June Gathering 2022

Moorbite hadn't been to a Gathering in so long, it felt different than even the probably hundreds he's been to since he was just a wee baby. His tall frame peered over the crowd, making not so quite observations to his mate and long time comrade, Stumpytoad. The little half-cat. And my! A murderer! "Execution! Execution!" He called out with Mintheart, followed by a wheezing laugh. When Mintheart asked about the kitting, he swiveled his head to the direction. So much excitement, his old bones could hardly take it. He repeated what he was seeing but the still sharp Mintheart beat him too it. "Execution!" He called again as Bloodstar passed. When Perchstar addressed the other leaders, Moorbite chuckled once more before calling out over the noise. "Start a war, Perchstar! War war war! You fluffy fish brains still have claws, don't yah?" He swiped his paw in the air, like he was swiping a cat in the heat of battle. "Come on Shrikestar! We can ally! I'll join the ranks again!"

Moorbite js addressing Perchstar and Shrikestar.

One of the two newly born she kits began to squirm and wiggle letting out a rather strong and loud mewl. Only when a warm thick tail sweep her and her sibling as she had figured with the other squirming warmth next to her. She quieted as she started to doze off.

Shrikestar was not expecting his first Gathering as leader to be so hectic. After driving away the Dark Forest, he had expected there to be some moments of calm, but that seemed to be too much to hope for. At least it didn't involve his own clan, though some of the elders seemed to want to make it their business.

"Quiet!" he hissed at the elders, though his eyes did gaze towards the cat that had admitted to killing the RiverClan medicine cat. He hadn't expected SkyClan to appoint death as their punishment, but it still seemed as if justice would not be meted out without it. A life for a life. This wasn't his clan's business, however, and he wouldn't insert himself into a potential war without provocation. Not unless there was something to gain, anyway. His gaze then turned to the other leaders. What more could they say that would even bring the Gathering down from its current frenzy?

Now elevated by Mintheart, Stumpytoad craned his neck to see what was happening. And stars forbid, he did not like what he saw. The confessed murderer was going to attack those poor kits! Well, if no other cat was going to do something, he sure would!

He launched himself from his companion's back, and stumbling, bolted through the crowd. Shrikestar had decided to try to quiet them down, but that was not going to stop him. He threw his head, cackling like a maniac, as he made his charge.

"EX-E-C-TION! DOWN WITH THE MURDERER!"

And he forced his way through the barrier (it helped that he could squeeze through the legs) and latched his teeth onto the foreleg of Beechfang.

Stumpytoad is taking the execution into his own paws

“Stumpytoad!”

Mintheart ran after her friend, her lanky legs carrying her. To run like a warrior again!

He weaved through the crowd, through the line of cats surrounding SkyClan, Mintheart following suit. Her reddish brown fur bristled as she approached the silver tabby brute.

Stumpytoad launched himself to her leg, and Mintheart came around the other side and attempted to bowl into Beechfang.

“Murderer!”

Mintheart is following Stumpytoad and enacting justice!

Moorbite laughed his heaving laugh when Shrikestar quieted hi.. "Finally, a little bite to you Shrikestar!" He turned to his wife, only to see her and Stumpytoad gone. Oh, bother. Where did they go? Turning his head again, he found them attacking the murderer. Or trying. "Hey! Fleabag's! Wait for me!" In his head, Moorbite was charging at full speed into the battle. In reality, he was moving at a slow walking pace towards the mess.

As he was charging into battle, the clouds became covered and thunder began to boom. The elder stopped dead in his tracks, and glanced at the sky, then back to his wife and friend. "Mintheart! The only ones who can stop us scolded us! Back off, my love."

Moorbite is..... Charging..... Into battle. Then stopped.

Snowfoot froze as StarClan covered the moon. Her eyes frantically searched the crowd, trying to find out who broke the truce, and of course they were right in the thick of it. Elders. What the? Of all cats, Snowfoot would’ve thought the elders would be sensible. But these ones, wherever they were from, apparently had bees in their brains.

Blazepaw, on the other paw, recognized the voices and pelts immediately. Groaning loudly, she shoved her face into the dirt. Sometimes her clanmates could be so embarrassing.

"Oh, shut up, mousebrains. Don't drag our clan into this, it doesn't involve us." Brackenwing muttered, rolling her eyes at the heckling of her clanmates. Shrikestar had spoken up to quiet them, at least... She didn't envy him in that position.

Brackenwing stared in open disbelief as elders - Windclan elders - went after the grizzled warrior that had just confessed to a murder. Were they absolutely insane? These were their supposed respectable (ha) elders? Oh stars above... "What are you fleabrains doing? This is a gathering!" She scolded the elder as if he were a kit, because he might as well have been. "Stumpytoad! Mintheart! Get back here!" Part of her wanted to just leave the old fleabags to their fates. They had chosen this path of nonsense, after all. And she sure as foxdung wasn't about to press forward into the ranks of the Skyclanners surrounding them to get those elders either. That was only going to cause more problems and more problems was the last thing this gathering needed. The sky had darkened above, and Brackenwing's ears flattened as she shot the elder she'd intercepted a horrified look. "They shouldn't have had to stop you in the first place. You should know better." She hissed lowly at him.

