April 2022 “Medicine Cat Meeting”

Myrtledove's steps carried him to his familiar home. His ceremony had taken such a strange turn, with Morningstar entertaining the pair of toms and bestowing him his new name. He'd accepted it, but it still felt... odd. He wanted to connect to their ancestors within the stars. He needed to know that they accepted him beyond the simple fact that he had gotten his name from Morningstar in the name of the Dark Forest. Would that mean they would deny him his name? All that he had done for his Clan?

Shaking his head, the tom made sure everything was sorted within the medicine den. It was a comforting work as his paws made sure to prune any ruined herbs. Given that they were plants, they'd tend to dry out and go bad after some time. Satisfied with what was done, he found himseld curling into his nest. The fluffy pelt of his was given a quick groom, and his gaze looked towards his ancestors as he felt the pull of sleep in his young body. "Starclan... Please, reach out to us tonight." He sent his silent prayer, but his hopes were certainly slim.

The Skyclan medicine den was a familiar sight, as Smokefeather idly wandered the camp day by day, her paws had sometimes led her there just to sit and watch, or to rest beneath the rocky overhang. Tonight, the half-moon was visible in the sky above, but no stars shone as she was used to.

Her paws had drawn her to the medicine den once more, sadness lingering in her gaze as she watched Beechfang slip into the warriors' den from a distance. She'd always been resentful of her time spent healing the injured and taking messages from Starclan... Perhaps that was why she couldn't hear her now. Even the rest of her family couldn't hear her. Still, Smokefeather would keep trying to talk to her clanmates, even if it felt like a losing battle. The dark forest had stripped her clan of their optimism and spirit, and Smokefeather wanted desperately to reassure them. She'd lost her own faith long ago, but to see the dead walking among the living, to see what Dawnhawk had reduced this proud clan to... No. She couldn't stand for it.

With a sigh, the pale tortoiseshell approached the occupied nest, translucent fur a shadow against the backdrop of the den. She paced in front of the medicine cat, hoping the movement would be enough to catch his attention even if her words didn't. He had to be just as desperate as she was for answers, for a way to communicate. "Can you hear me? Please... I know the others still can't."

There was something she needed to say, too. It came to her in a dizzying wave of knowledge, the sudden sense of dread and hope that stirred in her chest. Even if he didn't hear her... Maybe he'd read her lips. She had to speak, she couldn't just hold back. She had to try. "The walls are crumbling, hope peeking through the cracks. Five cats of strong faith and determination, one from each corner of the clans, is needed to break the shackles that bind them. Choose wisely, for this is our final stand."

Muddythorn was still uneasy after Morningstar's interruption of their ceremony, but at least Myrtledove was safe and newly-named. The half-moon was clear in the sky, a lurking reminder of where he was currently supposed to be - meeting with the other medicine cats and not stuck here, alone in camp. But thankfully, he wasn't alone in his den anymore, which was greatly appreciated. He curled up in his nest, hoping with all his might that something might finally happen, that Starclan. would reach out. Just maybe, this time it would work.

A voice. Muddythorn's eyes shot open as he looked around in confusion. It was Smokefeather's voice, one that he had missed so much. He nervously glanced at the entrance, remembering their previous interruption. But what he Morningstar do about this? "Smokefeather?" He said in surprise, barely believing what he was seeing. Nevertheless, he listened carefully. Final stand. If this didn't work, it would be the end of everything. "But how do we decide? And what is they find out before there's five chosen?"