private THE NIGHT IT BEGINS ♡ MEDICINE CAT GATHERING

[DAWNGLARE]

Here he was, doing the same song and dance yet again. Fourtrees looms ahead, those twisting, turning things crowned by the light of the moon. Same place, different purpose. The moon was half-full, not yet overrun by mangy, smoke-bitten pelts. Neither would he sit amongst the starshine, paws prodding the earth, warm tingle in his ears... A check up, no, not yet. Instead...

He wrinkles his nose, thinking back to those dreary faces that had greeted him that day. Dreary - and Honeybee.... Bee- bee... whatever. Small, scarred, cinnamon, fluttering bug, warm face amongst the crowd. Yes... the rest of them were hopeless, though. Dull, lifeless souls, wandering about without purpose. And here he was to meet them again... Why was he here again? He should leave.

Good thing, bad thing, he can't tell - It's an event, for sure. Fortunate for them, maybe, that their arrival is timely. Had he any longer to ponder it, he'd be gone, he's sure. His tail is tucked tight around his paws, away from any dirtying touch or otherwise. And his gaze is sharp, expectant as it settles onto the forms of the others. New shapes, big and small... Who knows if they're worth committing to memory. There's an impatient flickering of his tail-tip, a flickering gaze. "So?”

[ @BONEJAW @cinderfrost @BEESONG @honeytwist @Dandelionpaw ]​

 

[BEESONG]

The last gathering had ended too abruptly for the medicine cats to properly discuss anything. As Beesong steps into the clearing, he can remember all too clearly the chaos of Blazestar's confession... The shock, the outrage, the whispers.

Haze, murdered by Sootstar. Beesong had not known Haze well, apart from passing words spared during his time with the pine group, but he knows that Haze did not deserve to die. No one does. If others would rely on their words rather than their claws to solve problems, the world wouldn't be as shitty.

Dawnglare's voice breaks them out of their thoughts, and Beesong offers the other healer a weary smile. It does not reach their eyes. "So," they repeat with a hum, rising onto their tiptoes before falling back. Instinctively, they gravitate towards the familiar faces of Dawnglare and Honeytwist, glancing at the newest member with a blink. Right, that's right... Sootstar had mentioned Honeytwist taking on an apprentice before... everything. Dandelionpaw, if they're recalling correctly. "We should get started, yeah? Don't wanna waste precious moonlight."​

 

[honey]

Honey is tired- I mean, shes always tired, but today takes the cake. She trudges along with Dandelionpaw kept taught at her side, stumbling from the lack of sleep, the hatred that runs through her veins for her own clan that keeps her awake. Her paws where she had to help Kestrel with a bleeding eye, a throat in which became sore advocating for those who couldn't. Honey's tail lashes every single time she steps, has been for the whole journey. Her heart is pounding- what could she do? She knew the other clans have become wary of Windclan, and potentially even wary of her. Poor Dandelionpaw doesn't deserve it, she could take it, but she doesn't want the poor kid to go through it.

Shes biting the inside of her cheek to keep calm, her chest feels heavy and as she arrives she narrows her eyes. Before her were the other medicine cats and subconsciously she moves to stand closer to Dandelionpaw. "Bonjour," she speaks. she does not let her voice betray her exhaustion but it was apparent in her face. "Medicine cats, meet my new apprentice, Dandelionpaw." she introduces him with pride laced in her voice. She does not give the reason why, that she couldn't help everyone herself, but hes grown in to a fine apprentice and she couldn't be prouder.

Beesong brings up getting started and respectfully she dips her head, nodding along with him. "Yes... I agree."
​

"speech"​

 

[salamander]

The blue mink wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, such a concept had become foreign to her mind and body. Shoulders set ablaze with each movement that she made: her nest had become a contraption of torture rather than rest. Her forepaws stung and twitched yet, completely contradictory to the previous statements, felt numb. Hunting became impossible. Not a necessary skill for a medicine cat but a daily routine she clung onto with the remaining shreds of her previous identity.

