After the five Clans, the five leaves of the creeper vine, had been decided upon, Briar had slipped into the shadows with the few who would remain ShadowClanners. She was going to miss a lot of her old groupmates, namely Soot and Cicada, who had taken up leadership in WindClan and RiverClan respectively. She was at least glad to know that she had former allies in charge of these other territories and hoped that perhaps they could come to each other's aid when times got tough, but she knew she could not count on their kindness anymore. They were living together but separate and their friendships had been severed the very moment their once fortified group had been fractured. She wasn't sure she would be able to ensure that their three Clans could be friendly with one another, but she would do her part in making sure her cats stayed in the marshes. Blaise had suggested they uphold these Gatherings on the sacred ground where blood had been spilled once every full moon, naming Fourtrees neutral territory. She wondered what would become of the five groups a moon from now - would things still be a tense peace, or would five groups sharing such small hunting grounds cast the forest into violence and chaos?

Briar knew, for one, that she would not be leaving the swamplands. She'd not only lost nearly her entire forest, but she'd watched it be fractured into four other groups. Gone were the days that she could run freely across the moors, relax by the rivers, and hunt in the oak and pine forests for birds and squirrels. She was confined to her home, a land unforgiving and hard to live in - the smallest chunk of land with the least amount of prey. Perhaps she had done it to herself as punishment, for she blamed herself for the deaths of Amber and her other groupmates, and even the pine cats too. Living in ShadowClan territory was like her purgatory, and to go beyond it would be a harsh reminder of what she had done to herself, to those who chose to stay with her for whatever reason. Yet part of her still loved this place too for the memories and love she had fostered here.

Her paws were weary from the trek to and from Fourtrees, but when what was left of ShadowClan arrived back at their camp, Briar leaped atop the lichen-covered moss as she had just a quarter moon prior to declare war. "ShadowClan," she announced, standing hunched and defeated on what would now be dubbed the Clanrock. "Please gather around. We have much to discuss." She had some rules she wanted to put in place, and then... then they could talk about what had taken place at the Gathering.
( ) spring is... not quite sure what has just happened. the gathering had been quite overwhelming, if he's being honest. so many voices, so many scents he's used to labeling as hostile. he only barely was able to hear the calls as each new clan leader took a stand. now, he follows his clan back to their home, feeling discomfort and anxiety in every pawstep that he takes. the marsh group - shadowclan - is the only home he's ever known. these cats have been there for him even when his own parents hadn't been. his sister and himself have established trust in the group. he can't imagine leaving. but still, slinking back into the swamps with only a third, maybe less, of the cats he'd arrived with, is not a comforting thing to do.
as they arrive back in camp, the boy situates himself in a shadowy alcove of the clearing, golden eyes peering out to scan for his sister. as briar leaps to attention, a bolt of panic surges through him as he remembers the last time the woman had done this. shaking the thought from his mind, he turns his gaze to the queen, eyes curious and watchful.


After a few too-hard knocks to the head during the fighting that left him sprawled uncomfortably across the forest floor, Moongeist Beam has spent most of their time within the shelter of the marsh group’s camp. His ear has been ringing louder and more painfully than it usually does, and he simply hasn’t had the awareness to go any long distance, so he skipped out on the gathering. They wouldn’t have wanted to be there in their current state anyway, in case another fight broke out.

So when Briar calls the group to a discussion—calling them by a name that they’ve been informed is their group’s new name—the tabby drags themself sluggishly into a sitting position. He has to tilt his head to the side just to hear the leader better, but it works. "ShadowClan," they murmur to no one besides themself, fitting the name into their mouth with only a hint of distaste. It’s a bit on the nose, they think, but it’s better than, like, SkyClan. He doesn’t yet know what the names of the other groups are, though, so perhaps some fool truly has given one of the groups such an unfortunate name. With a wrinkle of his nose and a shake of his head, Moongeist Beam settles in to listen intently to the leader’s words.

Fire entered camp with a look of even heavier sadness than when they had left. So many cats she had grown up with had decided to join the newly formed other clans as if their group, Shadowclan, was nothing to them. She felt no anger, only hurt and heartbreak. She had done her best to hide her tears of loss on the way home, but it was clear that the split had impacted the molly deeply.

Once in camp, Briar lept onto her perch and called their new clan to a meeting. Her paws obeyed before her mind could really comprehend, but soon she found herself sitting near the front of the growing crowd. Fire's gaze looked around for any of her friends, any who had stayed, and waiting to see what it was Briar wanted to talk about.

