GIFT HORSE ↷ GATHERING [02/15/24]

[smogstar]

On this night, Chilledstar's absence shall dim ShadowClan's presence at the gathering. In their stead plods Smogmaw, who staunches his unease in stride. The visceral tide of sludge and slush, caked onto his fur from the ankles down, renders every step leaden. Still, this outer discomfort fades against the torrent within. It is a rare occasion for him to stand tall, a chance to display ShadowClan's resilience undiminished. Crowds, though, have an insidious habit of draining him long before proceedings so much as begin. The mottling of skeletal branches cast over the night sky looms more as twisted talons overhead than shelter, and the oaks' sway conveys a sense that all here have a single mind in waiting. All watching, and baring impatient fangs.

Jaws grit against such delusions, and paws trudge onward towards the Great Rock jutting at the gathering's centre stage. An attempt is made to fortify his resolve by recalling the moons he has spent craving this role, to share the esteemed space with the other clans' leaders, and to hold court among them, even temporarily. Still, anxiety bites deeper than his own aspirations, leaving him a tad disoriented; a rear paw loses its purchase when he ascends the boulder, forcing him to scrabble gracelessly to his destination.

One by one do the leaders arrive, all turning beady gazes to him. Breaths emerge deep yet offer no respite. "Greetings, all," Smogmaw hails them and the audience below. He clears his throat from phlegm thick and stubborn, then continues. "I will be representing ShadowClan tonight. Chilledstar's back in our swamp, recovering from fatal injuries they'd gotten from a rogue's paws. Stand with me in the hopes that they'll recover, strong and healthy, sooner than later."

A sniffle parts the deputy's words, and for a second time, his throat clears noisily. His gaze wanes down to his muddy forepaws for a fleeting moment. "Let this be a reminder of the threat posed by rogues. For moons has ShadowClan suffered the trespass of their kind, and there's a select group of 'em who've conspired bloodshed against us. Since the last gathering, their crooked claws have stolen the life of Nettlepaw, who was just eight moons old." Brows arch in sympathy, for the medicine cat who has lost too much already, and for the apprentice whose future is but a ghost in the wind. "We will not allow a tragedy like this to pass unanswered or forgotten. Should anyone hold insight to the whereabouts of Granitepelt, Siltcloud, or Ghostpaw - who we've firm reason to believe are responsible - do my clan the justice of coming forward! Or, bring their pelts directly to our border, and we'll thank you tenfold for it." A sigh slips then, heavy like mist over a stagnant mire.

"The uninvited guests on our lands go beyond rogues. A warrior of ours, Roosterstrut, was plucked from where he stood seemingly by twoleg paws- er, whatever they're called." Amber eyes waft their focus onto SkyClan's new leader. Though he is enthused to learn a past comrade has risen to new heights, the formalities will have to come at a later point in time. "I ask SkyClan to be vigilant on its outings near Twolegplace. If any of your warriors come across a meek, conscience-stricken orange tabby, please help Roosterstrut find his way home."

That's the end of the bleak tidings. Shoulderblades squared and muzzle angled with coaxed confidence, Smogmaw conveys as much conviction and composure his apprehensive state would permit. Promotions, newly-admitted warriors, apprentices, and all the like flow past him with a palatable ease. A summary of this moon's past meeting. "Moving on, a couple'a moons ago, three cats appeared on ShadowClan's border. The progeny of Skunktail; blood relatives to our clan's first leader, Briarstar. This bloodline has long coursed through our swamp, and we are proud to welcome Pipitclaw, Hawkstride, and Snipe[ENTER SUFFIX] into our fold."

