𝗕𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅 ╱ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── His mate is strong and passionate, and as Wolfsong expected, Chilledstar's blow is received as but a kitten's swat. The fire may have stolen Sunstar's limb, but he never stands so steadily as he does defending his clan, the cats he has sworn to protect and guide. Though the chasm splits them still, Wolfsong is fiercely proud of him, and that pride is why he laughs when Lichenstar sets upon him, glancing at Cottonpaw with a crinkled eye. "I'm flattered someone believes so much in my charm," he murmurs, instead of questioning whether Lichenstar would ever have held Beesong responsible for Cicadastar, or Ravensong, or Berryheart when RiverClan lost Sunningrocks. No, he doubts that. Hypocrites to the last, always.

With his head still tilted toward his apprentice, he does not notice Lilacfur's paw before it has struck his ear, and for a moment, he does not move. Then he drags in a steady and deep breath and slowly faces her, the faint burning of his torn ear swallowed by the eerie calmness that settles over him like fog a still lake. "Ah, ShadowClan. Twice today you mock the stars. It seems Granitepelt must have left with all of your sense, scarce as it was." The moon darkens, and in the absence of its silver light, the chill swallows the breath of every tree and greenleaf flower. "Do it again. StarClan will close their eyes to the wriggling of your tongue in the dirt, where it will fight the worms for a chance to burrow through your empty ears." The shadows retreat, and Wolfsong once again finds Starlingheart's silhouette in the cold clearing. "Unlike Lichenstar, I do not hold you responsible for your clanmates' actions tonight, but I will say they do not deserve you. Be well on your journey home."
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 42 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
    ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
    ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
    ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
  • ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
    ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
 
"You rescued a cat who came to rescue your own, with a warning that your kindness died there — mere sunrises before my warrior was pulled beneath the river to die. I expect nothing but betrayal from RiverClan now." The bite of her words washes over him with Chilledstar's blow, but he has nothing in him that is worth arguing for. The truth of Gracklestep's death had seemed nebulous at the time. Had his desperate claw marks crossed the border? Had his death been as expected as Bluepool's? All he knew was that it was on her claws, and if there is one clan that Sootstar had spoken truly of, it was the fat-bellied creatures who laze within their territory and know nothing of suffering but what they bring upon themselves.

His gaze flickers to the stars, demanding, searching; they twinkle as they always have, their watchful gaze unblinking. Whatever they speak of in their prey-filled lands, he does not know. He can only hope that they remember their own starvation, and the claws they would wield for their clan when times called for it. And to the spirits of his mountain home, who cared little for such trivial matters, he need only swear to do the same. "Say what you will of my clan, or my honor. But do not speak as if you offered anything true to us."

Snakehiss' words find their way into the crowd. He looks upon the warrior that snarls her rage, that lashes out against Wolfsong with silver claws. With a grace unbefitting a cat without the balance of his forelimb, he steps towards the edge of the rock. Whatever swells within his chest is heavy as a storm. His heart is flush with it, racing in his ears. But whatever he is going to say, there is nothing but darkness. Not within him. Around him. Far above his head. His eyes turn back to the moon, covered in a blanket of clouds, and he laughs. "And now there is the moon." Darkness bleeds anger into the atmosphere. StarClan's displeasure made clear as the chill of the stones that he stands upon. "StarClan has heard enough, it would seem."

There is no verbal command, but he moves past the releaders with only cautious gazes over each of them, off the rock, and towards home as his clan begins to trail after.
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  • ooc: WINDCLANNERS GO HERE!! DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $200, GO SAVE HOME!
  • ↟ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.    ⋆̶̬́̀
    ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.

    82190121_9CSsSGfEk2LJ5dF.png
    a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
 
She got something right - Chilledstar decided to do something.

She didn't expect that something to be to attack Sunstar though. No, no, obviously— why would she expect that? Her jaw goes agape, she thinks, much like a raven would if it was killed mid - crow. Smogmaw leans forward as if the gathering has finally gotten good. Why did they have to lie to pretend they had more reasons to dislike WindClan? If you had asked — It's... It's a joke. Would Sunstar show at the border and say, please, spare some prey? They would've chased him out without a second thought.

We would've treated t-them with kindness if they asked for help, mutters RiverClan. Sharpshadow's reply is just the same level of quiet, but with keen ears able to hear. " ...You're lying. " Chilledstar's lying too, in front of StarClan and everyone else.

Murmurs arise from the crowd, and its embarassing. Why couldn't ShadowClan ever do what they were supposed to? Hushed voices and narrowed eyes all feel like needles for her skin and her skin alone, because perhaps she was the only ShadowClanner this close to the Great Rock itself to feel embarrassment, over this. When WindClan's Medicine Cat speaks, Sharpshadow only sinks further into shame, not like the bristling fury that Lilacfur feels.

As Sunstar speaks, he bristles. They owed WindClan no thanks for righting a wrong they should have never done.

