ThunderClan 'Gathering' April 2022

Mottlerose looked to the sky, and the appearance of the full moon without the blanket of stars felt... chilling. Shaking her head of the matter, the warrior found herself in the heart of the camp alongside the rest of her clanmates, even those she felt distaste for. The tortoiseshell blended in nicely to the night sky, with the orange of her pelt sticking out more much like bursts of sun than falling leaves. Taking her place, she'd lounge, open for discussion of anyone who may want to speak with the she-cat.

Morningpaw sat just outside of the apprentice's den, a tail wrapped around his paws. These cats have been around since the time he was a kit. Yet, he still found himself avoiding them and their...bloody nature. The tom didn't move from his spot as one passed closely by, smelling like death and rotting mouse. Shaking his head, the tom decided to groom himself, avoiding a conversation with those Dark Forest cats.

Meeting the other clans sounded really interesting right about now. What does a ShadowClan cat smell like? Toads?

Featherfrost poked her head out of the warriors' den, her enthusiasm at the prospect of hunting in nice weather quickly dissipating as she spotted the cluster of dark forest cats milling about camp and talking among themselves. More hesitantly, she pulled herself from the den, giving the dark forest cats a wide berth as she found a place near the edge of camp to sit.

Fawnpaw stepped out of the medicine den, her tail wavering low as she scanned around her clanmates… and those who once were a part of this clan, now staying with them. Temporarily. She’d told herself. It was only for now, until they were able to fight back against them again— and she wished they could, sooner, but all of the five clans were recovering. Gazing up, her eyes stared blankly at the starless sky, before walking up to claim an empty spot, setting herself down.

It appeared that a dark gathering was taking place, cats both living and resurrected assembling in the heart of the camp. Strangely often, the deputy noticed his clanmates glancing up at the star-less night sky and a hollow feeling always managed to seep into his chest. That same feeling lingered with him as he took his spot, pelt pressing comfortingly against his mate. Her familiar scent and pelt easily put him at rest and he curled his tail around them both. I have a feeling that things are going to change soon...

Though Cinderflame knew the moon was full tonight, she didn't leave her den. She watched with squinted eyes at how every warrior made their way out to meet Stoatstar and ask him about the Gathering... The warrior couldn't care less. Tomorrow, she and Rainpaw would be leaving this clan, escaping from the nightmarish ghosts from the Dark Forest. It wasn't an easy choice... leaving their family behind. But after what Stoatstar told her about her real parents... well, he somehow made it easier for her to leave. After all, she wasn't wanted here and she refused to acknowledge the tom as her father any longer. But what about Appledapple? Thoughts of her adoptive mother came to her and she felt guilty. The young warrior had been avoiding her for days since her argument with the leader. What was she supposed to tell her? She surely knew about her and her siblings' origins... would Appledapple react as angrily and bitterly as Stoatstar did when she announced that she was leaving the clan? The brown she-cat curled her body as she hid her head in the moss bed. Should I tell her...?

Cinderflame is staying at her den, listening from inside to the Gathering's announcement. She is open to talk to!

ooc;; takes place after this topic
you have until the 15th to get your posts in for it to count as a gathering req ^^

While cats milled about camp, tentatively lingering around the gathered Dark Forest cats, Stoatstar had set to work on something entirely different... dragging Thrushnose's frame back to the camp. The dirt that collected on her coat made him want to yowl and the only reassurance was that upon stopping he could finally groom her pelt. Dovefrost would help prepare the body and the clan would mourn. But what right did they have to grieve? Who would understand the senseless nature of her death when it seemed they all wanted the same thing?

He looked an absolute mess and felt like it too. Already, the tom's fur had been disheveled and his appearance was further accentuated by the wild look about his reddened eyes. Stoatstar looked like a shell of his former self. Throughout this whole ordeal, the tom had hardly taken a moment to himself, devoting his entire mind and body to the clan, dealing with the messes they made. Logically, he knew that his clan wasn't ill-intentioned. But that did not matter. Their actions condemned themselves, each other. No matter how hard he tried to be a voice of reason or guide them, it was hopeless.

Cinderflame did not care, she was going to abandon the clan. Softfall cared for nothing beyond the whiskers of his own maw. And Thrushnose was dead. Who would be next? Such raw and overwhelming pain had radiated so strongly in his chest for so long that it had been replaced with an angry numbness. At some point during the journey, his claws had begun to churn the earth in his wake. It did not make him feel better but it kept him moving forward, especially now that the camp entrance was in sight.