Smogmaw's tongue sweeps over his jowls. In lieu of his disdain for the perpetuation of such dynasties, his commitment to upholding clan-wide trust overrules his own unsavoury judgements on heritage. Plus, with seven offspring to his name, four whom neared warrior status, harbouring reservations at this point would reflect poorly on his impartiality. Right, on that note: "A lotta apprentices join our ranks this moon. Bloodpaw, Snowypaw, Shadepaw, Swallowpaw, Singepaw, Bonepaw, and Sneezepaw. They will aim high and do our clan proud. Also, Honeypaw has well proven her merit and joins her warrior brethren as Honeymoon."

For the first time, his sightline lowers and scours the crowd from the side. Cat upon cat, the countless eyes beneath make for a stupefying amalgam. Shadows cling to the congregation, all eerily still yet for their gaze alone which gleams haunting. He cannot single out his apprentices, Bloodpaw and Ashenpaw, nor the three lead warriors whom he wishes to name next. A blink, two, and eyes return ahead, his posture straining for more substance than there is beneath his fur. "Finally, there are three new lead warriors here with us tonight. Sharpshadow, Forestshade, and Lilacfur. All three carry untold grit, backbone, and devotion to ShadowClan; qualities which will secure the wellbeing of our clan moving forward."

A forepaw drags unchecked over the rock's surface before pausing in thought, allowing a second of respite from words that pass his lips mechanically. "That is all from ShadowClan, 'nless I - ahem - remember anything I missed."

He gives the next speaker a solemn nod. After much time, and many more announcements, the ShadowClan deputy feels at ease.​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

Sharpshadow has known that someday, this was bound to happen. Chilledstar would not always be here to be impassive and unmoving. To sniff at the other clans' leaders with indifference in cold blue hues. One day, sleek shoulders atop the rock would be staunch and wide, dark - striped with auburn eyes that somehow burned brighter than the blue of Chilledstar's very name could even manage. One day soon, she dares to think, given ShadowClan's track record; one stained by – what was it — twenty - two or so splatters of blood. She knew this, and yet it's still surreal to glimpse her former mentor standing tall atop the stone.

It's strangely polite, is what it was. Or as polite as his claws - against - stone voice could allow him to be. Stand with me in the hopes that they'll recover, strong and healthy, sooner than later. Sharpshadow finds his gaze flickering across the cats huddled before Fourtrees. None of them would do such a thing, she thinks. None of them were obligated to. WindClan would have forgone such a thing entirely, claiming that nothing was wrong, that nothing has happened, she bets. She wonders if Sunstride — Sunstar, would be any different in that regard. Prickles of midnight fur keep him from being a simple shadow in the crowd. He lowers his head at the mention of Nettlepaw. They needed to be rid of them. Of all of them.

News is shared, and Sharpshadow watched as the deputies face peers into the crowd. Sharpshadow finds himself shrinking away, as if Smogmaw has not seen plenty of him, already.

It's ... a lot. The weight of his words, and undoubtedly hyperbolized. Untold grit, backbone, and devotion. Sharpshadow stares despairingly. She wishes all of that was true. She wants all of that to be true. Did Smogmaw truly think she was any of that? Surely, he of all cats has spent long enough with her to know it is a lie... Sharpshadow finds herself trying to find his gaze, even if he was far, far too high up.

And no... he wasn't out of place. He's good at this, regretfully, he thinks.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

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  SHARPSHADOW: he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms ; 20 moons old as of 2.13.24 ; ages every 8th
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others.
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

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[Orangestar]

It's her first time atop the Great Rock. In all her thirteen moons as deputy, Orangestar had never had to fill in for Blazestar; never expected to stand before the Clans and announce SkyClan's news to the forest. It's an alien, dizzying experience that compares only to the vertigo she'd felt when ascending to Highbranch the first time with eyes and whispers following her every movement. The Clans would know by now that something is wrong, but Orangestar tries to maintain a neutral expression.

At least she can pretend it's not so scary as Smogmaw addresses the Clans. Orangestar has no quarrel with ShadowClan, despite a general bleakness she recalls from the journey. She listens attentively, ears pricked, and nods a wordless confirmation as orange eyes glance her way. SkyClan would watch for this Roosterstrut of theirs; there would be no harm in it, and it wouldn't be the first time SkyClan had been tasked with such a thing.

