When the World is Against You [After Gathering Topic]

So many thoughts were swimming in Shrikestar's head as he led the clan back home. After another disastrous Gathering, and the words he'd gotten from Swiftspirit, there was a lot for him to think about. He didn't speak to anyone as they made it back into camp, where the Tallrock loomed large over him. Everyone was beaten down in one way or another, but there was something he had to do. Was he strong enough to do it? He wasn't sure, but it felt like there was no choice anymore. His clanmates stood against him: it even felt as if those above stood against him as well. What more could he do?

He slowly climbed up to the Tallrock, his steps somewhat unsteady due to still feeling the effects of the lightning bolt, but there was no more time. Time was something he was out of. "WindClan, to me!" he called to the clan, taking a shaky breath as he waited for everyone to gather around.

Rosepaw had not attended the gathering but that did not mean she had been asleep. She was keeping a promise to herself, for Batsong's peace of mind, not to risk the danger of another gathering. Staying home while her clan ran the risk, however, did not give Rosepaw any peace on these nights.

She had barely slept in two moons and somehow she did not feel tired. First had come the fitful nights waiting for the attack from the darkness, and now that the worst had come, the grief which had fastened its claws around her heart for her friend and mentor Flutterpetal. For Adderdawn, Amberstone, Mudshriek, and Weaselfoot, the other friends she had not had the chance to make. Finally, came the anger of the stars.

Rosepaw had lay awake to feel the pressure suddenly amassed in the sky and the electricity that quivered her whiskers, up on the moors so close to the stars. The crack of the lightning bolt had reverberated in her bones and echoed through the forest.

She waited in terror and dread for the return of her clan, the sickening choking scent of burning and smoke reaching her nose instead of the familiar scents of the cats she knew. She was thankful everyone was alive; the sight of Sootstorm twisted her heart, barely softened by the relief seeing the rise and fall of his breath. Others were singed. Their leader looked electrocuted as he slowly scaled the tall rock, miraculously standing to call WindClan to him.

Rosepaw immediately answered the summons, her heart thumping so loud she didn't know if she would be able to hear the announcement over its racing terror.

Brackenwing swore she was never going to a gathering again.

Short fur still standing on end, the elder limped into camp after Sleepyhollow and Fennelbreeze. Her back and previously-injured leg were screaming at her, but she was determined to ignore the exertion she'd put herself through and see herself into camp on her own four paws. She forced herself to trail the two cats to the medicine den, just to make sure that Sootstorm was alright. Tigerdance seemed to be having trouble too,, and she padded over to him. "You okay?" He didn't seem to have been struck by lightning, which she was grateful for. That at least, could be considered a good thing given how things had turned out.

Her own ears rang and there was an odd sense of pressure in one. It had thrown off her balance, she was almost sure of it. Even with her leg the way it was, she didn't usually feel this off. The afterimage caused by the bright flash of lightning had faded, her vision was a little blurry but it had gotten better with time already. The dryness of her eyes was uncomfortable, but nothing she couldn't handle. The dizzyness and ringing in her ears, though...

Stupid Nightstar, stupid Shrikestar, stupid toms who just had to derail a night of what was supposed to be peace because they couldn't put aside their own ego or need for vengeance... Her own fault for going to a gathering in the first place, when they always ended the same. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Shrikestar called for a meeting, and Brackenwing suppressed a low growl as she finally dropped to her haunches, green eyes narrowed and ears flat against her skull as she stared up at him. She would retreat to her den with Whisperear, but part of her wanted to hear what the sorry excuse of a leader would say for himself this time.

Sparrowthorn couldn't help but feel conflicted the whole, terrible, walk back to camp. Sootstorm's wounds were, thankfully, not life threatening. Nor had any of the wounds sustained seemed to be. She may as well use up all the herbs now, before Shadowclan... or just Nightstar, decides to come and try to take them. With a brief word of thanks to Sleepyhollow and Fennelbreeze for carrying Sootstorm back, despite his attempts to walk back himself, she had taken to mixing poultices for his burns.

Upon hearing Shrikestar's call, she had tried to persuade Sootstorm into staying put, but he dragged himself out anyway. With a scowl, she muttered, "Stubborn idiot," and followed him out. Someone had to keep an eye on him, and since no wounds were life threatening they all may as well hear what Shrikestar had to say for himself. Saying she was angry at her father was an understatement, Sparrowthorn was furious. His pride had hurt her clanmates, and himself. She loved her father, but she hated what he had done, and where his love for his clan had gotten them.

It was a bit of a struggle to get back to camp, luckily his nose was working just fine so he just ended up following everyone's scents to help lead him back to the place he called home. His ears ached as they rang, his eyes were slowly clearing up but they still weren't perfect. He could make out big objects, and shapes of others but nothing was clear.

The tom nearly flinched when Brackenwing approached him. It was rather unexpected causing his ears to go flat against his head. "I.." He started, rather unsure of what to say. "I can't see well right now, and my ears are ringing." There was no use in lying. It was probably very clear to others that there was something wrong.

He opened his mouth to say something else to the elder when Shrikestar called for a meeting. The tom let his ears fall flat again as he let out a growl. "I'm not looking forward to getting blinded a second time Shrikestar. Hurry it up." He didn't have any patience left in his body at this point.

After Shrikestar had regained consciousness Smallbean had spent his remaining energy at Tigerdance's side, staying near the tom in case he had trouble keeping up. Physically, he was okay, it seemed. The same couldn't be said about Sootstorm, however. Every now and then he'd cast a glance to the other tom. Guilt remained stagnant in his stomach.