Stoatstar slid through the camp entrance, turning to better pull the heavy frame of his kin back into their home one last time. Wordlessly, he dragged her towards the center of the camp. Any cats that were in the way he simply shouldered aside until he found the right spot. They all seemed to be waiting for something. This was it - this was what they got. Without acknowledging any other cat, the little tom set to work grooming her pelt, sharing tongues for one last time. How long had it been since they talked? Now it would never happened again. This was their final moment.

Satisfied, he sat back on his haunches, glancing up at the stars for only a moment before scoffing slightly. Their leader looked like a maddened creature, fitting with the creatures milling around them. Eyes raked the clearing, seeing little more than the frames of cats and not taking time to identify their pelts. He had no desire to, the words that bubbled at his lips would come no matter who he was facing. For the first time, Stoatstar yowled as he addressed his clan, "Every cat seems to have their own thoughts about how to handle things! I've seen disregard for the code, the clan, my word well... this is where it gets you, Thunderclan! This is what happens when you act like a mousebrain! You end up dead! I've done everything I can to keep you safe but I can't raise the dead! No cat can. Starclan is dead and it is time we start acting like it!"

It sounded so odd, so jarring, to hear his own voice raised like that above the crowd. His teeth clenched and there was a snarl in the back of his throat that dared another cat to respond, to speak. Regardless, he felt prepared to snap further than he already had. If the tears hadn't all dried up already, he might have wept, but instead he stared at them with wide, red eyes. Stoatstar against the entire clan and he waited ever so impatiently. If his past actions hadn't been questionable enough, surely they would be now.

Thoughts interrupted, the harsh sound of fur roughly dragged across the ground drew his attention to... Stoatstar and... Thrushnose. Oh Starclan... why did it have to be now? Thrushnose was not a cat he'd ever been very close to, but to see his mentor, stoic leader in that state... Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he lowered his head to show sorrow and grief. He didn't feel worthy to come closer, and so he stayed where he was. I'm so sorry... Stoatstar.

Never had he heard the sound of Stoatstar yelling with such a devastated, ferocious, exhausted cry, its volume making him cringe. Jolting his gaze up at their broken leader, he pressed into Mottlerose's fur and inwardly his heart ached to do the same for Stoatstar. "He's not okay... he needs us now more than ever." he whispered under his breath. We'll- I'll make this right. I'll watch Softfall. Keep the apprentices in check. Agitatedly, his paws fidgeted with the ground, though he was unaware of his kneading.

Sparrowtail had been laying stretched out on his side, utterly relaxed, reveling in the relative peace and quiet the living forest brought. It was almost as if he'd never died at all; if it weren't for the puddles of blood he left in his wake, he could almost pretend to be a normal Clanmate again. He batted about a mouse's severed tail with clear boredom stretched across his marred face. Even worms were more fun to play with than this. He wanted nothing more than to go out into the territory on this beautiful night, but of course tonight the full moon would rise. They had to keep the living from getting any ideas. It was pretty funny watching them all stare up at the sky, oh so saddened that the stars had winked out. 'Not much of a difference if you ask me, over there it isn't also called The Place of No Stars for nothing.'

The tabby tom raised a nonexistent eyebrow at the sight of Stoatstar dragging a body straight through the middle of camp. He watched him for a while, up until the other tomcat started howling to no one in particular. The dead warrior honestly had to fight back a chuckle at the absurdity of it all. He rolled onto his back and raised a paw to blot out the moon. "That's the spirit, Stoatstar. Why even cry about something you have no power over?" He crooned, blood bubbling from his throat as he stared straight up. "What can you do about it. What's the point if you can't even keep these mousebrains in line for one heartbeat?" Was he supposed to be goading this cat? He could feel a laugh coming on, but he held back, lest he start spraying blood all over himself again. He peered out of the corner of his eye, gauging to see if he would react. No matter what it would definitely be funny.

Mottlerose pressed her nose into Minnowfin's pelt as he settled down beside her, welcoming the sensation of her mate. They didn't need to talk to simply enjoy each other's company - it was a welcomed trait the both of them shared. After a short bit of time of enjoying his company she'd start grooming his silvery pelt, working out the few bits of burrs that snuck in from the bracken and the forest. Even with the trouble that had fallen upon the forest, it brought back a sense of normalcy to be able to care for her mate.

Stoatstar's appearance brought with it an odd sight... but one that she recognized immediately. Her stomach clenched at the sight of the pelt he brought. Thrushnose... Her old mentor. One of the many cats who had their hand in shaping her path to warriorhood. The leader's disheveled frame made her motherly heart pang, and she wanted to step in to push him to go rest. But being the deputy's mate brought with it a whole new perspective... she understood that wasn't exactly possible. His cry to the clan only made her recoil further, and Minnowfin's further pressing to her brought with it a slew of emotions.