But... You spew rage well for the one that allowed Granitepelt to escape your territory and come upon our home It's true. They should've killed him. Why didn't they kill him? for Smogmaw's theatrics? Shame, shame shame, and Lilacfur launches herself at a Medicine Cat of all things. " Lilacfur! " Sharpshadow whirls on her clanmate, voice choked in a frantic hiss. " Leave the damned Medicine Cat alone! " She remembers Bonejaw's leave — remembers feeling like ShadowClan was doomed, doomed, doomed forever because of it. No one else should have to feel that way.

StarClan seems to agree. Before there was darkness - now there is nothing. Not even the glint of teeth from the moon. StarClan tells them, silence, in the blotting of the moon. Sharpshadow's everything burns. Wolfsong does nothing but frown upon them more. Of course. Of course, what did they expect?

As soon as Chilledstar allows her to, she disappears.

OOC: out with ShadowClan!
 
The Gathering starts off just as well as Slateheart expected.

Sunstar begins with a bitter tongue, and as much as he wanted to agree with the cat he's believed in all along, he is instead filled with shame and embarrassment. Where was WindClan's glory days that were to come? Were they gone with the ashes? He had expected a new beginning, new alliances to form. Had they been driven so far past desperation that they were now reverting to old ways? Was there any recovering from this?

He sees paws lash out to and fro - starting with the leaders themselves - and Slateheart's eyes grow round. He was not prepared for battle; nobody was, as hungry as they were in WindClan. And if one were to start against a front of two, even more, Clans.. they would all meet their demise.

Then comes the inevitable. He has found himself a talking point amongst Lichenstar and Sunstar. Slateheart's body tenses at the mention of a warrior, saved by Twolegs, being utilized as a bartering tool. His shame doubles, radiating off of him in prickled fur, and his gaze begins to shift through the cats around him. Searching.. searching.. for a cat who is not here. For a cat who is tail-lengths away, under the leaders' perch. He wants nothing more than to feel a stable pelt alongside him, be that Troutsnout or Dimmingsun, but he is glued in place, solitary. Slateheart's eyes squeeze shut.

StarClan speaks, and the warrior is relieved to witness the end of the conflict. Except this is not the end; it is a beginning. It is a broken record spinning anew, the past coming to meet them at their heels. As WindClan begins to stream out after their leader, Slateheart beckons @Beepaw from whatever they have gotten into, and makes a beeline for @DIMMINGSUN. Wordlessly, he falls into place alongside his friend, matching his steps, while his frown remains hardset and his fur stays raised down his spine.
  • slate-page-doll-low-res.png
    slate slatepaw slatetooth SLATEHEART
    ━━ MOOR-RUNNER WARRIOR of WINDCLAN
    ━━ 23 MOONS,, ages every 6th
    ━━ LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE xx SILVERFOOT
    ━━ SIBLING to GRAVELSNAP and ASHPAW
    ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
    ━━ MENTOR to BEEPAW | MENTORED by LYNXTOOTH
    ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♡ | generally healthy, but experiencing shortness of breath.
  • 78016217_relDzXG2vj7CiMr.png

  • speech is #bbbb88

 
Cottonpaw feels that something must be said of the gatherings during Sunstar's reign. He is careful about them - rarely does he bolster his gathering party with plenty of swift and hearty warriors and apprentices. He takes the ones he needs, extends the offer to a pawful more, and moves on. Perhaps it is of lingering fear - the Clans of the forest still evidently do not like WindClan. Maybe he fears their camp to be raided thrice over in a single night, for StarClan would be much to busy watching the announcements.

And yet, when she wants just a simple night, her sorrows grow strong when she realizes that Sunstar must announce the passing of many (and the births of none. She wonders if the other Clans think them barren, given Sunstar's aptitude to leave out queens and their litters.) Her leader speaks and the chaos divulges from there. Her pupils thin to slices as Chilledstar lashes out and an argument between the leaders proceed.

The deputies and lead warriors bicker and discuss, too, and it seems Wolfsong attempts something of playful banter, too, with Starlingheart (however to her detriment, Cottonpaw notes. She's pleased with that.) A pale tabby emerged from the crowd when Wolfsong turns to speak with his apprentice, and claws score into his ears long before the blue smoke can warn him. "Hey-!" She hisses, however before she can react, clouds blot out the light. Wolfsong lays his threats down in the darkness, and as soon as it passes he shares his meaningful goodbyes. He seems in line with Sunstar, who announces their departure without another word.

"Oh, well... Goodbye, then," Cottonpaw murmurs to the other medicine cats, as even her cheerful patterns could not keep up with this disastrous meeting. "Off we go. We'll have to clean that ear once we get home," she nudges her mentor, tail sweeping low. "We've no idea what's mucked up her claws," the blue smoke glares towards Lilacfur, as if taunting the she-cat to act out once more, before continuing to follow her Clan.​
 
Howlingstar stands rigid beside Orangestar, her fur bristling as the blow lands. More ruckus commences down below, and it isn't long before blood reaches her nostrils, drawn from the WindClan medicine cat by a ShadowClan lead warrior. This is blasphemy! They are on a graveyard, for StarClan's sake! Before she can shout for anyone to stop, the sky suddenly darkens, and she sends rounded, pleading eyes upwards to the rumbling sky. StarClan is angry.

