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clangenrising · 3 days

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Month 14 - April Gathering

“I’m so excited!” Fogpaw squeaked, bouncing along beside Floodpaw and Slatepaw.

“We know,” Floodpaw rolled his eyes with a groan, “You’ve said so like a million times.” Fogpaw frowned and suddenly didn’t feel like bouncing anymore. She hadn’t realized she was being annoying.

“It’s alright,” Slatepaw said, “I’m excited too.”

“It’s your first Gathering,” said Pantherhaze on Slatepaw’s other side. “It’s completely normal to be excited about it.” He glanced at Floodpaw who looked away.

“Well, I am,” said Fogpaw. She looked up at the full moon and smiled. “Do you think StarClan will cover the moon?”

“I hope not,” said Pantherhaze. “If they did it would mean they disapproved of the Gathering.”

“I just think it would be cool,” shrugged Fogpaw. She imagined a roll of thunder and a sudden stormy sky, a powerful sign of StarClan’s wrath. She hoped that, at least some day, she got to see it.

The RisingClan cats - her, Slatepaw, Floodpaw, Pantherhaze, Scorchplume, Goldenstar, Russetfrond, and Sagetooth - emerged from the trees into the clearing. Fogpaw made an awe-filled sound of wonder at the sight of the Cornerstones towering up ahead. A white she-cat and a ginger one were sitting on top, bathed in moonlight, their deputies conversing on the rubble beneath them. Goldenstar whispered something to Scorchplume and then went to join them.

Floodpaw was moving to meet a group of cats who looked close to his age and Fogpaw decided to follow him. Slatepaw followed her, both of them trailing after Floodpaw like ducklets.

“Have fun and be respectful!” Pantherhaze called after them.

“We will!” squeaked Slatepaw.

“Hey!” A pale, spotted tabby looked up as Floodpaw approached. “Floodpaw, how’s it going?”

“Great,” purred Floodpaw, “We’ve got some big news tonight. I’m excited for you to hear it.”

“Ooh, well now I’m invested,” he grinned.

“You’ve got some kittens stuck to your fur,” said a white she-cat with a ginger striped tail. The ginger cat wearing moth wings next to her smiled in a way that struck Fogpaw as mysterious.

“Oh,” Floodpaw turned to look at them and grimaced a little. “Right, uh, this is Fogpaw and Slatepaw.”

“Hi!” Fogpaw grinned. Slatepaw pressed into her side nervously.

Floodpaw continued, “Uh, guys, these are my friends.” The white cat huffed a mean laugh. “Boldmoth and Fishtrick are from EarthClan and Fernpaw is from SkyClan.”

“It’s Fernspeckle now!” beamed the spotted tabby.

“Aw, really?” frowned Floodpaw. “I mean, congrats, but I was sure I was gonna get my name before you!”

“Having a leader as your mother has its perks,” Fernspeckle laughed.

“An admission you graduated before you were ready,” Fishtrick hummed.

“You’ll get your name soon,” Boldmoth said, looking at Floodpaw.

“Thanks,” he blushed under her cool, golden gaze.

“Your mom is the leader?” Fogpaw asked loudly. Floodpaw and his friends all winced.

“Yeah,” said Fernspeckle, “Snowstar’s my mother.”

“That’s so cool,” Fogpaw said seriously. “My mom’s dead.” Fernspeckle froze in surprise. Fishtrick raised a brow skeptically. Boldmoth frowned sympathetically.

“Hey, uh,” Floodpaw said quickly, “Look, there’s an apprentice your age, why don’t you guys go talk to him?” FallenClan had arrived and Fogpaw followed Floodpaw’s gaze to a pale ginger tom who looked just a little bit older than her and Slatepaw settling down beside a warrior with brown points.

“Oh, okay,” she said, wilting a little. She couldn’t help but feel like Floodpaw didn’t want her around. Still, she was interested in making a new friend so she looked at Slatepaw and said, “Come on, let’s go say hi!” Slatepaw gave a worried noise through pursed lips and glanced over at Floodpaw’s friends before nodding. Fogpaw started to make her way through the crowd, Slatepaw pressed against her side.

