private WE SURE ARE IN FOR A SHOW TONIGHT — council meeting

[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar retreats to the den he now shares with Bobbie, and although he gives the nest they bed together in a rueful look, he does not go to her now. She stands before him not as his lover, but as a member of his council, and when he meets the soft sage of her eyes, it will be with expectation. This is the first time she and Greeneyes sit before him and Orangeblossom, the first time they will add their voices to those who have served SkyClan for moons. Silversmoke, Slate, Johnnyflame, Twitchbolt, Greeneyes and Bobbie receive a gesture to sit in a half-circle. To his right will sit the ginger-splashed deputy; to his left, fox-pelted Dawnglare, gaunt but recovered, and near him, the apprentice who had stepped into his paw prints during his illness.

“This is a delicate situation, as some of you have already pointed out,” the Ragdoll says, curling his tail around his paws. “The new moon is approaching. All medicine cats go to share tongues with StarClan—but WindClan would prevent them all from going.” His lip curls. “Dawnglare, has StarClan spoken to you about this? Fireflypaw? Are we meant to allow WindClan to prevent us from accessing the Moonstone?”

He sighs, turning to the warriors on his council. “Slate called for war, Silversmoke for waiting until newleaf. I do not know what the other leaders will do, but I do not think we should act without StarClan’s guidance. Nor do I think SkyClan should act alone.” His blue gaze turns thoughtful. “The other Clans all share our outrage.”

[ @orangeblossom @DAWNGLARE @Fireflypaw @SILVERSMOKE @SLATE @Johnnyflame @TWITCHBOLT @GREENEYES @bobbie ]

, ”​

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Dawnglare had paid no mind to the coming and going of faces until recently. Too - recently, when stars had bled behind his eyes; and moonlight thread a venomous maw shut with a thread. Of his own volition, had he awoke. And against his own will, his eyes had fallen shut once again. It is startling, when another scent besides sharp juniper warmed the den. If he was a madman, he might think it came from somewhere right beside him— but he was not; he would not be. Perhaps sickness still clogged his senses, he thinks, though the thought is no less disconcerting.

Deceptively doe eyes; sage green, Dawnglare is acutely tuned into a certain presence amongst them, and his throat feels dry. Amongst them, still; flaming coat and deadly gaze. What— just what has happened here? Only for the rust his voice has collected, does he not lunge at once with hisses and snapping teeth. This is a den of snakes—

And on a pike, his head would turn to meet the day - eyes of Blaze; spinning a tail that spun sacrilege. He is fully bristling now, trying and failing to restrain the last of his tail. " What? WindClan would what? " has StarClan spoken to you about this? He has no such story to tell, and it pangs him, that that is so; wash of sadness that surges over bubbling fury— but what a useless feeling that was. A stutter, and then he is blazing. " Certainly not, " he hisses. He needed no divine vision to know for certain (though he yearned for it so; kit desperately searching the clouds)

" And how do they intend to uphold this? Like dogs? Snapping with dull teeth and weathered claws? " What power did they have, above the stars themselves? Above the clouds? Above the sky?

( But, then— the sickness had upheld it well. Nearly, he had been null and void. Nothing; nonsense. Who would remember him? ) He is very suddenly afraid. Bile is thick in his throat. A lashing tail comes to curl around himself, instead. " We ought to... We ought... " divulge into mutterings, then; tongue pressed against teeth.

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

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• 

• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 59 moons old as of 11.20.23. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[Orangestar]

𝐵𝑈𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐴 𝑊𝑂𝑀𝐴𝑁, 𝐵𝑌 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝑁𝐷 ✧ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀

• 
  
  — 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.
  
  

​

Orangeblossom takes her usual place to Blazestar's right as his council files in, lowering herself carefully so she doesn't agitate her leg. It doesn't work. Pain flares from her knee joint regardless, forcing her to grit her teeth against the wave of unpleasant warmth which echoes through her system. Blazestar's words are mostly lost on her breathing through it, a motion that successfully distracts her as she realises just how much the den has come to smell like Bobbie. Orangeblossom blinks, suddenly noticing how much more crowded the elderberry bush is with six lead warriors. They might have to find a new place to hold council meetings should Blazestar choose any more advisors.

