March Gathering 2022

Ravenclaw and Shrikestorm both entered the Gathering with their respective clans. Ravenclaw sat with her clan, while Shrikestorm padded silently towards the other deputies. His wounds weren't as visible underneath the moonlight, but he held himself seriously at that meeting, staring up at his leader. What would she say about the invaders?

Spottedfrog had never seen the full moon so dim. Its weak light guided her paws as she plowed a trail through the snow, her broad chest carving a path for Pigeonsun's frailer form to follow in the near-darkness of the starless night. It was cold, and the two cats, despite both being long-furred, had their heads pulled down, ears plastered, and tails tucked in an attempt to shield them from the cutting wind. Their travels hadn't been easy, and it felt like half a lifetime had passed in their absence, but none of that mattered right now. They were home... or, at least, almost home. And tonight was a Gathering.

Hearing Pigeonsun shivering behind her, Spottedfrog slowed. The striped tabby continued forward, his head down, eyes mostly closed, until his shoulder brushed her haunch, and he stopped to look up, confused, as he'd been following her mostly by scent, and habit. "What's the matter? Are we there?"

Spottedfrog surveyed him with sympathetic eyes, the mostly ragged coat that hung over his now-thin frame. He'd certainly been through the most, in their ordeal, and it showed. "Almost," the she-cat breathed. "Almost. Can you make it?"

"Y-y-y-yes," he chattered, another shiver wracking his body. Spottedfrog was doubtful, but she said nothing. Standing here in the cold, however, was exactly the opposite of helpful, and so she just nodded and continued forward. She had tried to leave the younger warrior behind, with Cedar, at the edge of the clans' territory. They'd found a shelter there, some Twoleg rubbish that had provided an alcove where there was no snow, and it was easy enough to build heat if you curled up. It was no SkyClan camp, no warriors' den - stars, how she longed for the warriors' den - but it was enough to keep him safe, and would have kept Pigeonsun safe, too, if the knucklehead had bothered to heed her.

Spottedfrog didn't blame him. She, too, could have weathered the storm and stayed with her mate, and Pigeonsun, for the night. But they'd made it back home on the exact night of the Gathering... and that was the stars aligning, if she'd ever seen them. They were meant to be there, and so they would be.

"We're almost there," she repeated, though it was half to herself, and half to her companion. Almost there, almost there.

It seemed like only a few moments later when Spottedfrog stumbled forward as the sudden give in resistance against her chest caught her off guard. She caught herself, planting all four paws, and stared... another trail, this one larger, trampled down by many more paws. A rapid inhale, the cold sharp and biting against her mostly-frost-clogged nostrils, brought in the scents... SkyClan. Dad, Mom, Newtspring..! Spottedfrog almost felt the snow melt from her coat as a fire within her rekindled the energy that had been fleeing her quicker than a rabbit across the moors.

"Their trail..?" Pigeonsun asked, flaring his own nostrils with a pained wince. "I didn't realize we were this deep into the territory."

"Me either. I thought we could intercept before they left camp, but..." Her ears flicked forward, then backward again. She didn't like that they'd gotten turned around, or that it was later than she thought it was. Maybe they'd missed the Gathering already. Maybe they should turn around, and go back to camp.

Seeming to read her mind, Pigeonsun moved to stand beside her. "We should keep going," he said gently. "We've come this far, and I know you want to see them. We can move more quickly now that we've got a path to follow." The two SkyClanners locked eyes for a brief moment, both of them waiting for the other to suggest otherwise, but when neither did, finally, Spottedfrog nodded. Together, they moved forward, side-by-side along the packed-down snow, until, finally, the hill loomed before them, the bare, leafless tips of the Great Oaks peeking just over it. Without a word, they quickened their pace, moving until they were practically sprinting up the incline. They crested the top and paused, eyes flicking among the dozens of cats that were gathered there.

The black-and-white warrior's first instinct was to find Bloodstar - and she did, perched atop the Great Rock and looking as noble as ever. Her second instinct was to find either her mother, or her brother, and it was Newtspring she saw first, at the exact moment that Pigeonsun seemed to zone in on Orchidmask, his excitement mirroring her own. Without a word, both surged down the hill, making a beeline for their siblings, who were sat together.

Spottedfrog broke away from Pigeonsun, circling around to leap at Newtspring with a reckless abandon. She didn't care who was watching, or who was around... or that she probably smelled a little like a rogue. She shouldered into her brother and then flipped on to her back to roll against him, a purr bubbling so loudly in her chest that she could hardly hear over the sound. "Hey, mousebrain," she said, flipping to her paws and pulling away just enough that she could survey him.