Behind her, she heard Floodpaw say, “Yikes, sorry about that, guys.” She sighed a little.

“Fogpaw, why did you say that?” Slatepaw asked quietly.

“Huh?” she asked, looking over. “Say what?”

“You know,” Slatepaw chewed her lip worriedly. “About mama.”

“Oh,” Fogpaw shrugged. She had already forgotten about that. “Cause it’s true?”

“Right,” Slatepaw said softly. Fogpaw frowned, confused. Shaking her head, she decided to ignore it and focus on meeting this new apprentice.

As they drew close, she raised her tail and said, “Hi there! I’m Fogpaw and this is my sister Slatepaw! What’s your name?” The apprentice looked over at her apprehensively.

Beside him, his mentor smiled and said, “I’m Duskstep and this is Lionpaw. We’re from FallenClan.” He nudged Lionpaw’s leg gently.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Lionpaw, barely audible but in a listless way, not like Slatepaw’s nervous whispering. It was like he didn’t have the energy to speak any louder. Fogpaw immediately decided that he seemed extremely boring. She glanced back over to where Floodpaw was joking with his friends and wished she could just go back and hang out with them.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” smiled Slatepaw as they sat down. “Do you know Poppybird?”

“Yes,” purred Duskstep, “she’s our Clan’s mediator.”

“She was friends with our mama,” Slatepaw said. “She comes and visits us sometimes.”

“That’s nice,” said Duskstep.

“She mentioned you,” said Slatepaw, looking at Lionpaw. He sat up a little straighter and blinked at her. Fogpaw yawned.

“She did?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Slatepaw said. “We asked her about the kits in FallenClan and she talked about you.” Fogpaw groaned and stood to go find someone else to sit with. She wasn’t going to stay here and listen to boring small talk all gathering.

“W- Fogpaw, where are you going?” asked Slatepaw.

“I dunno,” Fogpaw shrugged, “to find Scorchplume or something.”

“Oh, okay…” Slatepaw frowned. Fogpaw wasn’t sure why she was upset but it annoyed her. Huffling she turned and stomped away.

The meeting was packed. Fogpaw hadn’t seen this many cats since they had gathered in camp for the big battle. The noise of it made her hackles prickle unconsciously. She reared onto her hind legs to try and spot her mentor’s bright ginger pelt. It was difficult with the height of the other cats. She padded a bit to the side to try and find a better vantage point, then someone right next to her spoke, throwing her off guard.

“Oh! Look at that!” said a she-cat nearby. Fogpaw looked on instinct and realized the grey tabby was looking right at her.

“Uh…” She glanced around to make sure there wasn’t something else the cat could be looking at.

“I know that pelt,” continued the cat. “You look just like the old tom Snowstar was fighting in the snowstorm battle!”

“Really?” asked the brown tabby next to her. This one narrowed her eyes at Fogpaw, making her want to squirm. “One of the rogues?”

“Yes, exactly,” said the first cat. “Hello there, kit, what’s your name?” Fogpaw swallowed. At least they were talking to her now instead of about her.

“Fogpaw,” she said. “Who are you?”

“I’m Greyvoice,” said the first cat with a smile, “and this is Perchingcall. Please, why don’t you come sit with us?”

“Um, okay,” said Fogpaw. The idea that two grown ups wanted her to sit with them was exciting. Smiling, she settled down near them.

Greyvoice scooted closer to her and said, “This is your first gathering, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” nodded Fogpaw. “I got apprenticed last week!”

“That’s so exciting,” purred Greyvoice, attentive and warm. Perchingcall smiled too but it didn’t feel right to Fogpaw. “You’re, um, Smokyrose’s kit, right?”

“Yeah,” Fogpaw nodded again.

“Such a shame about her, by the way,” Greyvoice frowned briefly. “I hope you’re doing alright.”