As she emerged from the shadows cast by ThunderClan's mighty oaks, her teal eyes closely examined the clearing. Fur stood at attention as memories bombarded her tired brain. The Great Battle still reigned control over her thoughts but even they found it impossible to overshadow what occured during the last full moon. She'd refused to address the issue but, standing there now, she had no choice.

What did she feel towards her fellow marshlander? It was hard to say. Once upon a time, she had admired Soot. She'd always been the epitome of a true warrior: both loyal and skilled. They'd worked well together. Perhaps they were even friends all those moons ago. Her current behavior puzzled the she-cat who physically resembled the WindClan leader.

Sootstar had transformed into someone unrecognizable. However, she'd done the same. Would it be hypocritical to crinkle her nose up while condemning WindClan's actions? After all, she'd claimed the first life of her own leader. "But that was different," her mind justified, "I'm different."

Except she wasn't. She resembled a monster the same way Sootstar did.

Sleep deprivation caused thoughts to sour and roam. Forcibly, the blue mink forced her attention back upon the haunted clearing. Dawnglare, Beesong, Honeytwist, and Dandelionpaw were already gathered. A curious gaze fell on Dandelionpaw, the medicine cat sizing him up with a small, hushed "hm". The idea of appointing an apprentice had never crossed her mind. It made sense, though. Heck, she was practically an apprentice herself. Most, if not all, of her knowledge came from the cats here, especially Honeytwist and Beesong.

After dipping her head in greeting to the gathered cats, the ThunderClan medicine cat sat down with poise. Her tail snaked around her burnt paws, shielding them from view. "I'd advise teaching your clans about death berries and nightshade if you haven't already. The number of cats who need to be educated on the topic was rather shocking." ​

 

[BONERIPPLE]

This moon has not been kind. Starclan has not been kind and she seeks to return the favor. The woman should have never played into the paws of those dead cats. From the beginning she was skeptical, how everyone just simply rolled over and presented their bellies to them. They were supposedly the only ones that could stop the violence. Bullshit. If Windclan is anything to see as an example the violence and fighting is still here. Cats murdered in cold blood still happening. Suffering of her own clan is not enough for them. They had to, they just had to take her away. Force more pain and grief upon Shadowclan. Fire and smoke. And then their leader, her sister, crushed on the thunderpath. Suffering over and over again before her true and final death. All for Starclan. Disgusting.

She still smells of smoke and ash, pelt ungroomed and visibly tangled. Her eyes of suffocating embers fully looks upon the group of cats and all she feels is bile rise in her throat. She has never belonged among them.
Hare Whiskers was wrong to try to change the fighter, the cold and meticulous being she has always been. Her paws are not supposed to be gentle, they are supposed to be cutting and savage. Her frame thinner than normal she makes her way forth now towards the group and she finally speaks up. Tells herself she does not want to be a cat blinded by the wants of others. "Before all of you start I have something I must say." She leaves no room to stop her or interruption.

"From tonight and onward don't expect me to show up to any more of these. I will no longer be shaped by Starclan and have decided to not be a medicine cat. It is not my calling, it is not my future." She spoke Starclan with scorn and venom its jagged in the air before she merely nods her head and begins to take her leave. Her home needs abled bodied warriors. Not some plant loving fool.​

 

[Dandelionwish]

To say he had been excited was an understatement, he had spent the walk here excitedly prattling on about various things despite Honeytwist's obvious discontent. His chatter is a mix of enthusiasm and nervousness, by the lashing of her tail and her expression he knew the cinnamon she-cat had not wanted to make this journey, there was too much going on to spare the time and they were both drained enough for a lifetime but she had muscled through it regardless. It was a show of strength he admired, but he worried if his mentor would falter eventually, he fretted about the way the cracks had begun to form. Were it not for the dream he himself had recieved from StarClan he would have been more anxious about this visit, wary over feeling unworthy and that StarClan might reject him but they had deemed him fit enough for a warning he had understood too late; the new scars on his back evidence enough of that but they did not seem to slow him down. Every so often he would dance ahead with light skipping steps only to stop and wander back to his mentor's side, matching her slower pace before springing up once more. Once they arrived he sat down, wriggling in place with barely constrained delight before blurting out a chipper, "Howdy!" To his given introduction.
Mismatched eyes wandered over the cats present and arriving, his smile wavering slightly. They didn't look too happy to be here either. Everyone looked tired or annoyed or...his gaze briefly caught the ThunderClan Medicine cat staring at him and he shuffled his paws uneasily; what was that look for? Did he look funny?
His thoughts were broken by the dark ShadowClan she-cat speaking up and his smile finally dropped before he forced it back up with a nervous quiver of his whiskers.
"Wh-BU-weren't ye picked by StarClan? Ain't it a big honor? They gotta know what they're doin right?" Even as he said it he felt himself wanting to take it back. They certainly hadn't known what they were doing when they put Sootstar in a place of power where it rapidly went to her head. The sepia point's tail flicked uneasily, "OH-! Um...Sorry...didn' mean to.....nice to meet ye all...."