Pigeonsun's greeting was signifigantly more refined. He followed Spottedfrog at a slower pace, and instead of barreling into Orchidmask like his companion had her own sibling, Pigeonsun instead paused a fox-length away, his wide, earnest eyes searching for permission to move forward. He knew they probably smelled weird, and that their sudden appearance after being gone for moons might raise some hackles, and in his current weakened state he had no desire for any sort of conflict. "Hello, Orchid," he said quietly. "I hope you've been well. Is mother here, too?"

Spottedfrog and Pigeonsun are talking to Newtspring and Orchidmask.

Impatience prickled at Goldenstar’s pelt as she surveyed the crowd before her. She had returned to sitting quietly with the rest of the leaders, tension once again filling the air, and silently begged the ancestors that she’d remember all the relevant information she had to share. Finally she gave in to the urge to begin announcements. “Cats of all Clans, let this full moon’s Gathering begin!”

The WindClan leader allowed a few moments to pass for most of the cats before her to become silent. Some hushed whispers still remained, though she spoke over them with a grave tone. “I regret to report the death of Timbersun and Buzzardpaw at the jaws of loose dogs. Be on the lookout for wild dogs with no twolegs to keep them under control. Another apprentice, Daisypaw, has died due to an accident on the territory.” Goldenstar felt like her throat was closing in. Her daughter had just died… so had Swiftspirit’s mate and son. Grief was still tearing through her like a sharpened claw. Sharing the news with the forest was unpleasant, but their memories needed to be properly honored. She steeled herself with a deep breath to deliver her next ill news.

“Less than a quarter of a moon ago, Dawnhawk lead a patrol into our territory in an attempt to attack our camp.” Her eyes slid to the side, glancing briefly in Bloodstar’s direction. He had already absolved himself of responsibility for his former Clanmate’s actions in his conversation with Stoatstar, so making a snide remark would be a waste of breath. Her blue eyes flicked back to the crowd. “A young warrior spotted them before they could get close. Fawnsong suffered severe damage to his eyes, but was able to warn us of the attack. My patrol faced Dawnhawk’s group head-on and turned them back whimpering. Dawnhawk, in particular, fled after his allies abandoned him. It seems there is no true loyalty between them. His patrol contained these cats: a gold-and-cream molly not unlike Dawnhawk; a calico queen; a young, dark red-brown tabby tom; and a young, gray-and-white patched she-cat. It would be best to approach all outsiders with caution, but especially strangers who fit these descriptions. They left muddied and bloodied tracks as they ran, and though we returned to camp to have our injuries treated, their direction and path is plainly obvious. We haven’t yet taken action against them, and are instead planning a measured response. That is all I have to report.”

Goldenstar stepped back. Had that been it? Had she left anything out? Her part was done. There was no going back now.

Marshmallow's head turned to the cat next to her. Glad, that there was now someone who could get her mind off of... things. "Scorchtalon, huh? Nice to meet you. I'm Marshmallow of Shadowclan." She shuffled closer to the tom. "How's it been recently in Windclan? Shadowclan's been... fine... I guess." It wasn't all that good but she couldn't say they were dying.

When the gathering started, Goldenstar decided to speak first. I get to know more about this cat right away? That's good. "Oh... Did you know any of those cats? Are you okay?" Windclan seemed oddly open to sharing their weaknesses, but she wasn't going to object.

Marshmallow is speaking to Scorchtalon

Specklepaw was bounding towards the clearing, blue eyes shining- that was until... He fell in the dirt. He spat out some grass and pulled himself into a loaf position, staring rather angrily compared to how happy he'd had been only a few seconds before.

Specklepaw is open to talk to, but he might be rather angry

After having come in with the rest of Riverclan, Robinpatch wandered around for a bit. He eavesdropped here and there but nothing really stuck in his head. He was a bit more tired than he usually was but shrugged it off. He was getting older as the days went by so he'll just pin it on age. He didn't like when someone else called him old but he was more than fine with insulting himself...he was quite the character alright. He wondered what Jaystar thought of his cynical and strange uncle...

Robinpatch sighed as his eyes scanned the clearing with a bit of disinterest. He hunched further from boredom. Since when did gatherings become such a bore to him? He was losing his spark. He couldn't deny that. Shaking himself awake, the tom-cat began to walk with renewed energy. He wasn't ready to be a total grouch just yet. He'll save that for when he's actually an elder. He still had some life in him and he was going to savor every last drop.

He was going to go for it. The warrior was going to just walk up and join in one of the random conversations. Whatever. Never hurt to get to know someone new.

And someone new he did find. Skyclan's ex-medicine cat had caught his eye as well as the two young apprentices that were actively conversing with her. One of them smelled of Thunderclan while the other of Shadowclan. He was quite familiar with the Shadowclanners. He had spoken to Duskflight and Emberleap during prior gatherings. He had positive interactions with them and he was hoping for a third time.