Expression tensing, she casts a concerned glance towards the SkyClan leader, who like herself hadn't even gotten a chance to get a word in. The shortest Gathering to date, she thinks. With a disappointed glance in Chilledstar's direction, the old tabby lifts her chin and says lowly, "Perhaps leave your loose-sheathed warriors at home next time, Chilledstar." Her warriors have never dared to do such a thing in StarClan's gaze. With a lash of her tail, she looks to the leaving leaders one more time before she herself climbs down from the Great Rock, but not before sending a swift prayer to their ancestors above. Forgive us. "Let's go, ThunderClan," Howlingstar murmurs upon reaching the ground, brushing her pelt against Raccoonstripe before beginning the trek home.
 


() he's left foxtail by the great rock to go and sit near hawkcloud and shellpaw as he was told. he flicks his tail around his sister's frail frame, ember gaze looking more like flames as he dares trouble to find him. find him it does, although not personally. there's no chance this gathering doesn't end in disaster with the way sunstar storms to his place on the rock and bellows for it to begin. he announces his dead, announces the name of riverclan as if spitting a fish bone from his throat, bitter and cold. pebblepaw finds his mother's face amongst the rulers, notes her icy gaze as the king of the moors fires accusations out over the crowd. shellpaw cries out as their mother is unjustly indicted, and the river hued tomcat presses hard into his sister's side, urging her to quiet, begging the stars to intervene. surely those sacred gods above will not allow such blatant disrespect to run rampant.

it isn't fair, shellpaw's correct, because ferngill is good and just and kind, and he's the kind of cat to playfight with kits, not murder someone. does self defense mean nothing to the rogues of windclan? he supposes not. "riverclan helped windclan with their fire and this is what we get?!" he calls, anger shaking in his voice. over by the great rock, foxtail murmurs something, looking as distraught as peblepaw feels. the next few moments happen in slow motion, a snowy paw gleaming in harsh moonlight, connecting with sun-strewn fur, and the lion that is windclan's leader bursts into flame. oh how he roars, icy gaze raking the sea of cats below with a bone-chilling glare. he sounds almost kittish with his anger, whines echoing from his throat, his speech flowing through one of pebblepaw's ears and out the other. shellpaw ducks low, cowering, shrinking into herself and burying her wet muzzle into his thick fur. the boy scoops a paw across her back, daring any enemy to come closer. the sky darkens. the stars intervene.

he wants to find foxtail, wants to summon lichenstar down from her perch and make her take them home. he wants to hide in the willow den with his mom and momma and his little siblings and shellpaw and he wants riverpaw home. the apprentice grits his teeth as the gathering disperses, the tang of blood on the air and the static of fluffed up fur and snarling chests fading out as first windclan leaves, then shadowclan and thunderclan. he finds mom's gaze up on the rock and silently pleads, eyes wide.

  • // " #848DAE"
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  • PEBBLEPAW ☼ HE / HIM, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORED BY FOXTAIL. 7 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
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    a large blue tabby with low white and vitiligo. pale blue fur covers the length of pebblepaw's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.
 
"Seriously?" The cry leaps from her jaws, joining the outraged chorus beneath the Great Rock as Chilledstar's paw finds Sunstar's cheek. So many things happen at once―the WindClan leader rages back at them, while below her in the clamoring crowd violence flashes like lighting. She's keen to agree with ShadowClan―and RiverClan, as Lichenstar would have it―but was that really necessary? "Great StarClan, talk about playing the prey," she growls, leaping to her paws with the rest of them.

The atmosphere darkens so suddenly Cherryblossom nearly flinches, fearing the cold douse of rain that doesn't come. The cats seem to quiet for a moment, only a moment, before bursting into argument again. Something something "Granitepelt," something something "kindness"―it's whatever; since the Journey ended Cherryblossom couldn't be bothered to keep up with the petty dramas of other clans. WindClan was on fire, and then they were starving, and while she feels a bit for Scorchstorm she can't help the second-hand embarrassment that leaks from her whenever her leader speaks. Still, these were certainly hefty morsels to tote back to camp...

"SkyClan!" the deputy would call, if her mother hadn't already. "You know what to do." With that and a tail flick, she daintily steps out of the deputies' place. While Bobbie's litter was sure to be disappointed, she's secretly grateful to have been passed over for the news of their many deaths and disappearances. Better to make everyone else look like a fool than honor their own foolishness. She'd gotten everything she wanted out of this moon's Gathering anyway.

skyclan deputy | "speech." | tags
 
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Pompous rambling. Bombastic diatribe. Exaggerated speech that would rival even the most histrionic elder's tale. That's all gristle on the cut. The juiciest, most tender meat is reserved for those wavering in the shadow of the Great Rock; the whispers, the mutterings, the hisses. Leaders' ornate orations bring no comfort, do not soothe troubled minds and frayed pelts, nor placate anxious hearts. The clans know better, and so the deputy does, too.