More eyes turn to her as Smogmaw retreats, and with a small jolt Orangestar realises it's become her turn to speak. Her posture is rigid as she steps forward, as if tensing every muscle would compensate for her nerves. How did Blazestar do this, moon after moon? It must get easier with time.

"Cats of the Clans, I stand before you this evening as SkyClan's leader. Blazestar lost his final life a half moon ago, to a cat since identified as a rogue WindClanner." Orangestar remembers Harrierstripe's name; but she does not think him worthy of the Clans' consideration. If she had anything to do with it, he would forever go unnamed; a forgotten stain on the Clans' shared history. Brown eyes slide sideways, resting pointedly on Sunstar. He should be thankful she doesn't blame his Clan outright, takes him at his word that he had been one of Sootstar's ousted followers. "I have been named Orangestar and accepted by StarClan in the time since. Joining me tonight is my deputy, Twitchbolt-" she lifts her chin once more and gestures to the bicoloured tom seated at the base of the stone with (most of) his equals- "and a new member of my council, Dogbite.

"Hollywhisper and Dustorm, both of whom are in attendance tonight, have been named as SkyClan's new warriors. Do congratulate them, if you pass by." Orangestar curls her tail around her paws, looking a little more comfortable with the heaviest parts of her news out of the way. Yet every word she meows feels stilted, uncomfortable. Awkward. "Fantastream and Figfeather have also welcomed their kits, Coffeekit and Sangriakit, into our Clan." All we can hope is that they'll remain safe until at least their sixth moon. The trek between Twolegplace and camp is not an arduous one, but Smogmaw's news admittedly has her on edge.

"After a patrol of SkyClanners was attacked by rogues last moon, we have managed to drive them from our borders and have not seen them since. I don't believe them to be connected to ShadowClan's problem-" She nods again to Smogmaw- "but we urge caution in turn. They have no respect for scent markers or prey, and as you all know, have attacked four-moon-old apprentices."

Orangestar rises once more, regarding the cats below with her usual frown, and returns to the line of leaders with a parting comment of, "I believe that's all from us."

ooc ✧ 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦

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  ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | nine lives
  " a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  
  — single ; mentoring springpaw
  — speech is in #E3B2A9
  — tags | art by pin
  

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[Moonwhisper]

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Her stomach had been in knots since they got here and she wasn’t sure why. Bad prey? Ambient anxiety over something? Grief still from the loss of Berryheart still so fresh in her mind? Moonwhisper didn’t know, she was distracted in her idleness as she scuffed her paws as she sat next to Lightstrike and ignored everyone else around her. Briefly her blue gaze lingered over the leader rock, spotting Orangeblossom there where her father normally stood but she thought little of it. Chilledstar was also not present, Smogmaw and a white tom whose name she didn’t know representing ShadowClan and even RiverClan was missing their deputy as well. None of this caught her attention as being particularly worth caring about until the SkyClan molly began to speak.

She almost misses it, it is not lingered on long and spoken with the same calm nonchalance of every other shared announcement. Orangestar. Her ears flick upward, lower suddenly flat to her skull. Blazestar died half a moon ago. Her father was gone, SkyClan’s founder gone, the kittypet king gone, she should feel nothing. She had long since denounced him, rejected her family across the border and lived her life content in ThunderClan without a second thought but a pressure begins to build in her chest at the realization, she feels her fur prickle with unease and stands suddenly with stiff limbs, “What?” It’s quiet at first, almost a whisper - like her name.
Disbelief, horror, was it sorrow? She could not determine the exact sensation racing through her veins but it made her feel sick. Nine lives gone already? It felt as if she could close her eyes and she was a kitten in the nursery alongside all three of her siblings like it was yesterday, Little Wolf’s gentle voice reminding them to behave, that they would be visiting SkyClan later to see their father but only if they were good. She had always been good.
“Can we go?” Her creamy white and spotted fur brushed against Lightstrike’s side in a sharp nudge, urging him to his paws, “Please, can we leave.” Maybe not walk all the way back alone, that was hardly safe, but she had to get out of this clearing within the trees, this cage locking her in place with her feelings. Her belly twisted again, nausea rising in her throat and without waiting to see if she followed she was quickly stalking to the edge of the gathering, moving to where she could break away from fourtrees and shoving every cat who didn’t get out of her way fast enough aside.