"Our medicine cats shouldn't go alone." She frowns. Fireflypaw may have been a warrior apprentice before his path had been chosen for him, but that was long ago- and before he'd been mostly blinded by the claws of a rogue. She distantly recalls hearing Silversmoke complaining about having to - attempt to - train Dawnglare, but StarClan had chosen his path at SkyClan's conception. Orangeblossom's tailtip twitches. "Do we send a guard each with them? A patrol, enough to hold our own?"

​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

He was used to this, by now. Wasn't that odd? Moons ago he'd been wracked with doubt so fierce that he felt like he might burst into tears every time he spoke, but now- now, it was almost, almost... fine. Normal. Of course, he still shook like a blade of grass in a hurricane, and... meeting in here was never for anything unequivocally good. But for once, for once, he felt... maybe like he wasn't so horrifically out of place. That he wasn't some undeserving fraud sat in the spot of someone better...

It'd probably be temporary. Until he opened his mouth, and inevitably felt like the biggest idiot to have crawled out of a ditch.

Dawnglare was among them again, he noticed- the matter of medicine cats travelling to Highstones, that pertained to him... probably. Certainly not, uttered the medicine cat with a distinct bitterness, and Twitchbolt felt anticipation sigh out of him. Right, well... there went one of the easy answers.

"They're- nn-no better than dogs," he stammered, though there was a conviction in his perpetually shaking voice that betrayed quite clearly his disdain. Guarding StarClan, who surely couldn't have wished this... by barring everyone from their guiding light, didn't WindClan tread all over it themselves?

"They- they... they aren't just defending it. Sss-Smokestar said they tried to kill him." Twitchbolt looked at no one in particular, eyes staring sightlessly forward at some terrible future. "They're... they'll kill a new leader, so... they'll kill a medicine cat, too. They're going for the heart." His teeth chattered. "Orangeblossom's right, if we... if we want StarClan's guidance, if we want to seek it... we can't send them alone. Gotta be armed to the... the teeth, and... and the patrol that goes has to be ready for a..." Swallowing, Twitchbolt's muscles seized in a violent twitch, namesake performed. Embarrassingly. He shook it off best he could.

"For a real bad fight."​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[SLATESNARL]

The beats of impending war thrummed through the large warrior's body as he and the council retreated to the walls of Blazestar's den, away from the chaos of the clan. Blood rushed in his ears, flushing his skin and running so hot that it could practically be boiling. WindClan was akin to an incessant roach, one that should have been dealt with long ago. Now look at what's happened — they had nearly killed RiverClan's leader.

He had already made his stance on the situation crystal clear in the initial announcements made to the clan as a whole, but Slate was far from done elaborating upon his thoughts. Through narrowed eyes he watched Blazestar, hesitant to fully support one decision over the other until he received "StarClan's guidance". Those celestial felines were nothing more than cryptic and unhelpful in times of dire need! Only after cats had started to die did they decide to send omens to the medicine cats. They would do the same here; they wouldn't lift a claw until it was too late.

The others begin discussing the logistics of sending a heavily armed patrol to the Moonstone. Slate would much rather skip those unnecessary steps altogether. Frustrated, the lead warrior addresses the leader, his tongue wielding impatience like a sword, "Blazestar, what would StarClan tell us that we don't already know?" Slate twitches the end of his tail, unafraid to challenge the word of the ancestors so blatantly. Someone had to say it! "That we should do somethin' about WindClan? That much is obvious. Or that we shouldn't do anything? WindClan will keep spiralin' out of control if we don't step in." They were actively disrespecting StarClan's will; it wouldn't make sense to just let WindClan run wild.

A fiery amber gaze glances over the other members of the council, lingering ever so slightly on Orangeblossom before turning toward the flame point again. "You said it yourself — all of the clans are in agreement. WindClan couldn't possibly win in a fight against us — and I mean all of us. Not just SkyClan. All four clans." He felt the need to reiterate, as others had previously thought he had suggested a battle only between SkyClan and WindClan. Why should only SkyClan undertake the weight of the war when all of the clans were on their side as well? In a rare time of unity, Blazestar should be taking advantage! "Sootstar obviously has no respect for the clans or for StarClan. She and her followers have no place in the forest. The answer seems real obvious to me." War. WindClan has crossed every single clan in the forest with little to no consequence. They should get what has long been coming to them.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚

• 

• 

  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

Statuesque, paws tightly wound together and tail wrapped to protect them all. There was little the spotted tabby had to add, the surprise had abated and numbness had been its successor: he was not as injured by the closure of StarClan's gates as others in his clan. SkyClan was his God, but it was not the relationship between a ruler and subject anymore, instead, he found himself as the devil's advocate for an otherwise pure society. He cocked his head to the side as others spoke of patrols, slow blinks incredulous as he tried to make sense of the decision. Even if they broke through and reached the Highstones, they would be trapped within if they wished to speak to StarClan, the recklessness sent a cold shiver down his spine as the council members hyped each other up with their wild ideas. Only Slate spoke some sense (though thinking it still left an acrid taste in his mouth), but spoke as if immediate war was the answer.

He looked towards the medicine cats, then, the leader, finding his words had more bite than the last graveling plea he had made. It was not RiverClan kits he was trying to damn this time, but SkyClan kits he was trying to save. "You'd send good Warriors and valuable medics to death for a sign? A sign of what? To do? If all we relied on was signs, then Slate and Twitchbolt would be some Twoleg's playthings by now." If they didn't have StarClan, then SkyClan would just have to make its own choices... and hopefully not run headfirst into a badger's nest. The Mothermouth could not be pictured by the Lead Warrior, description after description by the lucky few in SkyClan who had witnessed it could not do the real thing justice - but it was not a place he wanted to see quite yet. "We wait until the green returns to the land, we have to. If WindClan has any value, it is in teaching us that we do not attack in Leafbare, even with the other clans..." Silver brows twitched. He recalled ThunderClan's word-bile, ShadowClan's apathy, RiverClan's weakness. Unreliable. "Especially with the other clans." Distrust was plain as day in his tone, unity a concept shattered in the days following the rogues' exile. The large feline sat back, feeling as if he had said enough despite his taciturn opinions.

​

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

---

Johnny could barely believe what he was hearing. The clans had just gotten rid of the rogue problem and had their journeying cats return home, and Windclan was already pulling this crap? It made Johnnys blood boil. He agreed with Twitchbolt that Windclan would take this to extremes, had no doubt they'd kill a medicine cat if they'd already tried to sink their fangs into a clan leader. "They're just like those damn rogues- we should have run the whole of Windclan out alongside them." the stocky tomcat growled.

"Slates right, though. This is a problem that involves all of us- surely if each medicine cat was sent alongside a large enough patrol, Windclan would be torn apart if they tried to stop us? And waiting until newleaf would definitely allow us the time to grow stronger and gather resources for after the inevitable fight- but that also gives Windclan time to do the same. Timings definitely up for debate, but I'm on the side of putting Windclan in their damn place for once. It's not just about needing a sign we can't get because they've blocked our path- it's the fact that they think they have the right. Windclan does not dictate what Skyclan can and cannot do."

Johnyflame could see the pros and cons of waiting versus striking now, but what he wouldn't be moved on what the fact that Windclan were tyrants who needed to be stopped.

"I don't think even Starclan would blame us at this point. The only group that's been screwing up the balance is Sootstars, and now they're trying to control us again. How long until they're bold enough to come for our camp again? For stars sake, Starclan just had us unify to journey to the mountains- I can't imagine they'd condone Windclans actions right now."

---

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Bobbie steels herself for the council meeting as the group of cats file into the den she shares with their leader. Today, she goes forth not as his mate, and she does not expect nor desire preferential treatment. Slate's blatant implications aside, she has earned her way thus far, and she will earn her right to remain on his council just the same. She joins the half-circle of cats, tension spiking the fur along her shoulders. Several of her fellows have already made their opinions apparent during the meeting. Slate is calling for war, and while she's loath to agree with Silversmoke, she's as strongly opposed to that notion as the silver tom.

Dawnglare chimes in with the medicinal perspective, hissing a fiery retort to the prospect of a divine vision. Already these council meetings have her begrudgingly agreeing with cats she might not otherwise. He descends into mutterings and Bobbie works not to shuffle her paws. She does not need any visual slights to her minor authority this early in. She curls her bobbed tail taut against the curve of her leg, waiting for the other, more senior leads to speak first before she says her piece.