Truth is, Sunstar would've better gotten his point across by returning the blow delivered onto him. Slopping on about the past - when the present and future seem far more pertinent - is an exercise in futility. But, alas, such is not the conduct of WindClan. It is to rather strike at neighbours without provocation, and then bemoan how unfair the world is afterwards.

Smogmaw ought to shed a tear for the three-legged laggard and every sanctimonious syllable which escapes his maw, truly. Paragon of virtue, Sunstar. Saintly soul. That he'd make mention of Laurelpaw and Halfpaw's return wrangles Smogmaw's scarred muzzle into a grimacing snarl; leveraging prior good deeds for political capital, to excuse ongoing transgressions, should serve to humiliate him, not illustrate his clan's character in the manner Sunstar desires. It doesn't, though. The moor-dwellers will rally behind it, as they had with their previous despot, and Sunstar will bask in the glow.

What a farce.

Beside him, a RiverClan cat stirs. Foxtail, a russet-blotted tom whom he'd met earlier in the night. He's a timid sort, and true to this nature, he puts forth a mewling argument regarding the incursion into his own territory. WindClan should've asked for help, he says. They should've, and yet Smogmaw is inclined to believe their leader had wanted precisely the opposite. Causing a ruckus and playing victim comes smoother than honey off the tongue for the likes of WindClan, historically speaking. "A shame they didn't- Lilacfur!"

His lead warrior just went and attacked WindClan's medicine cat. Discounting the miserable clan Wolfsong belongs to and that nondescript smugness permeating his demeanour, Lilacfur's choice was - diplomatically speaking - a big no-no. Though Lilacfur's audacity, her willingness to take matters into her own paws, prompts a swell in his chest, Smogmaw cannot entertain the molly's choice. Nor can ShadowClan. Fuel for the fire. Fuel for Sunstar and his rabble to further vilify ShadowClan and paint them as reprobates, assuming they hadn't enough already.

The ashen-furred tom leaves his spot, shoulders his way through to her position—only for Sharpshadow to find his voice and aptly use it. She condemns Lilacfur's actions in an instant, and Smogmaw, slowing his pace, commends his former apprentice for doing her due diligence. Regardless, it falls on pivoting ears - the gathering has dispersed early before chaos can fully ensue.

He finds himself at a fox-length away from the moor clan's medicine cat, paws tensing from a now-settling agitation. He mutters to the single-eyed tom, unamused: "A vile, ugly thing you are, bringing up his name like that." Granitepelt. An apprentice-killing, kit-napping, scum-sucking fiend whom a healer shouldn't even dare to think to condone, much less in a public forum—incredibly less in Starlingheart's vicinity. Wolfsong insists he'd left ShadowClan with its last shreds of reason. Smogmaw bares his fangs a notch. "Be grateful for the stars and leaders that coddle you, medicine cat." That is all. No further reprimand, for there is no need.

Paws drag against low-lying grasses as he rejoins his fold. Smogmaw neither exchanges glances with the clanmates he walks alongside nor offers any comments on what'd transpired tonight. He's instead left grumbling, dwelling primarily on the conceited impudence which had oozed from the entirety WindClan, let alone their leader, and especially their medicine cat. "...tear out his good eye, stuff it in his mouth..." It's a paltry remedy at best.

 
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He stepped in front of @Emberpa𝓌, lips curled in a silent promise to defend her should the fools atop Fourtrees branches turn their ire to SkyClan. The tom's odd eyes were wide as he watched the display before him, leaders turning on leaders, lead warriors turning on medicine cats. Visceral disgust settled in his gut and an unpleasant yowl was hissed out from between bared teeth. He cared not for WindClan dead, but just as the moorland rats had broken a code, ShadowClan had shattered an unspoken oath, and the chill that followed on what had been a warm night told Silversmoke even their aloof ancestors had had enough. Tufted ears twitched as he looked to the sky, the hairs upon his spine standing at the rumble of thunder - a tiger's warning snarl. Like separating squabbling siblings, it did little to stop the tension wrought upon every enemy face, it only created an uncrossable barrier, one the other clans preferred to turn their backs to rather than attempt to cross. He watched as, one by one, the other clans called their warriors off, not without withering words of affirmation that their clans were in the right. Silversmoke's judicial glare would not be enough to convince them otherwise, but a slither of him hoped it would.

Silversmoke turned his head to Cherryblossom, the Deputy's call the only thing that stopped him from breathing his opinion with unsheathed claws and venom-drenched fangs. His chest rose and fell with the fury of a fighter, his lashing tail the only outlet he had for the energy within his bones that told him to jump into the long-gone fray. "Let's go," he urged his apprentice, voice hushed against the whisper of the wind. "SkyClan's had enough of this farce."
 