☾ break all the rules - live like a queen or die like a fool ☽ —— do you care what they think

• Ooc - Interacting w/ @LIGHTSTRIKE .
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  Moonwhisper
  —⊰⋅ Warrior of ThunderClan
  —⊰⋅ She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ LH Tortiseshell point w/ice blue eyes
  

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[HOWLINGSTAR]

Howlingstar watches as Smogmaw is the last to climb to the rock, her curious eyes lingering on his form. Grief grips her gaze from the news of Blazestar that the newly named Orangestar had uttered to her moments before. Is Chilledstar gone, too? Are all of the old leaders she had grown to respect and befriend in the stars? But no, the ShadowClan deputy confirms that Chilledstar is merely in camp recovering from a fatal injury. They've lost a life, then, She thinks with a frown. She listens on, ears twitching to hear about the rogue problem and stolen warrior. It reminds her of Sunfreckle's kidnapping - he had been fortunate enough to escape, though. Will Roosterstrut?

After the news of new lead warriors and new apprentices and a brand new warrior, Orangestar steps up to the front of the rock. Howlingstar's muzzle dips to the ground in mourning as she tells the rest of the cats present what she already knows. Blazestar is dead. He friend is dead. The father of her grandchildren is dead. He'd been her strongest ally in the forest, and his loss shakes her to her core. At least he is with Morningpaw, now. She closes her eyes to listen to the rest of the news, still numb. Briefly, she lifts her gaze to the crowd, searching for Moonwhisper and Skyclaw and Duskbird. Burnstorm had stayed home, she knows, but the rest of Blazestar's ThunderClan kits are here. Sympathy swims in her eyes as she focuses on Moonwhisper for a moment before realizing she must speak now.

Howlingstar forces strength into her paws as she strides to the front of the Great Rock and makes herself stand tall. "ThunderClan has gone through many changes over the last moon. Flycatcher has made the decision to step down from his position as deputy, but he still sits on my council as a lead warrior. In his place, I have named Flamewhisker my new deputy." She nods downward towards the fiery-furred she-cat at the base of the boulder. She pauses, drawing in a long breath before continuing, "Berryheart...my son and medicine cat...has joined StarClan. His apprentice, Hailstorm, has received his medicine cat ceremony at the Moonstone, and is now called Gentlestorm." She has to stop again, tongue feeling dry in her mouth as she relays the news to the other four clans.

"We have two new warriors this moon: Shinebug and Acornwish. Fallowpaw, our missing apprentice, has returned to us, and with her we welcome her littermates into our ranks: Antlerpaw, Doepaw, and Fawnpaw, who will be mentored by myself, Wolfwind, and Wildheart, respectively. I know you all have had your fair share of problems, but I urge you to keep an eye out for a rogue called Baying Hound. She is their mother, and she is dangerous. I highly advise you chase her out if she comes near your borders." She blinks and dips her head before backing up, awaiting Sunstar or Smokestar's announcements.​

 

[SUNSTAR]

The last time his paws had touched this blackened stone, the clans beneath him had snarled like dogs against his paws. Blood had nearly spilled this night, and so too does it threaten to overflow again. Back and forth, a subtle sweep across the soot-stain. Beneath StarClan's watchful gaze, the tom's auburn fur is darkened to blood-rust and lightened to moon-glow. His eyes, unblinking, scan the crowd and the leaders that speak in cyclical motions that betray more anxiety than he had ever shown before. This time is different than the others. Each journey he had taken on the path to Fourtrees had been shadowed by Sootstar. Whether her presence was among the cats that accompanied him or not, she was always there. In the hungry gaze of her loyalists, in the threats he carried upon his tongue.