What was with the full moon and violence, anyways?

---

Wolfpaw glanced wide-eyed at her siblings and parents. Beechfang had shouted orders, calling to their father to bring herbs. Right, she'd been a medicine cat at one point, so had Dovefrost. Briarthorn would be in good paws, at least, though Wolfpaw had grown increasingly uncomfortable as the tension in the clearing spiked. A group of elders were taunting and jeering, calling for execution... Bloodstar wouldn't execute Beechfang, right? Her gaze sought out those of her siblings, desperate for reassurance.

Cats had managed to force their way past and she hissed, ears flattening as she stumbled as one of them dashed between her legs. "Hey, what do you think- Get away from my mother, you foxhearts!"

---

"Her first mistake was opening with threats and expecting respect. Her second was speaking of things she knows nothing about. Like a certain dead medicine cat I know." Beechfang muttered under her breath, downright cranky at the words of both Perchstar and Bloodstar. "Dad, sticks. Or help shield Briarthorn from view. No queen wants to be hovered over."

Beechfang inclined her head briefly at the tortoiseshell Thunderclanner that had come to help. She must've been Dovefrost's apprentice, then... Well, that would be an awkward conversation at some point, she was sure. But Briarthorn was kitting, and that was where her focus must remain. The Windclanner and Shadowclanner that had both shown up were unfamiliar to her, but they smelled like medicine cats, "Thank you." She mewed, somewhat stiffly, but in this situation she couldn't afford to be picky about what help was offered. "Chew on these - don't swallow, not your first time, I know." She muttered to Briarthorn, passing the chervil to her. The sticks were laid at the queen's paws, as well. "Fuzzypaw, was it. Give her space." She wouldn't have appreciated his daft encouragement... And she and Briarthorn were similar, as much as Beechfang didn't want to admit it. "Former medicine cat." She added somewhat stiffly in response to Fuzzypaw's observation.

Two toms and two she-kits were born, and Beechfang quickly cleaned them off as best she could. Now that this was over, they could work on getting out of here and back to camp.

Fangs- in her foreleg. Beechfang immediately spun, placing her body between the cats attacking her and Briarthorn. The move had been pure instinct, to keep the kits as far from the danger as possible. The scent of Windclan assaulted her nose and she growled low in her throat... Only to stare down at an elder that couldn't have been much larger than Tinystar. He had stones that was for sure. For an old, decrepit thing such as this to attack a confessed murderer easily three times his size at-

Panic flared in her expression at the realization. Bloodshed. Fourtrees. The last time this had happened-

"Get away from me." The agitation in Beechfang's snarl was very, very real. She glanced at the sky instinctively, ears flattening as cloud cover rolled in overhead. Lightning flickered across the sky, and though it hadn't hit close to fourtrees, her pale tabby fur stood on end. "Bloodstar- We need to go-" Likerightnow. The icy tendrils of panic that had clawed their way up her throat made it difficult to think, let alone speak.

Retaliating, she was sure, would bring that lightning very close to home. Beechfang had no desire to be anywhere near it. The branches of the great oaks swayed overhead in the breeze, and she tensed. She hardly felt the second elder that had rammed into her side. She may as well have not been there at all.

Brackenwing is scolding Moorbite and the other elders, but is keeping out of Skyclan's reach.
Wolfpaw is in awe at the chaos and yelling at the elders to get away from her mother.
Beechfang is... trying not to lose her mind. She would like to leave now and never come to fourtrees again.

Moorbite grumbled at Brackenwing, his ears flattening. The kit wasn't wrong, but he had only charged in because Mintheart did, and only she did because Stumpytoad did. "Now hold your tongue kit, SkyClan is a bunch of rogue's anyway." He didn't move though, and instead peered around her for his wife.

Trufflepaw had watched the Gathering in shocked silence, for the first time in her life. So Beechfang was a murderer? Cool! Her admiration for her mother only grew in this moment, and she glanced around to her litter mates to judge their reaction. She watched the banter back and forth, and stood when directed by Bloodstar. And then... Kitting. Sigh. More pesky little fleas to bother the clan. And then... Elders. Attacking Beechfang. Jumping to a fighting stance, her fluffy fur bristled. "How dare you attack my mother?" She hissed through clenched teeth.

There were no words for the mental acrobatics Owlshriek had to go through in order to understand everything that was happening at the gathering. The dismissive behavior from Bloodstar towards Perchstar made his hackles rise. The clear acceptance from Beechfang, then the kitting-- The warrior struggled truly to understand it all happening. Not to mention the sudden rumble in the sky. StarClan. Owlshriek's ears flattened, and the warrior brought Stormpaw closer to him with a nudge of his tail. If any fights broke out, Stormpaw was his first priority. He was young, and had plenty to go when it came to his fighting. Yellow eyes flickered over to Maplespring to see how she felt about the happenings. WindClan wasn't at all involved, aside from elders attacking Beechfang.