The air is thick with tension even as Sunstar struggles atop the Great Rock. A small hum of sympathy looses from Orangestar despite herself at first, but brown eyes narrow at the context Sunstar gives for the loss of three warriors. Orangestar thought that Sunstar might have been nobler, been above stealing prey from other Clans. Not even Sootstar had done such a thing. But he is not the only cat in the forest who had decided other Clans had more bountiful hunting grounds recently ...

Orangestar would later regret holding her tongue, intending to let the situation dissipate before announcing the generous pawful of apprentices joining SkyClan's hunters and her own sibling's kits who slumber in the nursery at home. The look she shoots Figfeather is a wordless attempt to silence her lead warrior, though the molly's indignant remark is lost among the murmurs and complaints that sweep through the crowd.

An impact echoes through the clearing and Orangestar blinks sharply as if struck herself. Irritation lines her meow of, "Oh for StarClan's sake."

By this stage, she feels that she shouldn't have expected anything else from Chilledstar. She would not say as much, not add pine-forest fuel to a raging fire where it is not necessary: but, she agrees somewhat with the WindClan medicine cat. A Gathering is not the time for this conflict to come to a head. Lichenstar adds her voice next, vapid and feather-light, to the argument, and ginger ears twitch forward with interest. WindClan had trespassed twice, broken the Code into pieces beneath their paws, and all this after RiverClan had housed them from the recent fires?

Her tail twitches, still seated but tensed in place, and she spares a look to Howlingstar. It's an inopportune moment; she does not, in her brief glance elsewhere, see the ShadowClan warrior claw at Wolfsong's ears. She does, however, hear Smogmaw's bellow, and Orangestar's attention returns to the base of the Rock just in time for the clearing to be bathed in darkness. The fur at the back of her neck prickles, standing on end, awaiting the lightning that does not come.

Orangestar exhales, slow. She doesn't have to look at the moon to know it's covered. The other leaders are quick to slip back into the night, though she does meet Sunstar's look with a questioning frown of her own.

"We'll share news at the border, then." Her meow is flat, though the slight rise of feline brows indicate an invitation in earnest to RiverClan's leader. Orangestar maintains she does not know Lichenstar particularly well, though this evening in particular has piqued her curiosity of her counterpart. Cherryblossom has already called their Clan to attention - she's proud as much as she is slightly affronted by the overstep - and as Orangestar descends, she adds her meow to the mix.

"SkyClan, stay together."

  • // briefly speaking to @lichenstar , leaving with skyclan unless stopped!
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    [ art by pin ]
  • ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | eight lives

    — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
    — single ; mentoring springpaw & ashpaw
    — speech is in #F18C47
    tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.


 
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The gathering descends into chaos before her eyes. A sharp shock of disbelief escapes her maw as Chilledstar smacks Sunstar across the head. As if inspired by their leader’s actions, Lilacfur somehow manages to do something even more shocking. Attacking not just a WindClan cat, but WindClan’s medicine cat. Fearing that an all out brawl might break loose she shoots up onto her paws and hovers over @Daisypaw , a growl sounding in her throat daring anyone to make a move towards them.

It is then with a holy, raging power darkened clouds roll over the moon. A chilling wind blows through the clearing sending a chill down her spine. With a bolt of thunder, a celestial snarl the clouds fade. A warning, the cats of the clans seem to immediately agree. Was that really a sign from StarClan? Figfeather blinks and looks to Orangestar, then to Dawnglare and Fireflyglow. Did they understand? Had StarClan expressed their displeasure?

Cherryblossom and Silversmoke rise and begin to leave the clearing. She hesitates for Orangestar to give the official order before looking at Daisypaw and nudging him gently. ”…That could’ve gotten bad.” Could she not even trust her apprentice to be safe at the gathering anymore? The sacred ground was suppose to be a place of peace, if StarClan was angry with them, she doesn’t blame them. ”…Lets go.”
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Lead Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Sire to Sangriapaw & Coffeepaw
    » Mentoring Daisypaw
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 

When Sunstar steps up to share his news the clans cry out in outrage. How dare WindClan they say Honorless and No better than Sootstar she hears murmured from the crowd around her ..prey stealing rogues. But Starlingheart cannot find it within herself to join in the chorus of angry voices, not when she remembers her own clan with desperate eyes and ribs showing as they headed for carrion-place while snow fell softly all around them. A funeral procession it may as well have been, a desperate act for cats who had been on the brink of starvation. She remembers how she had cried that night over the body of her brother as he ascended to the stars because of that desperation. The very same desperation that she is certain drives WindClan now. Their home burnt, their bellies empty because there is no prey to be found. Her clan should know the feeling.

When Chilledstar raises a paw and drags it across the WindClan leaders face, her eye widens in shock. Even her own brother, crazed as he was in those final days, had not dared such a thing. Violence in the place of their ancestors final resting place was unheard of and instantly her gaze darts skyward, to the moon that still shines so brilliantly in the sky and she cannot help but wonder, would all of ShadowClan be punished for this transgression? Her heart flutters painfully inside of her chest at the thought.