Once, Sunstar had been proud to be among her council. Now, he is most proud to be the end of it. (Again, he presses his paw against the blackened rock, and his claws glint softly in the moonlight as he digs them in. As if he could shred this mark from where he stood. Strength alone would not cleanse him.)

Blazestar is dead. Chilledstar has lost a life. An apprentice, a medicine cat — how many more? He stiffens, half a step taken towards Orangeblossom, no, Orangestar, as she shares her news before all the clans. Not to him. She had not thought to tell him then, that Harrierstripe had done more than injure the tom? That night within StarClan's forest, pleading for a path. It had been him, not a projection, not a dream. A true piece of StarClan, and he had not realized it to be the loss that it was. Nor the blessing that it was, to be granted an audience by the tom he had once stood brazenly against. His gaze is wild, his shoulders prickling with anxiety as he looks upon the molly. Every once of him wants to demand answers. He cannot take what will not be given. In one long moment, he settles.

Steps back towards his stained place of honor, and exhales. "I mourn the losses that we have all experienced in the last moon. WindClan has not come unscathed. I have stood at each of your borders and shared this tale before, but I say it once more before StarClan, and all that have gathered beneath them tonight: Sootstar is dead, and those that remain of her followers have fled." A glance to Orangestar, to Smogmaw. "Granitepelt, an exile of ShadowClan and former warrior of WindClan beneath Sootstar's rule, is at their head. We do not know of their whereabouts, or what they have planned, but our patrols remain ready should they return." And he knows with terrible certainty that they will do so, in time.

"For now, we flourish once more within our home. I have stood before StarClan and been named Sunstar. Rattleheart and Periwinklebreeze now stand beside Bluepool and Scorchstreak within my council, and we have many others to celebrate! Scorchstorm, Redheart, Heathermoon, and Whitedawn have earned their names this moon, and we have welcomed Lavenderpaw to our clan." With glowing pride, he looks down upon the young cats that had joined him at this gathering tonight, his own former apprentice among them. What he would give to wax more about their accomplishments, but they are not here to boast of what they have done together, and this time of mourning could not be chased away so easily.

He does not mention Badgermoon, Curlewnose, or Sedgepounce. Their returns are too fresh, the wounds too open. And they would bring only more questions than he can answer. The burnished tom nods to the other leaders, and settles his gaze upon Smokestar. "That is all from WindClan."

⋆°•☁︎ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝗕𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃  ╱╱ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝗕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝗕𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 〚 02.11.2024 〛 𖤓

• OOC. —
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  SUNSTAR. LEADER OF WINDCLAN.   ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, MOUNTAIN CATS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING RIVEPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ A LARGE, FRESHLY SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS BLUE EYES

• "speech"

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[Fireflyglow]

The news of his father's death still stings like a fresh wound, Fireflypaw scooting closer to Dawnglare almost instinctively. He wondered, would his siblings be happy that Blazestar is gone? Would they be able to move on with their lives, for they had denounced their father before StarClan? There is a bitterness inside of him that rots and decays the longer he ponders over it. He doesn't notice his sister shoving another warrior, pushing her way past other cats in an attempt to flee the gathering. He doesn't see the look of panic, the feeling of grief that ebbs away at her body as she backs away. He doesn't even notice her, thanks to his blindness. He is unhelpfully unaware to the suffering of his siblings as he stares owlishly wide at the crowd before him, tail draped over his paws.