She runs her tongue along the inside of pearly canines, listening as Orangeblossom proposes a guard. Twitchbolt agrees, stammering, and while Bobbie has to agree the proposition is reasonable, is the half-moon meeting worth dying for? Is that sacrilege to think? she wonders.

And then Slate speaks. Reiterating what he said in the meeting—calling for war, for bloodshed, for the moor cats to be run out. Bobbie forces herself not to bristle at the notion of driving out cats and leaving them homeless, of giving up life and limb and limited resources for the sake of this war. Ever the bleeding heart, undeserved sympathy pools in her chest in deep arterial puddles. Silversmoke counters him to a degree, proposing that they wait until leaf-bare's end. It startles her to see Johnnyflame growling that the whole of windClan be run out, and the lilac tabby inhales sharply, feeling distinctly within the minority.

"Surely not every cat in WindClan supports Sootstar's....regime. There must be queens, kits, elders. Those who still follow StarClan—Badgermoon turned against her, after all." Pale ears twitch, finding her footing within the discussion. "Some of WindClan is innocent. Should they be run out, too?" Bobbie pauses, trying to frame her message without being combative. "Even if we warred against them, how many of—of our own cats would be wounded or killed? WindClan has made it clear they'll do whatever it takes to keep Highstones."

"I don't think they shouldn't be punished, to be clear." Bobbie's lip curls in recollection of Sunstride's weak defenses of Sootstar's madness at the Gathering. "Just not all of them. If—If Sootstar was removed, somehow, her followers would surely go with her."

i'm a moon ☾ ( constantly chasing you )

• 

• 

  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.

​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Sacrifice, blood, and pain.

That is what had been put into these many moons since he had become medicine cat apprentice. Fireflypaw finds that he has no sympathy for the cretins of WindClan after his discovery at the Gathering, eyes of milky aquamarines usually so kind- now filled with a sense of disgust and hatred. It is unusual for him to be so angry, to be so filled with fury that he can feel it in his bones. He can feel the nerves radiating off of his mentor, knows that he is dreading having to deal with this situation. A sense of protectiveness overwhelms him, eats at his hardening heart until it boils over and spills.

"We should just dispatch the WindClanners guarding the Highstones." Fireflypaw puts his opinion out, for once- he hears all of the words echoing around him, of the lead warriors and the deputy's worries and ideals- he knows that it is a risky move, but he will not be held back from his divine right to see his ancestors and deceased family. "Claim the Highstones back to StarClan, perhaps they will support us. Perhaps, perhaps.." He ponders aloud, blind blue eyes moving over to the direction of the other cats in the close vicinity.

While Bobbie considers if dying for the half-moon meeting is worth it, Fireflypaw can feel it in his very soul that it is. He has never been so sure in his life, and he is not usually one to condone violence. But this, this was blasphemy. What purpose did he have, if not to communicate with their star-riddled ancestors? They would not take his star-given right from him, they would not take, take, take as they have done for moons now. "I will not sit and let the stars be forsaken by a bunch of.. of.. Flea-ridden hind-sniffers!" He snaps his jaws closed viciously, finds that he is all too inexperienced to join such a battle. He is gifted, blessed by StarClan- the high priest would not be lost to the lands Mother owns, he belongs amongst the rest of the others who are also blessed by Them.

His fur, he finds, is ruffled by this talk- and he fluffs it up against the vibratum in the air around him. Tension, he finds, is thick in the air.

"Whether alone, or with the other Clans- we must run them out. The other medicine cats are no exception to the fact that the Highstones belongs to every Clan."​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 16 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[GREENEYES]

There's an era of Greeneyes' youth that sits at the forefront of his mind more often than not, these days.

One in which both his mother and his mentor would slip away to huddle beneath the shelter of Blazestar's den for secluded meetings, a task only those on the leader's council were privy to. As an apprentice, he'd wonder what was shared in such engagements, debates he'd only hear the answers to beneath the Highbranch in clan-audience meetings later on.

And now he’s bound to carry on Daisyflight and Sheepcurl's legacy in his promotion, as he too slips away to meet beneath the elderberry bush at Blazestar’s call. Heart pounding as he still reels from the news that transpired from the gathering, he settles somewhere between Twitchbolt and Fireflypaw - but not too close to the latter, for unsettled fear of the recovered beside his friend still lingers, even in this new position he’s yet to grow into.

