camp THE MINUTES ARE TICKING AWAY — gathering return

The dawn is beginning to unfold like the blurred gray wings of doves. Blazestar leads the Gathering patrol back through ThunderClan’s territory, over the border where the ground underpaw becomes brittle with pine needles that snap, brown and crisp, underpaw. He slips silently into camp, where daylight warriors are beginning to rouse their Clanmates, where patrols are eating and grooming and preparing themselves for the bulk of their work for the day. He acknowledges those who look upon them with a sweeping tail—and heads straight for the Highbranch, claws scrabbling for a hold on the bark. “All those old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!” His voice is loud enough to rouse those still remaining in their nests.

His expression is grim as he regards his Clan. “We come bearing grim news.” Blazestar’s gaze falls to where Orangeblossom sits beneath the branch, to where the lead warriors gather, and he announces, “WindClan has laid claim to Highstones. Smokestar went to receive his nine lives, and he was brutally attacked and left for dead.” His eyes are dark as indigo, bruise-colored and stormy. “The other Clans all agree that we cannot allow WindClan to lay claim to the Moonstone, but it’s clear that WindClan will do everything in their power to try, including attacking and killing cats who try to go to Mothermouth.

Blazestar quiets, waiting for the reaction from his Clan.



, ”
 
"Sootstar is mad." The lead warrior hisses, storming over toward the meeting area. Slate has never been a firm believer in StarClan, nor does he care much for the sacred nature of the Moonstone itself. It's nothing more than a rock in his eyes, but clearly it has some sort of power to communicate with the dead. Leaders would not be able to receive their lives if this aggressive behavior continued.

The burly Maine Coon is well aware that his opinions are often controversial, but who would disagree with him this time? "The clans are all in agreement already. What's stoppin' us from launching an all-out war on WindClan and putting an end to their crimes?" Or, at the very least, Sootstar herself? WindClan did not pull their stupid stunts without the word of their leader. If she fell, then surely the rest of the clan would follow suit.

// mobile but wanted to get smth in early!
 

Howlfire sits in the nursery when the cats who attended the gathering return. Like usual, she is awake with her kits, who seem to get only the smallest inkling that it was dawn before beginning to stir. Her father's voice booms so loudly that Howlfire could hear it echoing in the nursery. It was unusual for such a formal announcement to follow the gatherings so Howlifre assumed something big had happened. Which, unfortunately, seemed to be the case for nearly all the gatherings. Most of the ones Howlfire herself had attended usually devolved into some form of arguing or the leaders yelling at one another.

Howlfire slowly works her way to the entrance of the nursery, peeking her head out to try and catch the announcements her father would be making. To say she was startled was an understatement. "What?!" Howlfire startled cry rang out, joining the shocked gasps of a few NPCs in the crowd. Sootstar must have been truly mad if she thought she could get away with something like that! According to Slate, it seemed that most of the other clans had been in agreement that it was wrong and abhorrent. She wondered what her father would say next, and whether another battle with WindClan would be approaching sooner rather than later.
 
4d5460.png
  • 68451166_mY2BOSe6hTLMAcu.png

    orangeblossom | tags
    — she/her ; deputy of skyclan, mentoring eveningpaw.
    — scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes.
    "speech" ; thoughts
    — chibi by waluigipinball
    — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
    4d5460.png
"
She's always been mad."
Orangeblossom points out to Slate as they enter camp, tail flicking with an unusual degree of agitation. The Gathering had left Orangeblossom disquieted, far more than the average Clansmeet. Smogmaw's admission that his mate was dead, WindClan's attempted murder of Smokestar guarded by the flimsy excuse of claiming Highstones for their own. The moor-rats really were hare-brained; a pawful had attended the same journey she had, and she knew full well that Highstones had provided nothing of note when it came to prey.

Blazestar's gaze upon her head makes her look upwards, meeting his eyes briefly. She keeps her gaze upon their leader as he continues to speak, gasps and exclamations breaking out around her. War is the obvious reaction: Smokestar had all but announced RiverClan's retaliation. Would SkyClan need to get involved? She doesn't know the state of their alliance anymore. All of the leaders had condemned this move, even if Sootstar herself had been laughably absent from the Gathering this time. Orangeblossom's claws work the earth beneath her.

For once, she doesn't have an answer.
 