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Honey-furred, clawed-face, welcome enough presence, likely the only one amongst them. Their echoing words are acknowledged with the fluttering of his own ice-laden gaze. His tail flicks in agreement, though what exactly should be started was a question on its own. The five— now six... (his gaze narrows upon the Windclanners' approach. One two many. Two more than he'd like, flawed sorts of beings, unwelcome spirits) The lot of them— the stars insisted they had something in common. There was little between them to begin with, reluctant acknowledgment, and yet somehow more strain had been put on a relationship near-nonexistent.

Soon, there's Windclan. No tree scent clinging to their pelts. Only open air— the manifestation of a clear blue sky, unfortunately sullied by something gruesome underneath. Her face is familiar, only barely. Something in the mist of his mind squeaks recognition, but he doesn't care enough to reach for it. She speaks something he can't understand. Irritating, his claws scrap at the ground, neurotic. It's worse than the bright little thing trailing behind her, and he speaks gibberish too, it seems. A Windclan thing, his mind provides. It made sense on instinct, vile as they were, but he has to pause—

Not all of them.

His face sets in a blank-eyed stare, processing, before he scrutinizes the newcomer yet again. He fails to see how any of the adults here could take on such a burden, but a child?

Blue thing, fur ladden with liquid-ash, something about her screams, in his ears, nothing pleasant. But— "Nightshade?" he echoes the name with eyes wide in fascination. Such a name— surely bestowed by the stars themselves, it brings tales of divine wonder to his mind. Surely its something he should... know. A pink tongue swipes across his muzzle. It was rather shocking, she says, and he wants to tear her apart. How could she— and he—

Anger quickly fades into something else. Blank stare, steely-blue. There was nothing she could know that he didn't. It was there, somewhere, amidst the fog of his dreams— he would find it. For now... quiet. Something cuts them short. This tall, wiry thing, she speaks, and...

A short burst of laughter lights up his face, bright eyes and brighter teeth. Anticipated, it all was. "Anyone with eyes could tell its not your calling," he says, and his claws prick at the grass, out of amusement this time. "But to say you've decided... You can't decide something like this." It's out of her control, silly thing. His eyes would narrow as a thought comes to mind. Something, something... but surely, only Windclan would be so brutish... "Unless, you lied," Blasphemy— the mere idea has the edge of his words curling into an acidic hiss. Even if Starclan were wrong, something he loathes to consider, but feels the possibility of nonetheless, it'd be an honor to claim something which you are not. Hideous, wasted breath. "This child has more sense than you."​

 

[honey]

The first emotion she felt was cold blooded fear. Its icy and familiar, settles in to the pit of her stomach with clawed grip so tight that she has to manually breathe. The next emotion is acceptance, agreeing with Bonejaw on what she had to say. Briefly her features lighten and eyes close in thought. For just a second it seems like Honey would not share her opinion on the matter,r rather letting it go.