RiverClan was next, and as he waited, his eyes trailed upwards as his head tilted back at an awkward angle, staring with ghostly blue eyes towards the direction of Orangestar's voice. She had done well, now he hoped they could go home in peace.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 19 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

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How odd to see Smogmaw on the rock, Chilledstar had never missed a gathering in his moons attending them and briefly he assumed the worst when he saw that Orangeblossom was also perched on the stone; his worries of both were answered in swift succession - Chilledstar lived, Blazestar did not. There is a tightness in his jaw as he clenches it at the news of the ginger leader's fate.

Smogmaw and Orangeblos-Orangestar's words on rogues brings to mind the recent incidents at the border that had cost RiverClan so heavily and he grimaces as he briefly makes eye contact with Sunstar before lifting his head to speak.
"RiverClan mourns to loss of Lightningstone and his daughter Oxbowpaw to rogues as well, like Orangestar I urge you to remain vigilant as newleaf approachs - their desperation only increases it seems." He would not divulge this was one specific group of rogues as that was hardly another clan's business, but he would share his worries of what had happened aside from the deaths of his clanmates, "We also believe they stole a kitten and ask you to keep your eyes open for signs of her. Her name is Shellkit, she's small, curly furred and lilac in color." The dark leader swallows the heavy lump in his throat, single eye betraying his unease - having a kit loss was almost as tragic as losing a cat outright. They were so small and vulnerable that death was almost assured for them when they wandered too far.
"In lighter news I bring onto my council a young tom who aided the clans in their journey, who has proved himself time and time again; Ferngill. He will do RiverClan proud." It was strange how he had added two of said cats to his council now, but that journey had proven loyalty beyond words or any other action could possibly give.
"Two new warriors also join our ranks though one was injured alongside my deputy who was also wounded during an altercation at the border, nonetheless I want to acknowledge Robinheart for bravery and Brookstorm, Lightningstone's remaining kit trained by Lichentail who we deemed loyal and dedicated enough to be promoted early." She was the last of her family, mother taken long ago, brother killed reclaiming their camp, father and sister lost to rogues; he could not even begin to comprehend the young molly's grief. He touches on Lichentail only briefly in the hopes that Snakeblink has not told anyone she's died to be ridiculous again.
"Several apprentices join us tonight for their first time at the gathering, Turtlepaw, Minkpaw, Wavepaw and Duckpaw. I hope you have treated them kindly." And he hoped Turtlepaw has not run headlong into anyone yet.
Briefly Smokestar considers again mentioning the rogues, but shrugs the thought off - RiverClan would deal with RiverClan problems.

"We will mourn the loss of Blazestar, founder of SkyClan and an honorable tom and Berryheart as well, to lose a medicine cat and especially kin is a tragedy I would not wish on anyone and you have my condolences." His lips curl, "But when I tell you I feel nothing but relief in hearing confirmed Sootstar's fate before the clans."
There it was. Confirmation fully of what he was informed of at the border. Truth be told he had dismissed it entirely at first, what did the pretty words of a single cat mean without proof yet now here he stood claiming his new name and lives before all of the clans; he found it hard to believe it was a lie now, even his predecessor would not have been so bold.
He eyes Sunstar up with skepticism and a sneer, "...StarClan may have given you lives, but they also gave them to Sootstar. There mere act of being accepted proves to us nothing. RiverClan will not forget how your clan curled under her claws and committed such horrors in her name, let us hope you do not follow the same path because I promise the forest will not remain silent a second time. I hope you prove worthy, Sunstar." It was the closest he would get to acknowledging the possibility that the moorland cats would move to a less treacherous future; but his warning lingered in the air like his breath swilling in cold clouds with every word.
It took that long for them to act, at what point was it too far? It certainly wasn't when they raided SkyClan, nor attacked his own clan's temporary camp in the beech copse in the dead of night. Smokestar would not be giving them even a sliver of recognition until proven otherwise, let them not act fools for a season or two and then they could discuss putting the past behind them, but no sooner.
"If there are no further announcements to be made then let this gathering come to a close. May the stars light your path on your return to your camps." He gives an involuntary shudder as the wind picks up, "May newleaf hasten its return."