Twitchbolt had been pacing, pacing, pacing. Hadn't stopped since he woke up, which had only been an hour or so ago, but- but, it wouldn't be long until the Gathering party was home. He'd woken up from a nightmare before dawn, and- hearing no distant paw steps, had stayed awake to see them home. And here they were. Here hey were, looking haggard and sapped, with a disturbance in their eyes he couldn't place.

Not until Blazestar spoke.

WindClan has laid claim to Highstones. Thorns twisted through his pelt- his bristles mimicked brambles. Everything within him screamed that they couldn't be serious- surely, surely not- and yet he knew. The darkness in Blazestar's eyes, the resignation on Orangeblossom's face, it said it all. Twitchbolt stared at his mismatched paws for a moment. Double-vision did a waltz. This was- this was ridiculous. So soon after the journey, so soon before Leafbare. They were insane- Sootstar, she was insane.

She couldn't possibly think it'd end well. Because Twitchbolt, he knew. He knew it would only end one way, and it was with the death of the warmongering Wind-queen. "They can't all be... this mad.." Twitchbolt choked out, glancing toward Orangeblossom. Trembled rattled his form ceaselessly, his eyes shot moon-wide, pondering sprawling deep within them. "What does their... their medicine cat think?" Surely- surely a medicine cat did not want the other Clans to go without StarClan's guidance. The five Clans needed to thrive- hadn't they just gone over it?

Foolish, to think it would not be forgotten as soon as they returned home.
penned by pin ✧
 
BZvm8rs.png
4d5460.png

Bobbie trails after her mate, worry silvering her pale eyes as she watches each pawstep. So dependable, so there, is how she has always seen him—a presence as unshakeable as the now-distant mountains. Smokestar's near-death is a horribly bloody reminder of his mortality, as distant from her own as it might be. More than that, Sootstar's madness is a force as unpredictable as the pinwheeling eagles with their talons dripping claret, so far from here. Cruelty is one thing. Cruelty is still beholden to some threshold of logic, some basic hunger for survival. Madness is not—madness does what it likes, even if that means cutting its own throat in the process. The flimsy attempt at claiming Highstones is proof enough of that.

"If she had a mind, she's lost it," she agrees. A rarity to see her concurring with Slate's opinions, but the evidence of Sootstar's decline is undeniable. It's not a surprise when her mate summons them all to the clearing, and Bobbie joins the flow of cats. Cries of shock ring out upon his proclamation, Howlfire's startled What?! chief among them. Calls for war, too, and she's not surprised when her searching gaze finds Slate at their helm. For once, she can't immediately fault him for finding violence as a solution.

"How many cats would die or be wounded? It's clear WindClan will do whatever it takes to keep ahold of Highstones," Bobbie points out, trying to lend her voice to the growing din. Her intent isn't necessarily combative, but to her it's a factor to be considered.

4d5460.png

  • 6TR0CBJ.png
    bobbie ; lead warrior of skyclan
    x. she/her ; 43 moons ; tags
    x. small, scarred lilac tabby and white she-cat with green eyes
    x. played by dejavu
    x. mother to lupinepaw, crowpaw, and drowsypaw. mate to blazestar.

 

The Daylight Warrior had arrived in camp just minutes before the gathering patrol's return, a purposeful gesture, for he was mighty curious as to whatever gossip they'd be sure to bring. A yawn strains his jaws as he flexes claws into the soil, ears pricking at the rustling of the group's arrival. What was unexpected, however, was Blazestar's immediate call for a meeting. One brow raises with interest as Tigerscar turns his one-eyed stare upon the huge leader, listening to the announcement as it shattered the peace of the crisp morning air. WindClan had claimed Highstones. Clever bastards. The thought is dastardly, yet he can't help but find himself amused. WindClan was cutting the rest of the colonies from their precious ancestors. And why not? After all, there was always a benefit to having more hunting grounds. At the same time, he supposes it's not wise to make enemies of the four other clans, especially all at once. At least the taste of the chaos would be sweet in the days to come.

"Well, we're not going to let them get away with it, are we?" Faux outrage fills his growl, teeth bared and glinting in the low light. Naturally, Tigerscar will want to push his clan into war with the moor runners. How else was a tom to have fun around here? "Bet ThunderClan would happily let us cross through to teach those WindClan cats a lesson. Hell, ThunderClan would probably join us." The massive tom points out, fur bristling as he mimics the fury of his comrades.
 