May every cat who thinks this be named a fool. When her eyes open back up they’re full of rage and shes trembling, beyond angry. “Who gives YOU the right to decide who you are?” she steps forwards with unsheathed claws, her tail lashing once more. “You cannot denounce your title so easily. WE ARE ALL PUPPETS! I never wanted to heal for such an emotionless clan, but I never had a single say in it.” she shrieks and all of the pent up emotions finally break her. “I left my mate behind, I bore kits in a clan that hates my guts, I lost a CHILD, a literal child, because my clan is too stubborn to LISTEN! I watched my own damned leader attack a clanmate. And not once, not once did I denounce my destiny because I know it is futile.” her voice is shrill and tears finally shatter the floodgate, leaving Honey a broken mess. “YOU do not get to decide. You have your damned fate picked out for you whether you want it or not, so if I have to drag your smoke smelling pelt back here then I will do it, do not test me.” the times where Bonejaw had approached her, crying, saying she couldn’t do it; warmth in her voice is long lost, forgotten, bitterness that fuels her move.

She turns her head upwards, her heart beats fast within her chest. Then Dawn says something that adverts her anger and she hisses. “That child has a name, use it.” her voice is venom and dripping with malice.

 

[BONERIPPLE]

The youngest of the group seems taken aback by what she days. "An honor my ass." She says the words with visceral malice and her eyes cut into the Skyclanner. Not needing him to echo a fact she already knows. She doesn't need him to tell her that she can not decide her fate. She can not decide how she will live. If there is hardly any divine opposition then what makes it something she can not decide on her own. A snort leaves the dark molly's muzzle and she merely rolls her eyes. Her tail lashing against the ground. But the silence is then broken by Honeytwist's frothing and angry words. Telling her that she had no right, that they are all puppets and the Shadowclanner has to grit her teeth. Her eyes build with tumultuous emotions as she stares at the Windclan who spouts out just how much she has lost, how she has lost and suddenly she finds herself laughing.

It's unmistakable how broken it sounds. How painful it rips from her gullet. She can't stand it, others pushing her around. Shoving her to do what they want her to do and all for something she can not trust so willingly. They are all fools. Mindless, ignorant to anyone else unless it includes them and she know it. She sees it and now, now she is so done with it all. "You, you think you've lost so fucking much don't you? Enough to snap and cry about as if I'd give a damn. I've decided because Starclan is bullshit and needless. I've decided because I can't stand to see my clanmates judge me for the shit I can't even begin to understand, wondering if I'll kill them next just like I did with Sparkkit." Her breathing is heavy and heated, pushing through her chest in heave pants and her claws unsheathed to clutch at the ground. "I get to decide my own fate, not a group of dead cats who hardly give a damn about any cats suffering. How they can just sit there and watch my family with no remorse. How they could take my sister away from me! Force me to watch her die nine times and call out for me to help her! TO HELP HER AND I COULD DO NOTHING BUT WATCH HER SUFFERING TILL SHE WAS NOTHING BUT A SMEAR ON THAT THUNDERPATH!" The woman is screaming now, she is screaming and she is hurting.

But they don't see that. They will flock to their Starclan and keep saying they are the only way and she can not do it anymore. Tears have started to spill, running into her fur. "Shadowclan....my home has suffered enough. Through fire and now this and Starclan only watches and takes from us. I am done with them. I am done with this. Stay away from me, keep your damn herbs to yourself." She turns to leave, she turns to head back to a ash covered bog. She lost her parents, she lost most of her home, she lost both cats who gave a damn about her. She lost her sister. She's losing.​

 

[salamander]

"Shall I escort you through ThunderClan territory to show you what nightshade looks like?" Any attempt at conversation was soon completely derailed by the appearance of the ShadowClan medicine cat. Right, right: of course it was Bonejaw. Bitterness instinctively scrunched her nose up in disgust. It always had to be poor, poor little Bonejaw.

Anger and grief had been cruelly denied after the Great Battle by the very molly who now cursed her star destined path. Neither sympathy or empathy could be faked in this situation. Instead, internally, she basked in the she-cat's burning fury. Icy, teal eyes stared at the cat she once called a friend. Bonejaw, the molly's name perfect considering her abrupt attack on her own colony mate.

Though she remained poised, the medicine cat mentally applauded Honeytwist. Wow. Who knew she had such anger and bitterness in her heart? It was understandable, though. Her words were heavy and raw. StarClan forced Honeytwist - forced all of them - to sacrifice far too much. Except for the two who were able to stay within their homes. If anything, Bone should be thankful that she'd been confined to the swamplands.