Did Twitchbolt feel the same way he does now, during his first council meeting? Greeneyes straightens his posture, tries to look more like a lead warrior than some out-of-place apprentice eavesdropping on the forging of battle plans - as he wonders for the umpteenth time whether he heard Blazestar correctly, whether Blazestar spoke correctly. What is Greeneyes even doing here, in the cramped confines of Blazestar’s - and Bobbie’s, too now - den?

Malachite eyes dart from face to face as they speak, as they put in their own pieces to the discussion before them. WindClan’s claim on the star-marked Highstones is something he wouldn’t expect from even them, from Sootstar’s regime, her tight, blood-pouring, claw-hold on the moor cats that live under her reign. Such a landmark that had granted them passage on their departure and return, had his delayed group returned any later, would they have fallen victim to her claim on StarClan’s earthbound territory, in ways that his ancestors couldn’t revive them from?

“But, leaf-bare hasn’t even started!” he counters Silversmoke’s opinion, tail hooking around snowy paws as nerves arise within him. “A lot can happen between now and newleaf! It’s… It’s a dangerous game, waiting, isn’t it? It’ll only allow WindClan to get used to the land around the Highstones, won’t it? And… Stars forbid, what if something happens? What if someone needs to reach StarClan?" He finds himself agreeing with Johnnyflame, for the first time in a long time, he thinks.

At the sound of Fireflypaw’s voice beside him, riddled with anger and fear, Greeneyes wants only to nudge at the medicine apprentice’s shoulder, to quell the fear that he feels too. But he is a lead warrior, a fellow council member, in this moment. Comfort, he thinks, will have to wait until later, when they’re away from the elderberry bush and the decision on the safety of both the clans and the stars aren’t in their paws.

And it’s another friend he thinks of at Bobbie’s words, ones touting the innocence of some. Where did he stand in all of this? Surely, the friend he’d made during the journey wouldn’t stand for this… right..? He doesn’t want to believe any of the cats he’s journeyed with would but it’s the black and white tom that comes to his mind, tail laced with daisies, shared qualities in a love for shiny objects, a fear of being cursed.

“There must be some that don’t agree with Sootstar’s decision,” he agrees with his promotional partner with a nod, though he fears that most, if not all of them, reside in SkyClan now, fears that he’d believed in a falsity in his stagnant friendship with a moor-dweller.

“But.. But even so, we still have to act fast, I think,” he reroutes himself, moves back toward thinking of when, instead of who, though his heart lurches at the thought of spilling familiar blood. “Things’ll only get worse, if we let them believe they can take claim of Highstones without punishment.” They’ll take a page from the rogues they’d all just run off, he’s certain - WindClan will make sure the forest is theirs, and theirs only, if repercussions aren't swiftly given.

✦ ABOUT

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  GREENKIT ‣ GREENPAW ‣ GREENEYES, Lead Warrior of SkyClan
  — Daisyflight x Raven Ramble
  — AMAB; He/Him
  — A red tabby and white tom with bright green eyes.
  — Mentored by Sheepcurl; Currently mentoring Falconpaw
  — "Speech"; Attack
  
  ✦･ﾟ: * — Born into SkyClan's first litter, Greeneyes is a bright tom with an affinity for the world around him. Despite always seeking to be kind to others, the warrior believes he's cursed - a belief brought on by rhetoric that green is a deadly color.
  

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[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar sits patiently as each of his council speaks their mind. Dawnglare’s hiss is a call to action that dissolves into near-incoherent murmurings, then silence. He can feel the medicine cat’s fury radiating from his reddish coat; Blazestar shifts, as though the heat might catch his own fur aflame. “That’s exactly what Sootstar plans to do,” he answers Dawnglare’s query. Like dogs, snapping teeth and slashing claws. “Sunstride said they would protect their territory as if it were any other bit of land.” He shakes his head. “They’re marking as if it is.”

Dark blue eyes flick to the deputy at his side. Her frown, her worry, is palpable. “Do we send a guard each with them? A patrol, enough to hold our own?” Twitchbolt’s eyes peer into nothing, some heinous catastrophe that awaits them all; he echoes Orangeblossom, then says that they’d kill a medicine cat if they’d try to kill a leader. Blazestar can imagine rogue-adjacent claws tearing into Dawnglare’s soft fur, through Fireflypaw’s, and his fur begins to twitch, threatening to stand on end.