An animal of minimal faith did not need the Highstones, nor did SkyClan itself, the sky's silence deafening when his home was faced with calamity after calamity. There was a difference between apathy towards one's ancestors and rejection. Sitting before his leader, tall as the pines and ears pointed rebelliously towards Silverpelt, the spotted tabby's whiskers twitched in surprise at the gathering's news. Peace had never been a long-term option when so many two-faced players resided within the forest, but to hear that the ceasefire had been broken so quickly left irritation rippling through his fur and down his spine. Narrowed pupils shot towards Slate, assessing the black tom out the corner of his forest green eye. Every part wanted to agree, to turn the five clans of the forest into four and rid themselves of the aggressors once and for all, but to die for rocks was no death at all. His coarse tongue ran along his teeth, contemplative, angry, but feeling the icy bite of frustration more than the hot-blooded anticipation of war. "It's nearly Leafbare," he pointed out, nose twitching at the cold as if to prove a point. "And we have no cover if we attack WindClan's territory. They'd see our pelts against the white far too easily."

His tail curled around his body. The promise of combat had always been an exciting one, rejecting it felt like a betrayal of his own wishes, but that was the price of being in a clan, wasn't it? "Wait until Newleaf, if they haven't seen sense by then, then it's time to wipe their scent from the moors for good."


 
Mews and yowls of outrage erupt from SkyClan, from the warriors themselves to his daughter who sits at the mouth of the nursery. Blazestar does not quiet them. He shares their misgivings, and he has called them together so they may walk through the dangers of their forest armed with knowledge as well as teeth. He looks to where the lead warriors sit—Slate’s furrowed brow and snarling call for war catches his attention first. He does not immediately deny the hulking tom’s cry for blood. “What’s stoppin’ us,” he asks, and the daylight warrior Tigerscar takes up his call. “Hell, ThunderClan would probably join us,” the tabby insists.

I said if RiverClan fights, then SkyClan will stand beside them,” the Ragdoll tells his Clan, expression solemn. “Howlingstar made the same proclamation. But neither have expressed an intention to attack, as far as I’m aware.” He catches the bark-color of his deputy’s gaze, but she says little, lost in thought.

None of them had a true answer.

He turns to Twitchbolt, who asks what WindClan’s medicine cat had said for himself. Blazestar’s mouth twitches. “Nothing. Wolfsong sat in silence as Sunstride spoke for a leader who could not be bothered to grace us with her presence.” Bitterness coats his tongue. “They did not speak against Sootstar.

Bobbie points out the number of cats who may die in such an attack, and Silversmoke speaks next, pointing out the impending leafbare season, the futility of launching an attack on WindClan’s turf where snow fell freely. Blazestar dips his head to the senior lead warrior. “What Silversmoke says should be considered by us all. That is why I call my council together now. Whatever we decide, I will make sure the entire Clan is informed.” He exhales, leaping from the Highbranch with a deft movement of paws. “This meeting is adjourned, for now.

With a flick of his tail, he draws Orangeblossom and the lead warriors into his den. Almost as an afterthought, Blazestar mews, “Dawnglare. Fireflypaw. Your presence is needed.” With that, the tip of his russet tail disappears behind the elderberry.



, ”
 

Figfeather was outraged, after all the clans had been through WindClan had been the first to break the peace. Perhaps unsurprising, but the manner in which they did stunned the marmalade tabby. Claiming highstones- an act she had never even considered before. The moor clan never ceases to surprise her, she can’t help what her journeying companions had thought of this. Surely they had not agreed? She watches as Blazestar vanishes into his den, the council including Greeneyes at his tail. She feels a twinge of envy and folds her ears back, she forces herself to continue to interact with those of her shared ranking.

”I don’t think we can be so quick to declare an attack… I say its too much territory for WindClan to control, they’ll exhaust themselves. I speak from expirence, those rocks are not easy to hunt on. They’ll give the land up before the next full moon.” Or so Figfeather believes anyways… If SkyClan could avoid a fight and let WindClan set themselves back, they should, as much as WindClan’s audacity to cut the clans off from StarClan angered her. She looks at Howlfire and Tigerscar, the only remaining cats.
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Mate to Fantastream
    » 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 aid to her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
Quietly, the cinnamon and white tabby had trailed alongside Orangeblossom and Figfeather. He kept his head low as thoughts as vicious as the sea raged in his mind. It seemed the popular opinion of the previous altercation was Windclan lost it or at least Sootstar had. Dogbite wasn't a religious creature by any definition, but this was simply wrong. No clan laid claim to the holy grounds, and last he was aware, the clans all agreed to share it. Why now, when every cat was finally gaining normalcy, did that batty moor queen desire it?