*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ Flicker had watched with dismay as first Soot, then Cicada, then streams of her groupmates left them, betrayed them. She feels a sense of hurt and irritation she would not have expected, something that tugs sharply against the raw wound in her heart that still bleeds from Moth's death. She's more alone here than ever. She looks at Briar, wonders if she feels similarly.

ShadowClan. Flicker nods, sits below the Clanrock and gazes at their leader with glowing eyes. How strange to think that Soot will be doing this in the moors, Cicada at the river. Ember, of all cats, somewhere in the forest. She flicks her ear impatiently. Things have gone wrong, but she will not leave. She is as much a part of the marsh now as anyone. She is a member of ShadowClan.

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    ── It seems more like separating misbehaved children than truly addressing anything. Then again, misbehaved children don't generally go to the extent of killing each other, so it's a little worse than that, isn't it? Maybe it's meant to be the ghosts' attempt at preemptively quashing vendettas, except...well, they're a little late there, aren't they? People won't want revenge for the sake of an allegiance but for blood, for family and friends, and no matter how their "creeper vine" groups move forward, not everyone will. And even if this might solve issues of resources, Roseal doesn't think it will do much for overall peace.

    But nothing he's said has ever had an effect. He would just be shouting at himself in a cave, caught in his own echo and they in theirs. He would leave if it weren't for— if he hadn't—

    Rose clenches his jaw and stares at the ground.

  • n/a​
  • ──── surr'oseal'isme (roseal). he/him pronouns. roamer; goes where he pleases.
    ──── approximately thirty-eight months old; not entirely certain of his own age.
    ──── single & uninterested in any romantic attachments; possibly open for flings.
    ──── very tall, scarred albino with sharply-peaked ears and a bobbed, scruffy tail.​

  • unebebebebbebe.png
The war was over and done with. Blood had already been spilt atop the muddied ground, brutality witnessed by both those present, and the four grand oaks that crowned the scene, towering high beyond snarling faces and outstretched claws. The earth had lostened to the wailing cries, was generous enough to send ghosts to put a stop to it.

The smile he'd cracked at the news had been wry.

In all his years, has never heard such a thing. Nothing that transcended your usual tall - tale, that is. But when Sally had dragged herself home, a name dying out on her tongue— Toad. Her eyes were watering. Who was he to deny the word of his daughter?

Yes, it was all said and done now. And yet, it didn't truly feel like it was over.

The conclusion they had all come to- at Cicada's drawl, no less- had been quick, far too quick for him to truly follow. A further split. He'd found himself dumbstruck at the suggestion. Rain's move to the forest had been sudden, but this—.

And his haze had snapped to his daughter. Saw the way her eyes glimmered with interest, and then so suddenly darkened in hatred. It wasn't a good look on her.

The journey home had been dull, little more than a jumble of nonsense and static in his mind. So quickly, two groups had turned into five. So quickly, cats he had been fond of would be breaking off. It was the last time he could call Cicada a groupmate, and without so much as a goodbye.

A heavy breath is his only reply to Briar's call, the sigh drawn out of him as he rests his weary paws. He supposes he was a ShadowClan cat now. His jaw clenches with a strained frown.
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Betony rushes to meet Spring upon the group's return to camp.

She looks behind Spring, then back to him, a question nestled somewhere in the back of her throat. Would it be too obvious to ask where everyone was at? Would it be insensitive to ask if things went well, if so many were missing? But everyone appeared to be uninjured, so whatever meeting took place hadn't devolved into a battle.

Then Briar bounces her way onto the central stone, pelt dark against the nightsky, and Betony's attention is drawn towards her. ShadowClan, an unfamiliar word. Again, Betony wants to ask-- it would be so easy to ask, but doubt holds her tongue. Surely everything would be explained; or maybe it was something too simple to need an explanation, and Betony was the only one feeling lost. She sits besides Spring, tail folded over her paws, and an uncertain frown curving her mouth.

shadowclan apprentice | blue mackerel tabby | tags

Her own return is much later, after much of the cats have already come back from that gathering and have seated themselves before Briar. She had left the gathering earlier than most have. Pained and hating everything about it. The torn unity and family all the more present as she gazes at who remains from that place. Her eyes are rimmed with what may have been tears but she is quiet as she makes her way towards the gathered grouping of cats. Her eyes narrow slightly and she sits down before curling her tail around her paws. Nothing. There is nothing to say about anything that has happened and she is just tired. She wants to go to sleep and she sighs before looking away from her sister and towards the ground. Whatever will be said it will just be about their new life as this Shadowclan and changes. More and more changes.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ She drifts, ghostlike, towards her groupmates. At first she does not see what their necks are craned towards--Briar, like flowers facing the sun, upon the tall rock where she makes announcements and gives orders. Fear grips her heart, seizes it and shakes it. Had the meeting not gone well? She hadn't bothered to go, could not care, instead huddled inside a den and cuddled around a stale bit of moss Ash had used for a bed.