Blazestar grinds his teeth together in frustration. “It would be a risk to send warriors so far away from our territory, out in the open… I cannot risk any of your lives that way,” he murmurs, flashing a rebuking look in Silversmoke’s direction. Presumptuously, the spotted tabby assumes Blazestar would order warriors to accompany the medicine cats. He turns to Slate, his frown deepening at the dark warrior’s words, at Silversmoke’s. “What would StarClan tell us that we don’t already know?” “It isn’t for me to presume what StarClan would say. That’s why going to the Moonstone is so important.” This, he readily believes. Their ancestors did not always walk in dreams, and the new moon meeting had been a tradition for a full cycle of seasons at this point.

But Slate’s assertion that the other Clans would rise up and Silversmoke’s obvious distrust of them lead them in circles. Johnnyflame agrees with Slate, his faith in the other Clans more concrete. “I don’t think even StarClan would blame us at this point,” the torbie asserts, and Blazestar’s eyes narrow. “Perhaps not, but we will not know if we do not seek their guidance,” he murmurs.

Bobbie speaks, and though it’s clear she’s nervous, she speaks clearly and thoughtfully. She brings up the cats in WindClan who may not be supportive of Sootstar, of the cats bound to live under her iron claws in fear. Blazestar shudders to think of the queens, kits, and elders who cannot flee her madness, of the warriors who might oppose her will in silence. “That is something we must consider, too. We can’t run WindClan out—not unless that is StarClan’s will.”

Fireflypaw gives voice to his mentor’s mutterings. “Claim the Highstones back to StarClan, perhaps they will support us.” A pale rust-colored tail tip flicks in silent agreement, and then Blazestar meows, “It is StarClan’s will we must consider. It is their territory that has been stolen.” Though Slate and Silversmoke may look at him as though he is mad, the SkyClan leader has always put his faith in StarClan first and foremost. It’s that faith, he thinks, that had allowed him to lead when grief would have swallowed him alive.

The final member of Blazestar’s council speaks. Greeneyes, like Bobbie, does his best to sit upright, to assume the confidence the senior lead warriors have. He says things will only get worse, that the council must act swiftly. The Ragdoll nods once, slowly… then he turns to Dawnglare, his blue eyes glimmering. “I will not risk Fireflypaw as long as WindClan holds Highstones, but…” He searches his old friend’s blue gaze. “It would be a risk. A risk I will not ask you to take—but I feel we must speak with StarClan.”

He holds a paw to dam any protests. “I will not risk any of the warriors’ lives, and if Dawnglare fears for his own under my protection, I will not ask him to accompany me. I have more than one life to give. I must know what StarClan wills us to do.” He turns back to Dawnglare, waiting.

, ”​

​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

"We can't rely on WindClanners to do the right thing," he flicked his ear as he looked towards Bobbie, drowning out the sounds of protest as best he could. He was not a pious cat, he could not know the grief he was causing by suggesting that they make their ancestors wait a few moons, but he could guess that the death and injuries of good SkyClanners would cause even more grief. They would not be dying for a noble cause if progress wasn't made, and with Highstones so far away from the forest, it felt as if WindClan could just flee and reclaim it another day. "If they stand with Sootstar, they are zealots who cannot be trusted. If they betray Sootstar, then they are unfaithful to their homes and cannot be trusted." The best bet would be to kill her and let WindClan themselves decide what comes next, but if killing a Star-blessed cat was so easy, then he doubted that Smokestar would've attended the gathering. Debates continue and Blazestar speaks once more, the large tom turning his head towards him. Nostrils flare as he insists his willingness to speak to StarClan, but then, he continues.