Waltzing up to the trio, the older warrior purposely made his steps a bit louder so they would all be aware of his presence. "Hey kiddos. Mind if I join ya? Was just wandering around and doin' nothing for a while. 'Bout time I get some chats in before the gathering ends." He gave them an easygoing grin and shrugged.

---

Slightfrost glanced over as the Windclan cats appeared. he squeezed past the throng of cats and bumped Batsong on the shoulder. "Hey there!" he greeted. his attention quickly travelled back to the leaders. So three out of five clans have been attacked... how long until all clans do something?

____________________________________

so she was right. More than half the clans have been attacked now. Deerleap felt her fur bristle in frustration. when were the leaders going to do something? If they united, they could take on the Order!

Slightfrost is talking to Batsong
Deerleap is talking to Mistysky

Comfreypaw had found a nice group of elders that were able to soothe her nerves with their intriguing tales of all the times the clans have worked together. It helped her realize that the strangers around her maybe weren't so likely to attack all of the sudden. Though she wondered if it was only the moon that kept them peaceful. How different would gatherings be if that part of the code wasn't there?

Her head turned to the leaders' perch, ears poised to catch Goldernstar's announcement. What she shared was worrisome. I hope Thunderclan doesn't get attacked. The elders whispered things and some made snarky comments. Things didn't seem too bad.

And then the moon vanished.

A screech sounded from Comfreypaw. Horrified, shrouded in dark. Her tail lashed about in crazed panic, her eyes locked on the blackened sky. "STARCLAN HAS LEFT US!" she thought allowed, with little care to what she was screaming. She pushed through the panicking crowd. Where is Mama? Where is Darkpaw? Daypaw- Anyone!

Comfreypaw screeches doom, and is now looking for her family.

Before Pebblepaw could respond to his mother, Flurrypaw joined in beside them and echoed the same question. “Didn’t see her. Maybe she stayed in camp,” he mewed with a casual roll of his shoulders. Overhead, he heard the WindClan leader begin to speak, and he dropped his voice lower. “You know how the trip this far hurts her paw…”
The wind that ripped through the Gathering had caught him completely by surprise. Pebblepaw grit his teeth and hunched down beside Swanmist and Flurrypaw, just in case it was a strong enough gust to bowl him over. When it had subsided, the tom turned to look at his Flurry. His muzzle was twisting already into a grin to quip about the weather, but he froze when the shape of his sister nearly disappeared in a gathering darkness. A screech sounded off somewhere nearby and he recognized the voice of his clanmate, Comfreypaw.
His heart began to pound in his chest and his gaze lifted quickly to see the full moon turn from milky white to a dark, bloody red.
“Th… The moon!” He gasped out. “Great StarClan!”

They found out where Dawnhawk was located? Good. Nightstalker would be more than ready to tear his claws into that miserable rogue and his family for what they had done to Burningwing, Amberdawn, and his family. His teeth gritted against themselves as he listened to Goldenstars announcement, but the sudden darkening of Silverpelt drew his gaze to the sky. A strong wind tugged at Nightstalkers fur as he watched in abject terror the moon turn from its brilliant white to this murky red as if blood had gotten mixed into the marshes themselves. Fear shrouded the young warrior's heart as all he believed in just seemed to... disappear, just like that. He was still in silent, unflinching on the outside as he just stared at the starless sky... just like that.

Swiftheart looked at the sky in total darkness and looked around worriedly, being of shadowclan she could see in the dark better than most cats but it was still difficult to say in the least. She could barely make out the shapes of Ratrunner and loudnose sitting near each other and she darted over to them.

"G--g..guys?" she asked trying not to panic. "Whats happening?" she asked trembling.

She scooted closer to her older brother Loudnose and brushed against him feeling a little better that she had at least found some of her clanmates. She looked back and forth between the two with wide worried eyes.

"Nice to meet you Marshmallow!" He replied cheerfully, though his face took on a more serious expression when Goldenstar mentioned the rogues.

"Yes, I did know them. Both my littermate and one of my good friends were injured in that battle." Scorchtalon frowned, digging his claws into the ground below him, imagining ripping the pelt off the cats who dared attack his clan.

"But anyway, everyone's alive and well, and-" Just as he started to move on to a more lighthearted topic, the clearing was suddenly shrouded in darkness, followed by an ear-splitting screech.

The moon..? What..?

He jerked his head up, eyes widening in terror at the sight that greeted him. He could do nothing but stare in disbelief. He'd heard stories of Starclan hiding the moon behind clouds when they were angry, but to take it away completely?? What could the clans possibly have done to make them this angry?
----

Sootwhisker had been staring off into the distance, absentmindedly listening to Goldenstar ramble on about the rogue attack.