Was Briar calling for war again?

The black and white queen visibly sags against the nearest cat--it happens to be Bone. "I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I don't understand... did... did things go badly?"

A murmur catches her ear. ShadowClan. Clans. This means nothing to her. Dazed leafmold eyes find Briar again, and she quiets and waits.
A confused murmur sweeps over the crowd, whispers echoing through the moonlit camp from those who had not accompanied her to Fourtrees. She was glad some of them stayed behind, because she fears she would have lost more Clanmates if they'd all gone. Her dull gaze finds Twilight as the queen is the first to voice the concerns she and the others who stayed behind must have. "Not... badly, per se," Briar assures, but she doesn't exactly consider the prophecy's fulfillment a good thing either. "We deciphered the prophecy - spread and grow like the creeper vine. The ghosts wanted us to split into five groups, like the five leaves. We in the marshes are now ShadowClan, the moors are now led by Soot and go by WindClan, Cicada took the riverlands and dubbed it RiverClan. A tom from the pine group renamed the pine forest SkyClan, and another one of their she-cats staked her claim over the oak forest and called it ThunderClan."

Briar sighed slightly. "So, not good news. We lost most of our hunting grounds tonight. And most importantly, we lost some of our friends who split off to join the other groups. But... at least we have the marshes and at least no one else died or got hurt," she said. She looked visibly defeated standing atop the Clanrock, shoulders sagged and head drooping.

"Which brings us down to business. First of all, we've lost many valuable hunters and fighters. We lost a queen and her kits. Soot was bringing us the next generation of marsh group cats... and now that isn't happening, so... frankly, we could use a few new members," Briar said. More members were more mouths to feed, but with four other groups lurking about, and unsure of her stance with any of them, it was best to have extra defenses, extra cats available to protect the marshes if necessary. "I'll be allowing any loners to join our ranks for two weeks. After that point, I'm closing our borders. And of course, I have an absolute zero kittypet policy. If you find one lurking on our territory, whether they be from SkyClan or ThunderClan or the Twolegplace itself, I want them chased out. Chase anyone out for that matter if they affiliate themselves with one of the four other groups. The marshes are ours and we already got a shitty deal as it is with our prey supply. If it isn't a loner looking to join... give them a few scratches to think about and send them on their way."

She paused to let her words sink in before continuing. It was important that they protected what little land they had. Frogs and lizards were all their palate would get to taste from now on - and it was few and far between as it was. "I've decided not to hold any grudges against those who have decided to leave the marshes. After all, they are only obeying the prophecy we were given. However, they have chosen different paths and they are no longer our friends. No longer our mates. No longer our children. They have a new family now and it would be best if we stay away from them and vice versa." She hoped with all that had happened, she wouldn't need to threaten consequences, so she left it out for now. Things were already tense, but those in violation could expect to be punished if she ever found out.

"Also, everyone needs to pull their weight. I don't want any slackers. Everyone does something every day - hunting, patroling, mending things in camp... something productive. I've been lenient on this in the past but no more. We have four other groups to compete against for food and supplies, so if you don't work, you don't eat and you don't get to live in the marshes. I will throw you out,"
she said, her eyes hardening. She had no time to appease those who wanted to sunbathe all day and get fat on the frogs that someone else brought back to the pile. She trusted these cats would get themselves into shape and start pulling their weight if they weren't already but the reminder remained.

That was that. It was all she had for now and now they could discuss the prophecy, the way things would work around here, whatever anyone chose. "Meeting dismissed. Does anyone have any questions? Any concerns?"



Did Black have any concerns? Yeah, he definitnely did. This entire thing made his fur want to bristle in frustration. They'd lost the majority of their territory, had suffered heavy losses in their numbers, and were being ordered around by ghosts! The entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion, but what could they do? They no longer had the strength to take things back by force, not with their group fractured like this.

Shadowclan. That was to be their groups new name?

He sighed slightly, irritation flashing within pale green eyes. He didn't speak out though, because what was there to say? No point in yelling just to yell- not when it wouldn't change anything. Besides, at the end of the day these marshes were his home, and he trusted Briar. He agreed that they should be protecting what they had left with vehemence, and he'd be flexing his claws on any other clancat stupid enough to come creeping around their territory. ​

tom - 10 months - shadowclan apprentice - homosexual - polyromantic - single