“I’m fine,” said Fogpaw. Her tail tip twitched a bit - she hated when cats pitied her - but Greyvoice moved on quickly so she let it go.

“I’m so curious though,” said Greyvoice, “I mean, I’ve only heard rumors, so I have to ask: Is it true your father is the rogues’ deputy?”

“Um,” Fogpaw screwed her mouth to the side as she thought. “I think so. His name’s Ghost. He’s the reason our mom is dead.” Or something like that. No one would tell her for certain what had happened. She had been forced to glean a few details from overheard conversations.

Greyvoice and Perchingcall at least didn’t get those weird, surprised expressions on their faces like Floodpaw's friends had. Perchingcall frowned like she wanted to tear Ghost’s pelt and Greyvoice let out a soft little noise of sympathy.

“That’s terrible,” said Greyvoice. “What do you mean, he’s the reason why? I only heard that she had died, I didn’t hear what happened.”

“And you won’t,” said Scorchplume, appearing suddenly behind Fogpaw. Her sharp blue eyes were narrowed at Greyvoice as she said, “Fogpaw get up. You’re going to come sit with me.”

“But-” Fogpaw bristled in protest, “But I was just making friends!”

“We don’t make friends with other Clans,” Scorchplume scowled, still not looking at her. “A warrior should know better.” Her words felt pointed at Greyvoice, just as sharp as her eyes. Fogpaw frowned and got to her feet.

“Fine,” she grumbled. Maybe her spell had been wrong and Scorchplume wasn’t a good mentor.

Greyvoice preened her chest a bit and said, “Well I’m fine considering us friends, Fogpaw. Maybe I’ll see you some other time.”

Scorchplume growled a warning. “Stay away from my apprentice, Greyvoice.” The warrior in question huffed irritably but made no further comments. Scorchplume nudged Fogpaw towards the back of the crowd, saying, “That way.”

“I’m going!” Fogpaw griped, stomping off. When they were nearing the back of the crowd, she added, “What was that for? I thought Russetfrond was the one who’s all ‘don’t talk to anybody ever!’” She bobbled her head and deepened her voice as she imitated him.

Scorchplume flicked her tail and wrapped it around Fogpaw to urge her to sit. “Oh, I don’t care about talking to other Clans,” she said, and Fogpaw’s mouth fell open in confusion.

“Then, what-”

“Greyvoice was taking advantage of you,” said Scorchplume simply. “She doesn’t actually want to be your friend, she just wants to know the gossip about your father.”

“Wait, really?” Fogpaw’s ears slid back against her head. She hadn’t been able to tell at all. Her stomach turned into a heavy, nauseous lump.

“Mhm,” said Scorchplume, glancing sideways at her. “I’m not going to let someone like that take advantage of my apprentice.” Her voice caught in her throat on the word, a growl that made Fogpaw feel like Scorchplume would fight a lion for her.

“But, then, why did you lie?” asked Fogpaw.

Scorchplume glanced around as if making sure no one could hear before she said softly, “It’s better if I let her think I haven’t noticed what she actually wants. That way, she underestimates me. That way, I have the advantage next time we meet.” Fogpaw’s eyes were as wide and round as the moon. “So I got you out without tipping her off. I hope I wasn’t too harsh.”

“No, that’s amazing!” Fogpaw breathed. “It’s like magic! You have to teach me!”

Scorchplume’s eyes flickered over her again, a tiny smile poking at the corners of her mouth. “It would be my pleasure,” she said. Fogpaw grinned, kneading the dirt with her paws. The spell had definitely worked.

“Where do we start?” she asked.

“Well-��

Snowstar’s voice boomed over the crowd. “Alright! I think it’s about time we got started!” The assembled cats hushed each other and fell quiet.

“The first step,” Scorchplume spoke quickly and quietly, like she was giving Fogpaw an urgent secret, “is to figure out what cats want. Once you master that, you can start using it to your advantage.”

“Got it,” Fogpaw whispered back.