✘ I've got a reputation and a name to uphold. ✘ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

• OOC can go here.
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  Smokestar
  —⊰⋅ Leader of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

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[RATTLEHEART]

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — It was strange, seeing so many vaguely unfamiliar faces atop the Great Rock, looking down at the crowd of them with expressions of mixed pride and apprehension. Change wasn't inherently a bad thing, but it still filled her with a sense of unease that she couldn't shake - even as she sat quietly alongside those all around her, eyes intensely focused on all the leaders - and their stand-ins. Though her attention was mainly concentrated on Sunstar alone, wondering how he was feeling about being up there. Rubbing shoulders with cats that had only a few moons ago been spitting vitriol at him over Sootstar's actions. She had to imagine it was incredibly difficult, only hoping that he wouldn't end up cracking under the pressure.

She didn't see that being likely, but she hadn't exactly seen Sootstar's fall being likely once upon a time, either.

Smogmaw's words and the news of Shadowclan mostly went in one ear and out the other, though the mention of rogues did cause a temporary tightness to take up residence in her chest. Was it the same rogues that they were worried about dealing with, or was there some kind of horrible epidemic passing through each of their territories? She wasn't given much time to dwell though, as Orangeblossom stepped up next. Or rather, as Rattleheart realized with a start, Orangestar stepped up next. Much like Moonwhisper, she found that she could only utter one word at the news, confusion gleaming in her pale green eyes. "What?" Her own voice rang out like a shout in her own mind, though she knew in reality it was only loud enough to be heard by the cats right beside her petite form. The revelation from the Skyclan leader felt impossible, even though the news of Harrierstripe's crimes had already reached Windclan as a whole. Though him being the cause of Blazestar's death was something wholly new to seemingly all of them.

The rest of the announcements went by in a blur, although she was at least conscious enough to raise her head up when her name was called alongside the other cats of Sunstar's council. There was still a gleam of pride there inside of her, even if it was dampened by Orangestar's voice still ringing in her head. She even nearly missed the entirety of Smokestar's announcements, up until his harsh words and cruel sneer forced her back down into her form and out of the clouds. Rattleheart's ears flattened almost immediately at his tone, though she found herself amused by the irony of what he had to say. Sootstar made have been a mad, bloodthirsty leader, but his own predecessor was hardly all that much better. They were all better off without the both of them, at least in her mind.

It was undeniably a relief when his words finally came to an end, her slim form twisting as she turned to join her clanmates in returning home.

THE RIGHTEOUS HAND OF GOD 𓆩♡𓆪 THE DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT

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  ❥ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
  ❥ 48 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ❥ afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
  ❥ homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
  ❥ sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
  ❥ currently mentoring downypaw
  ❥ somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ❥ all opinions are ic

​

 

[smogstar]

A deciding sun has set over the clans' maiden age, and a moon has lifted into its auspicious place. This is much less a paradigm shift as it is a total reconfiguration; the last of the proverbial torch-bearers, who'd proclaimed their legitimacy as leaders and staked territorial claims for their new clans, have gone to their eternal rests.

Smogmaw once fancied this day as a distant dream, never to arrive. When two powers compete, one will prevail, or both shall shatter. From the colonies' ashes arose five clans, competing powers in their own right, inheritors and agitators to a legacy bigger than themselves. With it delegated to three more factions, what power existed was doomed to stretch thin with time. It was ordained in his mind to unfold in such a manner. But, no. The clan experiment has completed the first round of its trial run - to massive success, no less - as new leaders assume command and pave paths to an undistinguished future.

The tom's dark-striped tail sweeps across the Great Rock. Contemplation finds a safe harbour between his knitted brows, with chin sailing from leader-to-leader while they speak their pieces and lay forth their terms. There's a thaw to the ice in his glare when Orangestar, whom he regarded with distant favour, divulges all that has led to her being here. WindClan claws slew her predecessor, and Smogmaw must wonder if vengeful fumes tainted the winds from where the kittypet prince fell. Everybody needs a good scapegoat or two, and should SkyClan ever require motivation for conflict, Blazestar will make one hell of a martyr.

