedstar was just like the rest of them, he grieved like the rest of them, and he fell short as all warriors did.

A thud of the earth caused his head to snap up from the pale orange of their leader's coat. Bloodstrike. He caught the obvious rage that twisted the warrior's maw, hatred twinkling in the depths of his dark eyes, and masking whatever grief was buried. There was no denying that the younger tom was a strong and convicted warrior. But there was something about his personality that Wrenspring had never placed, perhaps it was an ambition he couldn't understand. Regardless, as the dark-pelted warrior spewed venom from his tongue, Wrenspring stuck close. His own claws dug into the ground and he clenched his teeth. Whatever was between the pair, he could not understand. However, this was no place or time for infighting between their clanmates.

"Stand down, Bloodstrike." Wrenspring spoke with the most conviction he had for the past moon, seeking to meet his clanmates gaze, "This won't do our clan any good. I won't fight a clanmate, but I've taken blows from one before and I'll do it again." His teeth ground together, raking the inside of his maw, as he prepared for whatever ill-intended blows may come his way. This was hardly the reunion he expected.

Sagelight felt himself bristle at the rising tension in the air, Bloodstrike's large form advancing on Spottedstar. He rose to his paws in alarm, unable to hear the words that were being said in the warrior's rage but seeing enough to know that he was speaking. It was unlike the medicine cat to show anger, but even he could feel the tension and worry rise up in his throat and poison his blood as he watched Bloodstrike snarl at his Clan leader. His brother, no less. Silently, the pointed tom found himself climbing up the pile that now served as the Tallbranch, claws digging into the heaps of garbage and debris to help keep him stable.

"What is wrong with you?" the larger warrior spat in Spottedstar's face, and soon after came Wrenspring's voice, somewhat warbled in Sagelight's damaged hearing. "St-nd do-n, Bloo-st-ik-. This won't d- o-r C-an any g-od."

With a small grunt of effort, Sagelight shouldered his way in between his brother and Bloodstrike, his own fur bristling and eyes flashing. He gave the warrior a stern look, blue gaze hard and pointed. It wasn't that he thought the leader couldn't defend himself, rather, that he would much prefer it be him that took a lashing than his brother. "Back off, Bloodstrike. This is no time for in-fighting. We are all grieving, hungry, and tired. No cat is free from making mistakes either. Any grievances we have with one another can and will be settled civilly, understand? I will mediate if need be, but I will not stand here and let you threaten our leader." The medicine cat's pupils narrowed into slits, his voice growing cold. "I'm disappointed in you, Bloodstrike, I expected better from you."