When Wolfsong speaks to her, the venom within his voice takes her aback. She cannot say she blames him, for she wonders the same thing and if the roles had been reversed surely she would be just as angry or upset. She opens her mouth to respond (though with what words, she struggles to find) but is spared having to when all of a sudden claws glint in the moonlight and gray fur flashes across her vision. She takes a step back, closer to ThunderClan's medicine cat @GENTLESTORM. As she watches the events unfold she finds herself rendered speechless. How had it come to this?

StarClan is swift in making their displeasure known. They summon clouds to cover the moon and in the distance, a rumble can be heard, as if the starry eyed cats themselves were all growling in unison. She squeezes her eye shut, a migraine forming at the forefront of her mind at the thought of how quickly this gathering had descended into madness. Others call out her sister's name, anger, disappointment lacing their words but Starlingheart says nothing. How is she supposed to react? She remembers that day she had come stumbling back into camp, her hind leg sliced open by that foul beast in the carrion place. Pitchstar had curled protectively around her, growled at anyone who had gotten close. How could she blame her sister for doing the same?

The mention of her past mate makes bile burn in her throat, the name mentioned making her blink hard as she struggles to not allow tears to come to her eyes. Would ShadowClan ever be free of the mistake she had made by placing so much of her trust in him? It seemed not, for he hung like a shadow over their clan. Granitepelt was their responsibility. We should have struck him down when we had the chance she thinks morbidly. "I-" She stars to say something but immediately takes it back, shaking her head with both sadness and disappointment. "Both my mother and-and my father are buried here" she says quietly to whoever is nearby "There should not- blood should not be spilled. Not here." Not where so manies loved ones had laid their heads for a final time. She lets out a deep, shuddering, sigh and then turns her gaze to Wolfsong and, in only a voice he could hear she quickly says "Meet me-meet at the border tomorrow? Sun-high.. There's-there's something I wish- something I wish to give to you." and then she turns away, to bump her sister softly on the shoulder because, for all her faults and for the chaos she had caused tonight, Starlingheart cannot find it within herself to be angry. Not at her. "Cmon, let's-let's go home" she says, her voice cracking and stuttering the only indication of the emotions that rage just below the surface.
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    STARLINGHEART SHADOWCLAN MEDICINE CAT; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO PITCHSTAR, CHITTERTONGUE, NIGHTSWARM, SKUNKTAIL, AND LILACFUR. MOTHER TO NETTLEPAW, FLINTWISH AND GHOSTMASK.
    A skinny she cat with short black and white fur littered with scars and one singular green eye.
    Easy in battle + has little to no formal battle training
 
StarClan please, show us mercy. The young tom silently prays, as his ears prick as Sharpshadow's voice reaches his ears. Foxtail doesn't reply to the other lead warrior, but he wasn't lying. WindClan could've asked for help— but it would've been up to Lichenstar if they shared prey with WindClan. And he feels certain it wouldn't have resulted in Bluepool's tragic death into the gorge.... The only clan to blame in this mess is WindClan.

Lichenstar speaks with dignity, and she doesn't allow Sunstar to smear her name any further. Unlike Chilledstar, whom dared to disturb the peace of the gathering, Lichenstar holds herself. Her words speak with no patience; no empathy. His leader has every right to defend her name— the only orders she made were to defend the code each clan agreed on! He gives her a silent nod as she finishes up with a tight, tense tone.

Please, let everyone settle down. He silently prays, as he hopes with that the next leader will make their announcements. But his ears twitch at a new voice— a voice from the crowd. A ShadowClanner, with long lilac fur, pushes through the crowd; ears pinned back and she spits venom in her words.... her yellow eyes locked onto Wolfsong. Foxtail's fur bristles as the ShadowClanner swipes her claws at WindClan's medicine cat, and the lead warrior cries out. "What do you think you're doing!" He knows he has no say over the ShadowClanner— he isn't happy with WindClan either, but you don't attack a medicine cat!

His heart races in his chest, and his olive green eyes immediately shift onto the night sky. His ears flatten to his skull as he watches clouds cloak the sky... It's too late now.

StarClan has spoken angrily— this gathering is over. He lets out a defeated sigh as he leaves the base of the great rock, padding to the group of RiverClanners. He presses his fur against Pebblepaw, whom he is certain is alarmed by how chaotic the gathering turned, before facing his clanmates. "RiverClan, g-gather! W-Wait for Lichenstar before we l-leave," He mews as his paws tremble.... she won't take too long. It's time to go home, and report the bad news to those who remain at camp.