Howlingstar is the only feline well-familiarised with this rock. He looks to her next, affording a nod only when it's disclosed that a new second-in-command stands in Flycatcher's previous station. Flamewhisker. The deputy is partial to familiar faces rising to influential positions, no matter what clan; this molly, particularly, was once a ward to a shared goal, and through the fog and gnashing canine jaws had that goal been met. Her merit is unquestionable, and he looks forward to the day they might convene as equals.

An expectant glance from amber eyes seeks out the rosette-patterned tom of the night. Sunstar epitomises the reconfiguration better than anybody else, taking his predecessors' flaws and turning them on their head with all his visible, cathartic zeal. He is well-spoken, rehearsed even, yet somehow he doesn't quite lay it on thick. There's the opportunity with such a pedestal to boast, to brag about an agenda he's long been working towards, given the rapid sequence of triumphs that led him here. It is well within his rights, and he should. His genuine modesty is nauseatingly admirable.

Granitepelt's accursed name rolls from his tongue like hot tar. Claw-tips acquaint themselves with the stone below at this, memory harking back multiple days to the council meeting Chilledstar summoned. It would do him well to absorb as much information as he can stomach. His fellow councilmates' obsession with self-sacrifice is going to leave one of them six paws underground, one way or another, and an alternative to dying for the clan sounds most appetising. He'll have to try to learn more later, privately.

Smokestar isn't as enticed by formalities as the others appear, and not so long into his discourse does intrigue wash over Smogmaw's gaze like a wave. Good. Very good. To shy away from past transgressions in the guise of diplomacy is awfully unbecoming. It's well within the river leader's prerogative to scold Sunstar, remind him that time is no antidote for sins passed. This is politics. Better for everyone present to shed facades and clear the air than to proceed with amiability. As a meagre deputy stand-in, Smogmaw is not necessarily entitled to his say. He is, however, representing ShadowClan in every aspect of participation. If he speaks, it will not be out of turn.

So, he speaks. "Well." he drawls, leaning to stretch back into a sitting position and swivel to peer upon Smokestar more directly. The pause is intentional. He wants the RiverClan leader's words to resonate. "If I may say so, as a mere substitute for my leader, I'm... very grateful to've stood atop the Great Rock for such a momentous gathering."

A terse bow is lent to Smokestar first, before affirming glances are cast to the three other leaders present. "Briarstar, Emberstar, Cicadastar, Blazestar, 'n Sootstar founded our clans, moulded 'em into their current image, and from this point going forward, you four'll be responsible for carving a future outta their legacies." He's not smiling, but there's no bite nor undercurrent in his demeanour. Diplomacy is an avenue he walks naturally, albeit one often strewn with thorns and hindrances.

"History is not lost on Smokestar, and it shouldn't be for the rest of you. But-" he points one daggered claw towards the aforesaid tom - "the past ain't for living in. Take pride in setting new precedent. Letting your fur bristle over history'll just eat you 'n your clan alive." Smogmaw rights himself thereafter, though he cuts a look towards Sunstar. "So will forgetting to atone for it."

He anticipates deaf ears and eyes turned, for he is a lowly substitute in the end. Not much of a figurehead as far as these gatherings are concerned, if at all. And yet, he has spoken what matters most for his clan. These are five clans constrained to but a terribly small fraction of a wider world. Conflict between any is liable to spill past invisible borders, thus ShadowClan will only stand to benefit should peace keep its foothold. Chilledstar's ShadowClan, rather. "That is all from ShadowClan. Until next gathering."

With that said, he has no obligation to stand idly for the remainder, no more to speak his part. When the other clans dismiss for themselves, Smogmaw will likewise slip down.​