Upon arrival, Blazestar made clear the notion he intended to speak. Dutifully, they weaved around passing cats and sat in his usual spot. Tattered ears held high as he listened to the familiar gruff of his leader. Their pelt prickled at the mention of Smokestar's attack. He wasn't close to the Riverclanner by any means, but in his eye, no one deserved to be brutalized. Especially when they'd just faced the recent loss of a beloved clan leader. He held no doubts that if the time came their claws would be on the Rivers side for a change.

Upon the ebony tom's heartfelt announcement, the one-eyed warrior had been stunned. Their mind conjured a warped imagination of Blazestar lying still. Which was enough to broil under their skin like a serpent. If that deranged she-cat allowed transgressions to continue, who's to say she wouldn't wish death upon all of their leader's heads! Hoping to ease the onslaught of emotions, they carefully took in his clanmate's murmurs and shouts. Blue gaze peering to Bobbie then Orangeblossom and lastly Figfeather.

In a way, he hoped what the tabby said was true but they wouldn't hold their breath. At the closing of the meeting, Dogbite felt just as uneasy as he did at the earlier storm of a gathering. At least this one hasn't ended in a messy fight. Rousing to his paws, he made a silent exit from the clearing. Mind already vibrating with an endless onslaught of worries.
 
Last edited:
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
His gaze narrowed, muscles coiling beneath marred flesh at the announcement, maw clicking shut with a sharp inhale, filling his lungs with crisp air and pine. A mangled ear twitched, gaze shifting to stare at the ground, schooling his expression into neutrality. WindClan claimin’ Highstones? He frowned at the news, curling a wooly tail around obsidian paws, shoulders pulled like rope, rippling beneath smokey fur. Damnit.

Duskpool hadn’t been all that hopeful, to begin with, returnin’ from the journey and bein’ slapped with unfavorable news, but for that fraction of a second, he had hoped when his gaze settled on Circe’s form. She had been a kid then, the same as him when they split, sold to different homes, and lived different lifestyles, but he sure as hell didn’t know just what kind of trauma she lived through. He thanked the stars she wouldn’t ever have to live the way he did, fightin’ and killin’ for survival, not knowin’ if he’d see tomorrow. They were both stubborn, hidin’ their broken bones and healing flesh, but times like these it made him wish he could scoop them up and hide ‘em away from the world. But what good did that do him when he couldn’t protect ‘em?

Letting out a shuddering breath, Duskpool frowned, turning away from the gathering lot to stare off to the side, expression wrinkled. He wondered what in StarClan she was thinkin’ but even then, claimin’ it durin’ leaf-bare when prey would be sparse, knowing damn well the clans wouldn’t be able to attack without riskin’ their herb shortage. He cursed inwardly despite the neutral facade he bore to the rest of his clanmates, save for the subtle twitch of his tail. He drew his own conclusions, listenin’ to the uproar of voices, both at the outlandish claim and the change of weather bein’ their downfall.

A molten gaze flickered, watching his clanmates with a sinking feeling that this would be one of the last days they would know peace if Sootstar continued her crazed ideals. She needed to be stopped and if her own clan wasn’t down a damn thing, then well—maybe drivin’ her out along with the rest of windclan was their solution, drastic as it was, what else could they do? Sit back and watch Sootstar drive the rest of them into the ground like damn prey? He huffed, anger taking hold, molding into something unexplainable but he knew well enough that anger wouldn’t get a lick of ‘em anywhere in this state. Anythin’ else ya wanna toss at us? He inquired, glancing at the conspicuous sky with a deadpan expression. Foxdung. What more could they want? He just—oh, what the hell, Duskpool sighed, pressing a paw against his throbbing helm, pulsating in tandem with the slow beat of his heart.

“An attack now is foolish, especially with the upcomin’ weather, no doubt she planned it this way, knowin’ well enough that the clans won’t act if they don’t have bees for brains.” He grunted. “Even if they exhaust themselves, Sootstar is crazier than a rabid dog, she ain’t gonna give up highstone because of somethin’ like that. She’ll die before that happens.” He sighed. “Only way is by fightin’ but it’ll be a fool’s game to fight in this, not if we wanna see the next green-leaf.”
thought speech