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    credit to raphaelion (via da) for the artwork <3
  • Foxtail
    lead warrior
    20 moons
    warmhearted
    timid
    experience: trained
    backstory: [HYPERLINK]
    biography: [HYPERLINK]
    credit to meghan for the chibi <3
    cisgender male [he / him]
    eyes: green
    pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
    fur length: long
    parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)


 
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〕Well, this had escalated quickly. WindClan hadn't changed a bit, always the ones to play the victim whenever possible, even when they had blatantly disrespected the clan who had aided them in their time of need. Slate wants to claim that WindClan's actions against RiverClan and ShadowClan are abhorrent, but even then, he cannot guarantee that he would not do the same if he were in a similar position. It's hard to say what Slate would do, really, until the time comes when he himself has to make the call. For now, though, Slate still does not trust WindClan one bit. At least SkyClan did not share a border with them ( though that has not stopped them from being raided before ).

It seemed that Chilledstar had the guts to do what most other cats had always dreamt of doing; having a swat at the WindClan leader. "Huh!" He snorts out of surprise, but mostly amusement more than anything. More chaos ensues within the crowd commotion erupts out of the corner of his eye — Slate had not looked in time, but he now hears murmurings of a ShadowClanner striking WindClan's medicine cat. Was there going to be a full-fledged fight?

Before anything more could happen, though, darkness descends upon the trees and a harrowing rumble snarls from the rolling clouds. The quickness of the weather's arrival is no coincidence, at least not from what Slate has experienced before. StarClan sure was punctual, weren't they? Moments later, the gathering is quick to be dismissed by the leaders. "What a waste of time." I could be sleeping in my nest right now. That was exactly what he'd do when he got back to camp, once he and his clanmates got away from this madhouse. Maybe he'd stay up for a moment and chat with Orangestar about tonight's events, too. Speaking of the ginger-splashed leader, his yellow gaze drifts to her immediately — she does not look pleased in the slightest, nor does anybody else. Slate wonders if he should be thankful that the typical spew of clan happenings and misfortunes was cut short, but he supposes it's frustrating that Orangestar couldn't even make her announcements. Couldn't these ratbrains have waited until later to start hissing and spitting at one another? At least the journey to Fourtrees wouldn't have been completely for nothing that way.

Cherryblossom makes the call to leave, though Slate hesitates to move from his spot until he knows that Orangestar is making her departure from the Great Rock. It is her call, after all. Soon enough, she descends and Slate gets to his paws, padding toward the exit with his clanmates.
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  • ooc.
  • SLATE —— lead warrior of skyclan , mentoring coffeepaw ✦ penned by beatles
    cismale / he/him pronouns / 39 moons & ages every 1st
    single / bisexual & monogamous / closed to romance
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
    —— hard combat difficulty & weak to agile, quick fighters / will start fights, will kill if necessary

    "speech", thoughts, all opinions are ic
    biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
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    a scarred longhaired maine coon with amber eyes. a large, 20lb tom with thick locks of fur. his chest and underbelly is ruddy from sun exposure. notable scars decorate his face and his ears are both torn with one being folded over.
 
Emberpaw had followed along her mentor to the gathering, and she watched as the pre-chattering was typically peaceful. Those of different clans, bloodlines and pasts mingled and came along quickly. It was until Sunstar spoke and reprimanded Riverclan for defending their territory and excusing them for fault, when it was their warriors that broke the code. The scene makes her scoff under her breath of the three-legged hypocrite that stood on the Great Rock along with the others. Stories and the damage by Windclan caused to Skyclan made her feel no pity for the tom-cat especially when the deaths were the consequences of their own actions.

Her nose scrunches as eventually more drama comes forth and glances at her mentor, ”How embarrassing.” The old apprentice would state as soon a Shadowclan lead warrior attacked the Windclan medicine cat, and eventually the form of Silversmoke was standing protectively in front of her. The moon above was covered and erased from view, tension suffocating in manner as the voices of Orangestar and Cherryblossom quickly take action. A mental note would be forged that Windclan would always find blame in others and refuse to take consequence of their actions, following behind Silversmoke as she left with her clan.
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  • ooc.
  • GuTmMnL.png
    EMBERPAW ⋆ she / her / hers
    ✶ sh chocolate classic tabby w/ low white & amber-yellow eyes
    ✶ 10 moons old; ages the 15th monthly
    ✶ bisexual aromantic; currently single
    ✶ currently mentoring none; mentored by silversmoke
    ”speech”, thoughts, attacking
    ✶ all opinions are in character only
 