When they'd made it back to camp, Shrikestar was already on top of the Tallrock. Fresh anger surfaced. The deputy's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. The only thing that gave away his internal fury was the slight raise of his hackles, which he struggled to keep flat. As angry as he was, he felt pity for the leader. Surely, he was acting as he saw fit. Unfortunately what he saw fit resulted in the injury of multiple warriors across all clans.

Smallbean didn't make any effort to gather beneath the Tallrock, nor did he make himself comfortable. Instead, he stood somewhere between the center of camp and it's outskirts, fixing his mismatched gaze on their leader, bitterly wondering what he could possibly have to say. What could be said.

The negative emotions were palpable, thick enough in the air to cut with a claw. It had never been this bad before. Their words echoed in the night, speaking at him, against him. There didn't seem to be a single cat in the clearing on his side. Not even his own children understood. Swiftspirit's words moved through his mind again, and he let out a heavy sigh. There was no recourse left for him.

"WindClan, I spoke with StarClan tonight," he began, not needing to revisit the obvious that he only spoke with them because he died. "They have revealed to me that my actions as of late have been in error. I have caused pain to you all, and for that I cannot ask for your forgiveness. Tonight was the culmination of a lot that has gone on lately, between us, between ShadowClan. I have now realized the truth: that I am not the leader WindClan needs right now. I love this clan too much, and I will not let it hurt any more. As of tonight, I am stepping down as your leader. I will not be leaving this clan that I love, but I will no longer be your leader. Smallbean," he turned to the deputy, wondering what his mentor thought of him now. He didn't want to know. "I know you will lead this clan back to where things used to be, and I will do everything I can to right any wrongs I have done." Sadness enveloped his body, knowing that he had failed the clan he loved so much. He could only hope that someday they could forgive him, and that StarClan would still welcome him when the time came. For the last time, Shrikestorm left the Tallrock.

Coyotegrin's eyes head whirled. What had happened? She ahd no interest going and instead stayed behind with Kestrelchirp. She felt like a weird shadow at the edge of the clearing... A distant ghost to this clan. Her eyes narrowed at Smallbean. Him. As leader. The familiar knot in her stomach nearly made her puke. There was no way she would be named Deputy under him, if her own mate had rejected her from the position. If she had been made Deputy, this wouldn't happen. She wouldn't have let it. If it did... She would be Coyotestar and the clan would actually be in good paws. Before she was noticed, she slipped out onto the moor.

Kestrelchirp approached Sparrowthorn, his face knotted with worry. His father cut him off and he followed her out from the den. "What happened?" He whispered low and filled with concern.

Smallbean was prepared for almost anything to come from Shrikestar's mouth. Anything besides the words that reached his ears. 'Stepping down as leader.' Anger turned to panic and clawed at the pit of his belly, but he was too tired to react. All he could do was stare, wide-eyed, at the leader. As much as he wanted to dash forward, to claim that it was the wrong thing to do, that he should continue to lead, his paws remained firmly on the ground. His gaze remained unwavering, his brows furrowed. The words that Shrikestar was saying, the responsibilities that he was passing on, weighed on him more than anything else he had experienced in his life, and there was nothing that he could do about it. Upon Shrikestar's retirement was his inevitable ascendance to leadership. It was something he had acknowledged from his deputy ceremony, but never was something he'd ever had to consider.

From this point on, he was leader, and he was left without a hint of direction. All he could muster to his former leader was a nod, a weak confirmation that he would try his best, for there wasn't much else that he could do.

Stepping forward from his spot on the camp's outskirts, he let his gaze sweep across the camp. From Brackenwing, then to Sootstorm and Sparrowthorn, then back to Shrikestar. Now, they were all his responsibility. Their lives now weighed on his shoulders. Swiftly, but unsteadily, he scaled the Tallrock, taking the place that Shrikestorm had just heartbeats before. "I... Will try my best to lead. All of you." His words revealed his exhaustion, but his mind remained clear - as clear as it could be. "For tonight... See to the wounded. Those of you who have stayed awake, rest. More will be done tomorrow." The announcement was short, far from sentimental. He was too tired to fully process it, to explain his thoughts thoroughly. It didn't matter, though. It was late, he was tired, there were injured to be treated.

Letting himself slide from the Tallrock, he padded towards the medicine den, muttering questions to Sparrowthorn about Sootstorm's condition. Once he had conformed that they weren't life-threatening, he mumbled a goodnight and turned to his den.

Tigerdance jumped slightly at her approach, and Brackenwing frowned at him in concern as he spoke. Shrikestar began to speak however, cutting off any response she would have had. But what was there to say, really? This should never have happened. She wanted her friends and family safe, not collateral damage because two kits playing at leader were bloodthirsty.

Shrikestar's words were... A surprise. Brackenwing had not thought the tom capable of seeing past his own delusion, much less thought him capable of stepping down. The news was downright delightful to Brackenwing. Took you long enough, that's the most sensible thing you've done in moons, old tom. Brackenwing kept the thought to herself as her gaze turned from Shrikestorm to Smallbean. Shrikestorm stepping down was what the clan needed, and Smallbean... Smallbean was a coward... But he was an honest coward who wanted better. Not to throw his warriors away for petty grievances and pride, not to continue a stupid feud that never should have started. Smallbean no longer had the excuse of hiding behind Shrikestar's leadership, and he'd have to start to think for himself and think for what was best for Windclan. If their previous talk had not done so already, Brackenwing would be happy to hammer the point home to him.