where's your gavel, your jury? (c)

Being able to patrol again was... strange. This territory was not really anything like what Perchstar was used to. Still, prey needed to be caught, and borders needed to be patrolled, no matter how temporary they were. She was accompanied today only by Dovepaw--one of the apprentices she and Owlcall had found as kits. He seemed to have grown into a fine young apprentice, probably close to warriorhood if he wished it. Like most other apprentices she spoke to, he jumped with nervousness when spoken to, but at least he answered with respect. He had a good head on his shoulders. Instead of talking about unimportant things, he worried about the current events that had just been announced to the Clan.

"Are you sure that we need to go to war with SkyClan?" Dovepaw asked, a light of concern in his pale-blue eyes. Still, there was  a set of determination to his shoulders. He didn't appear to be afraid. "I understand if it isn't avoidable. And I know the illness isn't your fault, or anything, it's just... inconvenient timing."

Perchstar nodded. "If I hadn't been ill, we likely would have initiated war already," she responded with firm neutrality. "Not because I like war, but because I do not make idle threats. I spoke with Birdstar. I told her that all we needed was Beechfang's life--exile if she offered a reason it could be trusted, but the head of a murderer if not--and she refused. The life of one cat was more important to her than her Clan." The idea still baffled her. Though she held a deep and ferocious love for her family, she did not think that in Birdstar's position, she would stubbornly choose war over conversation. If one of her beloved kits killed a cat... then it would be by her own fangs that they were eliminated as a threat. The thought made her shudder, though, so she chose to ignore the hypothetical scenario. "If she changed her mind, then I would welcome the excuse for less bloodshed. But I know how stubborn SkyClan cats can be."

Dovepaw stared off into the distance. What could an apprentice have to think about that caused such a pensive look in his eyes? The threat of war was a real one, but she wasn't sure if that was his issue with the situation at all. "And you said we're still allies with ThunderClan. Would we go to war with them, if they murdered one of our cats?"

"Mottlestar is far more reasonable, thankfully. She has promised that if any such thing were to happen, the murderer's life would end. And I follow the same principle myself. Which is why we are still allies." Perchstar's torn ear flicked once. "So, if you are ever tempted to kill another cat, for any reason other than in the heat of battle for self-defense, I would advise you not to. No happiness awaits those who murder."

Solemnly, the apprentice nodded. "I won't."

Falconmoon had been hunting in the trees, a daring feat maybe after all this time in the medicine den, but he'd had little luck on the ground. He wanted to go back to how he used to hunt. Despite some lingering weakness still, he managed to move the grace and silence of a squirrel when it did not want to be noticed. It felt good to be in the trees again. Skyclan cats did not belong on the ground.

The tom crept like a pale shadow around to one side of a tree trunk, closing in on a weary blue bird. It was a gorgeous bird, one that even caused Falconmoon to pause and consider not killing it. It had a bright blue back, like the sky on a clear greenleaf day. It's breast on the other paw, was an intense orange like the leaves during leaf-fall. On it's throat and the side of it's neck were strips of pure white, like the snow in leaf-bare. It's long pointed beak, almost too long for the bird itself, reminded him of new grass shoots in new-leaf.

Falconmoon hesitated so long staring at the bird, that the sharp-eyed avian finally spotted him. With a single, very high pitched tweet, it fluttered off of the branch and was gone in a flash. The tom cursed himself for being so enraptured by the bird and allowing food to escape. He shimmied to the other side of the trunk and prepared to hop down to other branches when voices on the wind caught his ear.

"Are you sure that we need to go to war with SkyClan?" Falconmoon froze. The snow on the pine needle branch just above him moved just a bit with the wind, but it was enough to cover the tom in a powdered-sugar-like coat of snow. It hid his stripes well enough. If he remained still, he might just look like a clump of snow with a bit of sunshine on it. It wouldn't be the first time he used this type of camouflage.

"If I hadn't been ill, we likely would have initiated war already," Perchstar's voice. Falconmoon's fur bristled, but he remained still and where he was. His heartbeat was unnervingly steady despite the news. Perhaps he was in denial of what he was hearing, perhaps these words fell more on Dawnhawk's ears rather than Falconmoon's. The two were intertwined enough by now that it was harder and harder to make any discernments.

"Not because I like war, but because I do not make idle threats. I spoke with Birdstar. I told her that all we needed was Beechfang's life--exile if she offered a reason it could be trusted, but the head of a murderer if not--and she refused. The life of one cat was more important to her than her Clan."

At the mention of Beechfang, his claws dug into the bark a little more. His jaw clenched and he barely suppressed a growl in his throat. I wonder how she'd react if she knew I was back... That voice certainly had not been Falconmoon's. His nerves still remained steely despite his flash of rage as he waited, listening.

"If she changed her mind, then I would welcome the excuse for less bloodshed. But I know how stubborn SkyClan cats can be." .... Fine, Perchstar. Fair. He couldn't disagree with her there. He'd been both the reciever and giver of Skyclan stubbornness. It was something to behold if comparing it to a typical cat.

"And you said we're still allies with ThunderClan. Would we go to war with them, if they murdered one of our cats?"

"Mottlestar is far more reasonable, thankfully. She has promised that if any such thing were to happen, the murderer's life would end. And I follow the same principle myself. Which is why we are still allies. So, if you are ever tempted to kill another cat, for any reason other than in the heat of battle for self-defense, I would advise you not to. No happiness awaits those who murder."

At that, Falconmoon... or more likely Dawnhawk, barely suppressed a snort. Yet here you are so thirsty for one cat's blood that you will risk war, death and injury to the rest of your clanmates. Stars... no wonder I got as far as I did without ever being caught. As the footsteps of the two cats faded, Falconmoon slowly and carefully came down from the trunk. He would be heading back home now, empty paws or no.

He leaped in almost total silence from branch to branch, tree to tree. This was something he needed to talk to Wolfblossom at bare minimum about. Birdstar already knew and withheld this information, fine. But did his mother know? What were they going to do?

Furthermore... what about his kits? They were so young and so green still. They were far from ready for a war, and Falconmoon had enough memories of warfare to know that it hurt everyone, not just the ones capable of efficient violence. There was a lot to talk about... but there was even more for Falconmoon to think about. This was no time for rash decisions... but he knew there was going to have to be blood, more than likely. He just didn't know who's yet.