Her gaze caught her mate's anxious kneading at the ground, and she nuzzled him to attempt to snap him out of it. The tom had so much pressure on him already. But as the words turned in her mind, more anger bristled under her pelt. Anger at his audacity to disgrace his mother in such a way, at his desire to use it as an example for his distaste at his clanmates. An amber gaze that felt full of flame settled upon the brown and white tom, ready to deal out her blow.

"You dare use your own mother's death as a way to make an example?" She sneered, rising from her place beside her mate. Her ears were flattened back, and her crouch that of a cat ready to strike. "You, as the one we are supposed to turn to leadership, dare to use tonight, a night where even those of the Dark Forest are showing peace, as the time to strike back against your own very clan?" She further questioned. The normally sweet tortoiseshell had a nerve struck, and it was a side to her that only Minnowfin had seen before - the side that was unleashed when her loved ones were threatened. "I thought you were a cat to look up to, Stoatstar. I've shown you my care since the beginning. If you are just now realizing that not everybody in the Clan will act the same way you do? Especially in such jarring times as these? Maybe you are the mousebrain." It was odd... her mate had just noted he needed care. But Mottlerose truly felt he needed a smack in the face. "You can certainly grieve your mistakes, the loss of Thrushnose, the rest of what is going on, just like the rest of us. But do not dare take it out on the Clan when all of us are hurting in the exact. Same. Way." She'd stalked her way up to the leader's panicked frame. Even as both were adults, she just barely stood taller than him.

Mottlerose shifted to standing tall, with a confidence that she only seemed to recently gain with motherhood. "Go to your den and think. Sleep. Whatever it is you need to do to stop acting like a kit. Before you bring the rest of the Clan down with you." Her last words were spoken in much more of a threatening tone than the usual caring that accompanied such words. If he wanted to dish out such "tough love" to the Clan... Two could play that game.

Dovefrost had followed shortly after Fawnpaw when she had excited the den. The large white tom's green eyes widening at the site of Thrushnose.. Even from a distance he could see that the she-cat was no longer among the living. He could feel his heart drop.. The one who went to the twoleg place with him on the herb hunt. A cat he considered a close companion was now gone.. And Stoatstar's words.. Well they strung.. He was doing his best.. it wasn't his fault that Starclan didn't respond to his attempts to reach them.. What else could the medicine cat do? He wasn't a fighter not anymore.. All he had at his disposal was his ability to heal. The large white tom didn't approach anyone else, instead sticking right by his den and letting guilt swirl in his chest.


Starlingflare had stepped outside the warrior's den following after Featherfrost, dipping his head to the Dark Forest cats that lingered around the camp. He looked around taking in everything before following after his former apprentice sitting by her side. Of course he didn't say anything for now, there wasn't a need to, even as he watched Stoatstar have a break down over Thrushnose. The only reaction the gray tom gave was a smirk on his face.


Smokefang watched every cat with an amber gaze. Her misty form sat rooted in a spot over on the camp's side, even observing as the leader had yelled at his clanmates. Well.. That took a turn but at least he realized the truth of the situation. Starclan was dead, but she didn't approve of his methods. Yelling at his clan like that? If he wanted them to be strong this wasn't the way to do it. Of course before she could open her mouth and say anything, one of the living warriors beat her too it. Well at least one of them had some sense.

It wasn't long before Starlingflare joined her, and Ata- Featherfrost- gave her former mentor a small nod in greeting. Before she could speak, there was a commotion near the camp entrance. Stoatstar had dragged a cat into camp, her form limp and unmoving, both the living leader and dead clanmate filthy. Stoatstar's raised voice made her ears flick back in anxiety, though Featherfrost otherwise schooled her expression to one of impassive neutrality. She hadn't known the dead cat well, or at all really, and all she could muster was a vague sense of pity for the ranting leader. "Seems like the dead have already risen. Just not the ones he wants." She muttered to Starlingflare, tone too soft to carry beyond their direct vicinity. All she could feel was a sense of relief that the cat dragged in wasn't one of her siblings.

Seeing Thrushnose’s body dragged on the ground terrified her. She wasn’t fond of the warrior, but he was still a clanmate nonetheless… and yet, she was gone, now. Frozen in place, Fawnpaw couldn’t move— she didn’t dare to, her eyes widening in horror as she stared at the warrior’s body. And as Stoatstar began to speak, for the first time, the apprentice felt like she wanted to head away from the leader. Their figure to look up to— now saying… this? Her brows furrowed, halfway-unsheathed claws digging under the earth.