"Selfish." she hissed as her fur stood on edge. Briar's death caused emotional conflict in her heart. On one hand, she'd grown up with the she-cat but on the other.. It was her fault that Leaping Toad, Ash, and so many cats lost their lives that day. "You reap what you sow. she darkly thought. "Like you denied me my grief, I deny you of your pathetic self-pity."

Claws unsheathed as the blue mink blocked her fellow "medicine cat's" path. "You act as if you're the only one who has lost ones they loved. You're giving up without even trying. Instead of trying to better yourself, you neglect your duties and your clan. Oh, but you've never cared for your clanmates have you? I mean, you did sink your teeth into a grieving friend. But poor, poor you. Right?" she growled, body dropping low to the ground. "Your own incompetence is putting your clan at risk! Putting my family at risk! If you wish to quit, then bleed out and join your sister in the stars. The same place where her warmongering, close-minded ways sent my nephew. Sent so, so many who weren't ready to die yet! All because she felt entitled to the lands. Just as you feel entitled to act without consequence. You're not the center of the fucking world despite acting like you're holier-than-thou. That attitude is so fucking irritating. Get over yourself." She suffered that day despite Bonejaw attempting to take her life. Cats sided with this hideous fake when she'd.. "Honeytwist lost her life and you're trying to compare losing your sister to that? As if you're the only one allowed to suffer? Also, you act as if only ShadowClan suffered the wrath of the fire."

She focused on the betrayal she felt that day when Bonejaw tried to kill her. She channeled that into something ferocious and uncontrollable, "Allow me to end your miserable existence, then!" And then she lunged, jaws seeking to re-enact that fateful day. Stars, Hare Whiskers would be disappointed in both of his choices. He'd already written her off, though, so what did she have to lose? ​

 

[honey]

Bonejaw is screaming back and Honey can only gasp. "I'd like for your whole home to be ripped away next!" her own voices rises in a scream to match hers. Her own breaths come out ragged and in that very moment everything falls away. Dandelions begins to melt away and as two-toned eyes turn to look, his face disappears. It's all she needs to place one paw in front of the other. Pupils narrow in to slits and theres an intent to harm that gleams, like the moonlight reflecting off claws.

In her mind, Bonejaw is the enemy. Dawnglare melts away, as does Beesong. Cinderfrost saves herself by lunging for her throat, and theres a voice in the back of her head. Kill, kill, kill. Kill like the ones who had forsaken you, kill like the ones who let tiny Pigeon die, kill like the ones who encouraged her to leave Eventide on the border to rot. Kill the mindless ones who have not grown a spine, does not know anything but love. Kill, because if you don't, then who will? Who will be the silent protector of the world?

Shes running after her. Pent up anger, everyone always said it didn't do any good to bottle it up. Oh, how Honey thought them to be fools, bottling it up was all she has ever known, because what would become of that sweet, soft-spoken cat if she were to lash out? Honey is back on the streets, and street fights were dangerous, life threatening. Kill to survive, I have killed before and I am not afraid of doing it again.

She leaps. Bone finally melts away in to the nameless tom cat she had to kill to protect that child in the alleyways. Rage, pure rage fuels her. She aims to land upon Bone's hindquarters, trying to dig in any claws she can, regardless of if they drew blood or not. "YOU! YOU'RE COMING BACK HERE WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT."
​

"speech"​

 

[Dandelionwish]

