The Gathering loomed, the fuller the moon became. Ferngill watched it every night and let it stain in his memory.
Since WindClan had taken Highstones, a question had weighed heavy on his mind. Was everyone in WindClan in support of it? For so long he'd branded every Windclanner as unequivocally evil, no doubt taking after the sooty she-cat who lead them. But- as it had shifted a million perspectives, the Journey had changed his mind on that, too. Mouseflight, Milkpaw, Scorchpaw... even Scorchstreak. There had been friendliness there, and Scorchpaw had helped save his sister.
Oddly, they'd been just the same as any Riverclanner on the gruffer side. That was what was so confusing about it all- that these cats who he'd laughed alongside, who he'd built nests with, who he'd celebrated with... who had helped throw them across the finish line with the dogs. To think they could turn so suddenly- against all the Clans they had helped. Against StarClan, who had sent them on that mission... it just didn't make any sense.
So, Ferngill decided- he was going to the gathering. He would ask Smokethroat himself. If WindClan didn't show, he was going to flock to every patrol that he could. No longer could he stand by and let himself be confused- he would find out what had changed the good Windclanners' minds. And... and if he couldn't find them, there could only be one answer.
Something bad had happened. It was a creeping feeling, irrational for now, but what Ferngill needed most of all was closure. And he was getting it, one way or another.
Since WindClan had taken Highstones, a question had weighed heavy on his mind. Was everyone in WindClan in support of it? For so long he'd branded every Windclanner as unequivocally evil, no doubt taking after the sooty she-cat who lead them. But- as it had shifted a million perspectives, the Journey had changed his mind on that, too. Mouseflight, Milkpaw, Scorchpaw... even Scorchstreak. There had been friendliness there, and Scorchpaw had helped save his sister.
Oddly, they'd been just the same as any Riverclanner on the gruffer side. That was what was so confusing about it all- that these cats who he'd laughed alongside, who he'd built nests with, who he'd celebrated with... who had helped throw them across the finish line with the dogs. To think they could turn so suddenly- against all the Clans they had helped. Against StarClan, who had sent them on that mission... it just didn't make any sense.
So, Ferngill decided- he was going to the gathering. He would ask Smokethroat himself. If WindClan didn't show, he was going to flock to every patrol that he could. No longer could he stand by and let himself be confused- he would find out what had changed the good Windclanners' minds. And... and if he couldn't find them, there could only be one answer.
Something bad had happened. It was a creeping feeling, irrational for now, but what Ferngill needed most of all was closure. And he was getting it, one way or another.
✦ penned by pin ✦