Thunder rumbled again, and the warrior could feel the shaking of the ground underpaw. Yellow eyes flicked towards Perchstar. The sheer effort it took him not to join the fray-- the tom shook his head and leaned his head down so his apprentice could hear him over the roaring of other cats. "The peace of the Gathering is sacred, Stormpaw. We cannot control other cats, nor other clans. The only thing you can control is yourself." He explained, rationalizing his restraint verbally. "Things will be made right in the end. And if they are not made right, it is not the end." They would find justice for Cloverheart. No matter if the killer was a former medicine cat, the daughter of the SkyClan leader, or had helped another cat give birth. They still killed a medicine cat, protected not only by StarClan, but also their own clan.

Straightening up, Owlshriek raised his gaze toward the remaining leaders, ignoring the cluster on the other side of the clearing.

Owlshriek explains things to Stormpaw, checks on Maplespring, and looks back at the leaders, ready to continue.

Mintheart bounced off of the absolutely massive silver tabby, with Stumpytoad still locked on her leg. Mintheart cackled as she watched the massive tabby squirm with little Stumpytoad latched on her ankle.

Fear crept into Beechfang’s face, to which Mintheart hissed, “Why you scared now? You weren’t scared of killing no medicine cat!”

The clouds grazed over, and she saw Moorbite shuffling towards them with Brackenwing in tow. “Stumpytoad, we gotta get back to Moorbite. I think Brackenwing needs us.”

“C’mon, boy, I ain’t got all day,” she growled as she allowed the short tom to crawl on top of her.

When she weaved out of the circle, she approached Moorbite and Brackenwing. As she approached, she heard “kit”. The addled she-cat grinned from ear to ear.

“Great StarClan, baby, you didn’t tell me ‘bout no kits. Yo’ body ain’t the same after having ‘em. I had four litters!”

“You ain’t gonna have ‘em here, right?”

Mintheart is trying to get Stumpytoad away and called Brackenwing pregnant. This should go well.

Fuzzypaw backed away from the kitting as he saw two old cats spring on top of Beechfang. “Guys, guys, it’s okay,” he cooed as he tried to usher the elders off of her. The short one clung to Beechfang’s ankle and the tom grimaced as the clouds glazed over. If he tried to pull the elder off of Beechfang, he could really mess up her leg…

“Uh… guys? What’s going on?”

Fuzzypaw is completely flabbergasted right now!

Nightpaw's bravado earned a less-than impressed snort from Birdpaw, her own arrogance creeping up to take over her frustration. "If you're ThunderClan's best, then I feel sorry for them." She huffed, setting herself a little taller so she could properly glower down her snout at the apprentice. "And, what's so important–" A shriek of agony broke across the clearing, and it made Birdpaw startle, her tail whipping. Was that... her mentor screaming? She'd been so focused on berating Nightpaw, she hadn't been paying attention to the words around her. But at some point, Bloodstar had descended from the rock, parting the sea of cats around him. Oh. For a brief moment, she could see it: her parents, hunched over Briarthorn's form, other cats she didn't recognize trying to crowd their way in. "Dark Forest, she's kitting," the large apprentice hissed unprompted, her gaze snapping back to the ThunderClanner. "You... you stay here! I have to go!" And with that, she was off, taking care to roughly shoulder Nightpaw as she dove back into the crowd.

It was hard enough, trying to force herself between the bodies, but then two other cats darted by her. She didn't recognize their scent, but she could see plain as day they were elders. Old fleabags that shouldn't have even been in Fourtrees, let alone shoving her out of the way trying to reach her family! But they weren't just getting a closer look– the littler one dove to sink his fangs into Beechfang's leg, and the other gave a feeble charge to her ribs. Thunder rolled, and a haze of darkness fell over the clearing; but Birdpaw was undeterred. Even Driftcloud, shouldering himself in front of her sisters, wasn't going to sway her.

"Let go of her, you flea-bitten.. you... Let go of her, you feather-headed worm of a cat!" Came her battle cry, and she went flying into the fray, digging her own teeth into Stumpytoad's tail.


Webshadow had been quiet as the Gathering went on, even when it erupted into chaos. Claims of murder, and a confession to go with– and what appeared to be a kitting, right in the middle of it all. But he kept his ears pinned to his head, trying as carefully as he could to avoid the cats that flew past him to observe the drama up close. More than once, he was jostled by someone bounding past, or went stumbling into a cat standing on his blindside. His tail had started to lash, hackles raised, agitation written across his usually stoic expression. SkyClan was going home, or at least they'd been ordered to... so this Gathering would be ending early.

Twisting around to put the Great Rock back in sight, the dark tabby craned his neck to look up at their leader. "Frostgaze, we–" He started, when a low clap of thunder rolled across the sky. It made all his fur rise, puffing him out to twice his size. He wasn't suffering another Gathering where StarClan decided to enact their wrath– or to disappear. Wincing, he raised his voice to call, "Frostgaze! StarClan would like this Gathering to end, please. As would I. ShadowClan needs to go home– now." His voice was strained, and his claws flexed to sink into the soft earth, searching for stability amidst the swirl.

Birdpaw has abandoned Nightpaw to defend Beechfang against the pack of elders.
Webshadow is asking Frostgaze to take ShadowClan home.