“As a bit of good news to start off with,” Snowstar continued, “SkyClan welcomes a new warrior, the first of the kits to have survived Red Gut! Fernspeckle has shown himself to be a cat with a quick tongue and a quicker wit and we are beyond proud to have him among our ranks!”

“She’s Fernspeckle’s mom,” Fogpaw whispered to Scorchplume.

Scorchplume raised a brow in interest. “Good to know.”

When the crowd finished chanting Fernspeckle’s name, Snowstar said, “As well, Newleaf has been kind to us. Prey is flowing well and we are happy to continue sharing with our less fortunate neighbors if need be.”

“What does Snowstar want?” Scorchplume whispered to Fogpaw.

“Um… I don’t know.” Fogpaw shrugged. How was she supposed to be able to tell from that?

“She wants to be seen as strong and generous,” answered Scorchplume. “See the way she’s offering to help us like it makes her special? Sometimes what a cat wants is to look a certain way to other people. Remember that.” Fogpaw hummed as she nodded. This was harder than she had expected.

“It’s most appreciated,” Orangestar said, voice wobbling tiredly.

“Yes,” Goldenstar agreed, much firmer, “but RisingClan would like to be self-sufficient again as soon as possible. It is in that vein that I would like to propose another alliance, like the one we made for the battle of the snowstorm.”

“Has there been another prophecy?” Snowstar asked.

“No,” Goldenstar said, “but we have a plan.” She stood and raised her tail confidently and none of the other leaders tried to interrupt her so she continued. “It has recently come to my attention that Razor, the leader of the rogues, is interested in a one on one meeting with me. This meeting will almost certainly be a trap in which he intends to kill me, who he believes to be the Clans’ only leader. We will give him this meeting but we will spring a trap of our own instead!”

RisingClan’s warriors and a few other Clan cats cheered in response. Scorchplume stayed silent so Fogpaw did the same.

“And you need our help to do so,” said Flightstar as if he’d caught her trying to sneak it past him.

“Yes,” said Goldenstar. “RisingClan alone won’t be able to stand against Razor but together we will most definitely be able to overpower him and put an end to this war.”

“Then SkyClan will be there,” said Snowstar. “We would see this conflict put to rest for the good of every Clan.”

“FallenClan as well,” said Flightstar with a twitch of his ear. “Where there’s a fight to be fought you will find the warriors of the deep woods.” A few FallenClan cats crowed proudly.

“What does Flightstar want?” Scorchplume whispered again.

“Um… is it to look a certain way?” asked Fogpaw.

“Mhm.”

“Um… He wants to look brave?”

“Good,” purred Scorchplume. “He wants to look brave and strong and to tell everyone that they couldn’t beat him if they tried.”

“Huh,” Fogpaw squinted up at him. That made sense, she thought.

“What about EarthClan?” Goldenstar asked, looking at Orangestar. “We were hoping to use the edge of your forest for the meeting spot, to help hide our warriors and provide a terrain advantage.”

Orangestar shifted and nodded. “Yes. EarthClan will stand by you. StarClan willing, this is the final battle of this war.”

“StarClan willing,” nodded Snowstar.

“Excellent,” Goldenstar said. “I will reach out to you to pick the location of the ambush. After that, I’ll send for a meeting with the leaders and things will be put into motion.” She shifted her posture to something a little more open and said, “In other news, we have two new apprentices with us today, Fogpaw and Slatepaw.”

Fogpaw jumped to her feet and stood up tall so everyone could see her. A few cats tossed glances her way. She noticed Greyvoice among them. Scorchplume’s tail swished over her back, urging her to sit, and she did. The meeting moved on. The other Clans had very little news to share and soon after, RisingClan was heading home.

“Thanks for teaching me,” Fogpaw said as she padded with Scorchplume to join the others.

“It’s my job isn’t it?” asked her mentor.

“Yeah, but I don’t think this is part of normal warrior stuff. I knew you were special.”

Scorchplume huffed a laugh. “Good,” she purred, “and don’t forget it.”