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.·:*¨༺🕷༻¨*:·. The night air is still thick with the days humidity, and the crowd of forest cats does nothing to aid its stifling atmosphere. Briarthorn finds a spot within her own clan rather quick, sharp hazel hues upturned to dance towards Sunstar first. Now this she would be interested in hearing. Two windclanners, dead at river-dripping claws- could it be a second trespassing patrol had been met with worse luck than the first had been at their marsh-laden border?
Sunstars voice is heavy, cracked, and the young warrior cannot say she doesn’t understand. The toms clan is starving, their home burned. Still, combat was combat, death was always going to be a risk- whether or not it was a punishment that fit the crime. An unfortunate situation all around, but not unpredictable. Spare for the rapid, hungry flicking of the girls pupils, her expression remains blank as the Windclan leader finishes his share. The gathered group of lead warriors and deputy-stand ins begins to stir, but only faintly. Then… then things take an interesting turn when her leader chimes in, tone taunting and mighty. A pitch forepaw lashes out, batting against Sunstar in the blink of an eye. The uproar explodes against the warriors ears, and she is mesmerized. The majority of the five that sit upon that star-touched rock are nothing but squabbling kittens, blessed with land and extra lives to spare. Smogmaw hollers something, and Briarthorn finally sweeps to her paws, uninterested in ending up squished in the clamor. She see’s Wolfsong step forward, there’s more yelling, more defending of morally gray actions trying to be painted in gold. Lilacfurs claws are flying now, and the lead warrior rips the Windclan medicine cats ear right open. It’s hard not to laugh then, even as Granitepelts name is thrown out into the air so callously, both out of shock and disbelief. How embarrassing. Striking a feline that shares half his head with the stars, on the sacred ground that Starlingheart announces her parents lie under. Everything falls dark, and the sky has become clouded and angry. This gathering was over. Briarthorn doesn’t need to wait for her leader's call to them, the young warrior is already slipping through the crowd like the shadow she was trained to be.



  • BRIARTHORN she/her, warrior of shadowclan, 12 moons.
    slender, lean-muscled black she-cat with sharp hazel eyes & large ears.
    daughter of Forestshade && Vulturemask ࿏ sister to Screechpaw && Sweetpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Noor@toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

Twitchbolt's pitchy tones joined the clamour, the tutting- he'd never seen anything like it, and he was surprised the rest of ShadowClan wasn't burrowing their faces in the dirt for the upset- it was awful, honestly, childish. He'd barely been born when the Great Battle had happened, but he'd never think about causing a repeat of the event that had caused StarClan to rise. Yet again, yet again, they had to step in on these grounds. The scruffy tom's eyes turned hard, his teeth grinded in an iron grip, and immediately wide eyes were glinting in the masked moonlight.

"Candorpaw," he called to his new apprentice, eyes wide, flashing- he found the young tom in the throng, and a kinked tail flicked protectively. "Stay close." Though his tremors were an unstoppable thing, his tone was steady, leaving no room for argument. As soon as Cherryblossom called out, as soon as Orangestar began her departure, Twitchbolt too began to stride away. Muttering began between all five Clans, all- except ShadowClan, probably- expressing profound disapproval.

"Let it b-be a lesson, Candorpaw. You can't trust a cat from another Clan completely." Muttered beneath his breath, meant only for his apprentice's ears.

\ talking to @CANDORPAW , leaving :3
penned by pin ✧
 
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things escalated quickly after she opened her mouth. anxiety crept up her spine, her lip curling to show off teeth, wordlessly defending herself before things got worse. like many others, she sticks close to her apprentice, @Adderpaw , narrowed eyes darting around the cluster of cats. she doubts anymore blood will spill tonight, but you can never be too sure, she’d be pissed if his first real battle was on such sacred grounds.

dominoes fell, growing in size until they reached the stars- the sky swirling in a pool of silver as hands descended below. leafhusk’s eyes widen in complete awe at the display, only shutting when fourtrees goes dark. when they open, she hears that things have quieted down, so she exhales; a faint cloud of air slipping through her lips.

leafhusk turns to the young tom, quickly checking him over before she turns to the great rock. he’s probably glad we’re leaving early. seeing that howlingstar calls for her clan, she flicks an ear, "hurry, now." then begins the short journey home.​
 
"FATE IS A SUNDRESS" ˚୭ .ೃ⁀➷ tags ── NERVOUSNESS HAS CURLED at the girl's stomach all evening. The trip to the Fourtrees, her embarrassment over smacking right into someone earlier, the unspoken tension that hangs heavy in the air. Dizzypaw has never felt herself an anxious being but it is palpable, the air tonight. She needs stay on edge.

Dizzypaw's apprehension keeps her wits about her as the talking points quickly delve into fighting. Through it all, she is left with a feeling of unrelenting empathy towards WindClan. Are they really suffering as Sunstar says? While, yes, RiverClan is well within their right to defend their territory (and Dizzypaw would always defend her clan outwardly), and that seems maybe a popular opinion... is it really alright to allow other cats starve to death? She judges that she doesn't know the full story, and she may never know that full story. She shouldn't feel sorry... but she does. She is yet immature, and maybe she will understand better the nuances of a cat-eat-cat world another day.

Curse her unrelenting empathy. Dizzypaw feels sick and frightened as darkness coats the moon and thunder crashes in the distance. StarClan is unhappy, she knows, and she is left with the bitter taste of unknowing in her jaw. Dizzypaw makes for Foxtail, heard calling their clan's cats over the din of chatter and displeasure; she does not realize how shaken she is by the turn of events until she stands by, awaiting RiverClan's next move.

What a pity her first Gathering turned out to be.