Dandelionpaw shrank away and the anger that seemed to be immenating from the ShadowClan medicine cat, his ears fell flat as he looked to the side and did not even pay much of Dawnglare's remark any mind. He was a child. It was apt to call him such. He was starting to become more and more aware of it as time went by that maybe he was too young, maybe he was too foolish, maybe his idealism was folly. There was so much stress involved in this duty, he understood that-he thought he was prepared for it, but seeing these older cats all screaming righteous fury at loss and failings and cursing StarClan for daring to even grant them such a role...he was scared.
He had never seen such vitrol, such intensity from his mentor. She had been angry before, but never to this degree of screaming and outrage and he instinctively shrunk away from her at that until he all but backed up into the RiverClan medicine cat and shot the tom an apologetic glance.
Bonejaw was shouting now too, he felt his ears start ringing in horror over apparently their leader dying? Dying. But they had nine lives...nine times...the smear on the thunderpath-he remembered hearing about it, that they found a ShadowClan cat's remains on it during patrol not too long ago and he thought how happy he was not to have been there; that it would've made him uneasy. That he was a poor medicine cat as a result of it.
While he sat there shaking and unsure of what to even say or do in this situation the sleek black and white she-cat was leaving and suddenly it was all a blur of movement as both his cinnamon mentor and the gray ThunderClan medicine cat launched themselves at her.
"Stop it! Stop it-what are YOU DOING?! You can't ATTACK HER!" He didn't understand, or maybe he did-maybe he thought leaving was easier too at one point, but he remembered what he said to Coldpaw before he was Coldsnap, he remembered wanting things to be better. This wasn't how to go about that...
"If she wants to LEAVE LET HER GO! Don't hurt her!" Dandelionpaw had not realized how shaky and trembling his voice was nor that he'd started outright crying until he felt the droplets hit his paws and pondered over whether it was disapproving rain from the heavens or not. To make change, one must act. The sepia point found himself reeling as he thought back to Kestreltalon losing her eye-how his inaction lead to it. Could he have prevented it if he acted sooner? Could he have saved her? He didn't know, but he was tired of sitting there watching. With a grunt he was on his paws and shoving forward to try and push his way between the two and Bonejaw. "I SAID STOP IT! NOW!"

​

 

[BONERIPPLE]

Suddenly someone is in front of her and stopping her from going anywhere. Her gaze locks on Cinderfrost, a cat she knows all too well. Her pelt bristles, the white that is already wild a sea of thistles and thorns. Her words are a tangle of truths and lies. Denied her, she never denied her or st least that is what her mind tells her. Her gaze narrows upon each blistering sentence and she curls her muzzle in disdain. Since when has she acted like she was the only one that felt suffering. Honeytwist shout out her torment first but it is her fault when she reciprocates it. Her tail lashes and shd takes a step back. Her choice and her decision isn't from a lack of trying. Isn't from a lack of her not putting her best paw forward. She's tried. And Starclan just sits on high and continues to take.

She is the type to not at least give it her first best step but she's broken. She's worn and Shadowclan seems to be condemned in a perpetual state of anguish that none of the other clans have experienced or will understand. Her jaws part as if she is about to say something when Cinder starts talking about her family. It was that way before as well. Just her family. Just hers. No one else matters. Telling her that Honeytwist lost her life. So did she, twice. Before any of them knew her she had lost it first. Her jaws snapped shut and suddenly the other is crouching. Suddenly she yells about ending her miserable existence and oh she would let her if only. The dark woman rears up and teetj clasp into her chest, red blossoming up. She is about to move when a yell comes from behind.

A heavy weight lands on her hindquarters and she falls. The woman lands heavily on her, flesh tearing from this locked jaws. Blood dyes the ground. Bone twists and she aims to kick with her sheathed back paws, harshly aimed at Honeytwist to knock her away as claws stab at her skin. "GET OFF OF ME!" Leave all she wanted to do was leave. Get away from this mess, this mass suffering. Her breath heaves as she breathes forcing heated air from lungs. Another leaps in to separate, telling them to let her go and she takes this moment to do just that. If she manages to get Honey off she will run, she will escape into the darkness with nothing but a trail of blood to say she ever existed.
​

 

[BEESONG]

Honeytwist introduces Dandelionpaw, and Beesong lets out a noncommittal hum; he wonders if StarClan chose the young tom's star-crossed path themselves or if Honeytwist had made the choice? At least he looks happy.

Beesong chooses to ignore the stinging nettles of envy which wrap themselves around his heart. At least Dandelionpaw's happy.

They'd need to appoint an apprentice of their own, soon. They wouldn't live forever; one day, their mortality will catch up to them. When they take their last breath, they need to know that they're not leaving RiverClan without a healer.