It wasn’t as if both Dovefrost and her hasn’t tried before. Even Fawnsong, he failed too, but— to give up now? A part of her felt angered, and she flattened her ears, looking at Stoatstar in disbelief. The Dark Forest cat’s words didn’t help, either, and she wasn’t able to speak up as bravely as Mottlerose did— Fawnpaw doubted anyone would listen to an apprentice. She was the only one who’s spoken opinion Fawnpaw agreed to, and the warrior had expressed it very boldly, too.

One day, I’m sure, we’ll prove to you that StarClan is still here. Just somewhere, not visible to us.

Softfall watched the events unfold.  His heart did ache for the loss of Thrush ... he didnt really know her that well but she was thunderclan and that is what he cared about most... his clan.

Stoatstar spoke angerly adressing the whole clan and Softfall looked down at his paws during it... he felt like he had failed Stoatstar and it felt aweful... but he did what he did for the good of thunderclan as he saw it.

Softfall didnt say a word at all during Stoatstar's speech and waited for it to be over... wow the leader looked really beat up in all forms... mentally and physically the small tom had taken alot recently and he looked it.

Then something very unexpected happened... Mottlerose stood up and angerly spoke out against Stoatstar... Softfall blinked several times trying to make sure this was real... this night just got stranger and stranger... What was she thinking exactly??? that yelling at him was going to help right now?  Sighing he rolled his eyes... for once he really didnt want to get involved in all this ... although he was probably a good amount of the reason Stoat was so stressed as of late with everything he had been up to.  Did he regret his actions?? hmm perhaps more so he regreted the consequences rather than the actions themselves.  Would he do it differently if he could do it over? Hard to say ... he hadnt meant for harm to come to thunderclan at all that was the exact opposite of what he was trying to acheive.

Softfall closed his eyes and kneaded his claws into the soft ground below... I will make this right Stoatstar... I will restore Thunderclan to its glory ... Seeing Thrush dead was a rude awekening to him and getting called out by Stoat did hurt quite a bit... how was he helping thunderclan if he was making the leader slowly lose his mind. hmm he had really gotten himself into quite the mess really.  He wished Cinderflame was nearby but he didnt actually see her otherwise maybe he would have talked to her... looking around there really wasnt anyone that was probably dying to see him... Mottlerose and Minnowfin both saw him as a freak he was sure of it (even if that is not the truth Soft has convinced himself it is)... hmm Fawnpaw was there but he had scared her so badly that she ran away from them last they spoke... great going Softfall he sighed angerly at himself.

It seemed that everyone he was trying to help with all his actions now saw him as a threat and a pain to deal with. Stoat and apple were always it seemed disappointed in him and they were his adopted parents for Starclan sake.  With Reed's death he really had no one left it felt like... thats when his eyes scanning the camp landed on Starlingflare... the one cat who seemed to understand him and Softfall had always been drawn to the older tom ever since even being an apprentice.  Starling always was so confident with his decisions... Soft was always second guessing himself ... perhaps he needed to learn from Starling this.

He slowly walked over to his clanmate.  He had not seen how Starling had reacted to Stoats breakdown but if he had he likely would have been quite angry as to him there was nothing funny about dead thunderclan cats.  Luckily for starling, Softfall had not seen the smirk Starling had given.

Quietly sitting next to his idol he greeted quietly while Mottle and Stoat had a staredown of sorts

"Riverclan continues to be aggressive towards us" he said in a whisper so quiet that it was questionable if Starling would even hear it even thought they were right next to one another.  No one else would be able to hear this.
"You and I seem to be the only ones who see that they will slowly take more and more until we have no chance" he said somberly.  Did Softfall enjoy having to attack every Riverclan cat he saw invading their territory? Not particularly but it served thunderclan and that was his job.  The rush of the fight used to entice him but it started to fade no longer bringing him the same joy it once did. The guilt of what he did at the gathering also weighed heavily on his mind.

Softfall was on the knifes edge of which way his path would continue. On one side he wanted to stop this, make peace with Riverclan and beg them for forgivness, his concience screamed at him constatnly to do this for the sake of Stoatstar and Appledapple.  On the other side of the knifes edge was the option of continuing down what he had done so far into an unknown state of darkness. And there he was balanced in the middle of the two, his future undetermained and teetering back and forth over the two sides.

Perhaps at some point in the near future Mottlerose or Minnowfin could talk to him to try and change the outcome of destiny, but for tonight he was sitting next to Starlingflare and was at his most venerable state of allowed manipulation.

Softfall is talking quietly with Starlingflare