When will cats realize that talking about our problems gets us nowhere! We need to take action before those mange-pelts take more lives! He thought to himself angrily, glaring up at the Great Rock. He was interrupted from his brooding by a sudden panic that swept through the clearing.

The moon had vanished? He willed himself not to look, hoping that if he didn't he could ignore the darkness that blanketed the cats and the feeling of dread in his stomach. Backing away toward the Shadowclan ranks, he took comfort in the familiar pelts of his clan surrounding him. He felt like a helpless kit once more, staring up at the sky fearfully.

Whatever retort had been building on Poppypaw's lips was instantly forgotten as the Gathering was shadowed in darkness. She whipped around, forgetting Cinderpaw at once. Her fur bristled and she looked around wildly. It was so dark. She had no idea what could happen. Was this normal at a Gathering?

Then an apprentice shrieked into the night air. No. No, this was not normal. Where is Perchfall?

---

Icepaw's fur immediately stood on end when the moon disappeared. She didn't move but glanced around. As a ShadowClan cat, she could see easier in the dark, but even with that ability, it was dark. Shrieking coming from the cats did not help ease her tensed muscles. What was going to happen? She wondered where Forestpaw was, or Ratrunner. For once she wished her mother was there to comfort her. But she said nothing and just stood tense as a rabbit ready to bolt.

It wasn't long before Orchidmask arrived, wreathing through the crowd to bump into Newtspring. The tabby startled a little, but softened quickly when he realized it was just her. "Nah, if I was gettin' bored I'd chase ya off. I was lookin' for ya, actually," he assured, flicking his tail against her flank as she settled in. He was quiet after that, ears swiveling as he took in the conversations around him. A myriad of pawsteps echoed around him, but it sounded like someone was almost... sprinting, really? through the crowd. Moments before he could turn to look around, a heavy weight collided with Newtspring, sending him barreling into the dirt. A snarl started to rise, until a familiar voice hit his ears. "Spottedfrog!" Newtspring yowled, delighted, as his sister stepped off and he scrambled back to his paws. Pigeonsun had returned with her, greeting his own sister much more mildly. Eyes bright and spiked with threatening tears, the large tom butted Spottedfrog's head, a purr running through him. Distantly, he was aware of Goldenstar's giving her announcements– this, however, was much more important. "Stars, 'M so glad you're back. I thought you were gone forever." His voice was low, awed and reverent.

There was a beat, nothing but unfettered joy as he reveled in his sister's presence, of Orchidmask's. Then, as Newtspring pulled away from Spottedfrog, the moon washed away, and Fourtrees plummeted into darkness. A bark of surprise left him unbidden, and he wheeled away from his group, bumping carelessly into whatever other cats were near him."Wh– where did StarClan go?" He cried, heart suddenly kicking against his ribs.


No one approached her, and she hadn't made efforts to approach anyone else. Good, Cloverheart thought grimly. She thought she had caught Beechfang's eye earlier, and any prayer she muttered to StarClan that the she-cat kept her distance seemed to have worked. Cloverheart was content to sit on her own, tail twitching against her legs as she worried over the cats left in camp. I hope Darkglow is doing well. She hadn't seen the molly since her kits had arrived. How many suns ago was that? She wasn't sure.

Goldenstar stepped forward to speak, and Cloverheart lifted her head to listen. Ah. So... Dawnhawk is attacking all the Clans, then. And so many cats dead in one moon, too. She wanted to feel sympathy, but nothing stirred. Soon, WindClan's announcements were over, and the small molly waited patiently for the next to step forward. But before another leader could move, the sky above washed away, and the medicine cat let out a shrill noise as she shrank to the ground. Don't you dare! She thought, hot and panicked. Don't you dare do this now. Not before I see Darkglow again.


Daypaw nodded when Mistyfalcon relented, a smile gracing his features. "I'll be quiet then," he promised, settling down and loosely wrapping his tail around his paws. He was brimming with questions– there was just so much he didn't know! –but the pale tom dutifully kept quiet. One of the cats on the Great Rock, golden not unlike himself, stepped forward. Daypaw's ears rotated towards her, listening intently, hoping to hear good news from his first announcement at his first Gathering. But... the apparent leader of WindClan's words were grim, announcing multiple deaths– not only that, by an attack by a cat named Dawnhawk. "But... that's a Clan name. Is it always like this?" He wondered, cringing at breaking his promise, but looking towards Mistyfalcon for answers all the same. But then the light from above went out, and the apprentice shrieked, hopping to his paws. All his fur stood on end, tail lashing furiously, eyes blown wide with panic. He could hear his sister calling for him, but... he couldn't see a thing to get to her. "Comfreypaw, I- I'm here! Somewhere... Darkpaw? Mom?!" He wailed, legs trembling. "Mistyfalcon, what is this?"