Eyes widened, a heavy feeling pulling at his limbs and wrenching his heart. Grief for a plucked flower that was going to die sooner or later, but seemingly wanted to speed the process up. A raised paw did his feelings no justice and the Lead Warrior let out an unhappy yowl, claws wrenching into the bedding that Bobbie and Blazestar shared. "Don't be a mousebrain," he hissed, ears flat against his skull. It was not a leader he was speaking to, but a friend. Silversmoke jumped from his sedentary position and moved closer to the Ragdoll, committed to meeting his sapphire gaze even as it made his bones itch. "You've seen what they did to Smokestar, what makes you think they'll make the mistake of leaving you alive? Any guidance you get will die with you on those moors, you'll be the smartest dead cat the forest has ever seen." Blazestar was not a fighter, Silversmoke could not begin to count the lives he had lost in battle - it would be a suicide mission to enter the moors alone, still, the spotted tabby was not keen to change his tune and suggest a patrol if Blazestar was so adamant about it.

"If I need to break your legs to stop you from going by yourself, I will." A miserable promise, one that likely wouldn't change the point's mind, but for SkyClan, he had to try.

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Chin tucked to chest, Dawnglare pricks his ears to frenzied chatter. Blue eyes flit from speaker to speaker, always wide with the extent of his distress. Blazestar answers him directly— relaying the brutish word of WindClan, and he curls his lip in disgust, claws sliding free from their sheaths. Blasphemy; just another piece of territory. More land for WindClan to constantly be muddying, as if they hadn't already done enough to last long into forever.

A guard. Oh, does he loathe the idea. Impossible, to straighten the metaphoric kink in his tail. Dawnglare shifts uncomfortably beneath voice that undeniably meant more to Blazestar than his own— he realizes this now, after moons and moons. The same way Blaise has shut him out, it seems the stars may have deigned to do the same. He would not like to believe that, though. He says as much with frantic eyes, buzzing, burning, and always making their way back to his old friend. Always. Eventually. If he is to give up on one of these things— he cannot give up on the other. What would be left for him, then?

Yes, he has already decided that he would speak to them. To StarClan.

Always, he has turned disproval upon those creeping upon Mothermouth with strangers— untouchables; the unholy in tow, but if it is this that would be his only allowance...

He lets go. He lets go of his concern for retaliation, for repentance. He would only like to speak to them; to apologize for whatever it is. If he fixes it, perhaps the moorland queen may be struck down before his very eyes. if they cannot do it, then She will. He will pray on it.

A question of power is what this was. His own apprentice calls for action; that they must act in StarClan's said. " I believe... " Ticking jaw. A discomforted face. " That StarClan can act for themselves... H-however... " Is that true? Was that true? Lost, amongst the fleeting sense of sickness. He did not know anymore. He knew nothing, anymore.

It isn’t for me to presume what StarClan would say. His eyes would flicker up to his leader. His neck is stiff, in the pursuit of a nod, but he watches raptly either way. And a blink, when Blaise sees him too. Before he can say anything— and that could only ever be to agree— his paw raises in to silence them all.

" I fear nothing! " too quickly, his jaws snap around the words. Nothing but the truth, he swears it. To the stars, and to Mother below. " I.... I, as well. " Oh, so desperately did he need to speak to StarClan. He needed something, anything.

And Silversmoke takes more than he was ever given. The lead warrior surges, vitriol on his tongue. Dawnglare leaps to his paws, but remains stood in his place. Surely, surely, such a threat had no place amongst them. No place amongst this viper's den of a council. His voice raises to meet the warrior's own, a hiss heavy in his throat. " Mind your place, Silversmoke. Do you think yourself a hero, as you threaten this? " The image brings a twisting to his stomach. His breaths come out sharp. " I will join him. He will not be alone. " Was it not obvious, his accompaniment? Or did it simply not matter? " We will return alive. The both of us. "

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

• 
  
  

• 

• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 59 moons old as of 11.20.23. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

---

He couldn't believe it, but for one he was in complete agreement with Silversmoke.

"Going to Highstones with just you and Dawnglare would be suicide!" Johnny hissed, the mere thought of losing both their leader and their healer in one go almost horrifying, especially to such a foolish plan. "If you can't be persuaded out of it, at least let me go with you- hell, let the other daylight warriors go with you!" he urged, golden eyes ablaze with determination as they sought his leaders.

"Our twolegs will look after us if we end up hurt, with their own healers. Dawnglare won't have to spare a single herb on us." he tried to reason, almost desperate to talk the pair out of such a dangerous plan. In this case, their twolegs were an advantage the other clans didn't have, and if there was any time in the world to use it then it was now, when Blazestar was throwing their two most important players to the wolves.

---

​