Cinderfrost speaks next; while Beesong eyes her warily, knowing of the blood which stains her paws, they consider her advice with a hum. They've not heard of nightshade before tonight, but they know enough of the dangers of deathberries to conclude that nightshade is just as deadly. "I will," Beesong murmurs, their eyes glinting in the dim moonlight. Plan for the worst, right?

Tension coils through the air, hanging heavy over them like smoke. Beesong must force his fur to lay flat along his spine, his neutral expression artificial as he regards Bonejaw. She's decided to no longer be a medicine cat? To leave ShadowClan without medical care? To deny StarClan's destiny for her? Beesong's eyes narrow, cold fury turning his aqua gaze into shards of ice. "We do not decide," he retorts coolly. If it had been his choice, Beesong would not have abandoned SkyClan. He would have not left the cats who took him in and cared for him more than his blood-sworn family ever had.

Honeytwist's fury is explosive in comparison. She strikes like a viper, venom coating her tongue. Dawnglare shares Beesong's sentiment, reminding the selfish she-cat in front of them that she does not have the privilege to decide.

Even though her words are not directed towards them, Beesong still finds themselves recoiling. The rise of Honeytwist's voice twists their stomach, memories of their father's violent screams breaching the surface.

Fear and fury dance a dangerous tango. Beesong's head snaps towards Bonejaw when the woman snarls back, their ear flattening. "We've all made sacrifices-" Their words are drowned underneath the yowls. Beesong subconsciously takes a step backwards. Claws glint in the moonlight, and before their frenzied brain could catch up with the present, blood is being spilled beneath the stars glittering coldly overhead. Beesong wants to stop them, but their fear anchors them in their place.

Don't show resistance, and you won't be hurt. The voice whispers, reawakened from it's hibernation. Beesong obliges without a second thought of his own. He stands, head ducked and eyes trained on his own paws which threaten to quiver. Even if he wanted to speak up against the violence, the tightness in his throat would not allow him.​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Not a soul in their right might would agree with the drivel that spills from her mouth, foolish speak of decisions she hadn't the right to make. A ripple of hostility passes over the hollow, bubbles up into different reactions for all involved. The small one— he speaks cold and succinct, gaze sharpening with carefully chosen words. Not many, but he can't blame this one for their curtness. A shoddy excuse for a healer, so eager to give up this honor, she wasn't worth wasting breath on.

It's a sentiment the others don't share, then. The Windclanner screeches discordant song, shaking just like that little one at camp. She spills her woes onto them all. Too many words— cruel amusement fizzles out into static, in an out an ear. At some point, she addresses him. He does not hear her. He barely sees her. Red-tinged fur prickles along his spine. His face draws in an odd twitch, unwell, unbalanced. Blurs of shapes and color— furious storms all around, a whirlwind of fury. Ranting, raving madness, a lunge toward their target. Dark shapes, lean bodies. He flinches away, away, neck-jerking motion.

A hiss bubbles soft in his throat, low drone beneath the gnashing of teeth and furious yowls. Uncomfortable, weird sort. It burns. Icy gaze flickers back and forth, lands on one of these few who remain sane, Honeybee.

He frowns.

There's one last siynd, a servant yowl above the rest, before it all dulls into tense silence. The air is still. "What..." the words die on his tongue before they can go anywhere. He draws a paw across his face, then again, again— caked in filth, he can barely stand it. Claws curl into the ground below, grip at her with a vice. Sorry, chimes soft in his mind. Nostrils flare with a harsh breath. "That was obnoxious..." his eyes weigh on Honeybee.

...And then flicker to those sorry few, blurs of color caught in the midst or something, heaving hard breaths. Their victim is sorely absent though, it seems. All that and they couldn't even manage to slay her? Why attempt if you couldn't finish the job? Foolish. He blinks at them, slow, face set in an irate glower. "Starclan will punish her for you, you know. Pointless," he tells them, even as his eyes sag toward the ground. Typical of Windclan, he supposes. They seemed to stick to violence over all else. Though, that other one... Was she not who Blaise sought to be friendly with?​