[Hellion]

Swanfeather

---

The moon had nearly peaked in the sky, but the shadow pointed she-cat paid no attention. It was careful planning that prevented the current 'leader' of RainClan to gain in her nine lives. Swanfeather had kept herself busy and avoided the leader-to-be with well worded explanations on why they couldn't go. The end of the seasoning was approaching and all her excuses were starting to run thin like melting ice.

Her actions was a treasonous act fueled by hate and anger. Timberwing was of the same blood and loyalty that killed her mate Frostfang. NightClan had been a thorn in RainClan's side for countless moons. She couldn't just let that vile hunk of rotten frogs take up leadership. It was one thing with Razorstar, but something entirely different with the orange she-cat.

Swanfeather had be waiting out the leafbare season and kept preventing travel in hopes that Timberwing would get sick. A life was easily lost during the harshness of the coldest time for them all. Timberwing's death would be mourned but a better more pure leader would be able to take her place. Swanfeather had only hoped she would have died sooner rather than later.

With the gathering group leaving in a few short minutes it was now or never to bring attention to what she felt. She had lied before with the situation of StoneClan. StarClan would always be on her side. Ottersplash was still young and it always took time for StarClan to visit, at least that is what she kept telling her apprentice when he asked why their ancestors were so quiet.

Exiting her den, the she-cat quickly climbed onto the river stone and let out a sharp yowl. "Loyal members of RainClan, gather here. We must not allow such a cat to lead our Clan." She paused, few of her fellow clanmate's perked their heads up. Some looked confused, others made quick connections to what she was implying. "Timberwing is of NightClan blood and had left her birthclan to join us. What does that say about her loyalty?! How can we be confident in our leader if the blood of theives and murders. Run in her veins.!" Her blue eyes narrowed down to gaze at the cats who gathered. There was an alliance forming, those who agreed let out their cheers, others did not. Swanfeather was starting something and it wasn't going to end well.

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all the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me forever and forever
And I know it's only in my mind

Word Count:: ---
Tag::@ghostlight
Notes:: Leafbare 26. Right before the gathering.

[Insidious]

He was already in a foul mood. Whenever he thought he was on the verge of a smirk, no matter how sarcastic, he would see Coldpaw and immediately retreat back into his cold-hearted hatred for his denmate. He couldn't get over it no matter how hard he tried. What he said about his dead father was cruel - not that Pikepaw had said anything nice - but he refused to take responsibility for what transpired.

When Swanfeather asked for the loyal cats of RainClan to gather, he was one of the first to appear. He had a high opinion of her, and that wasn't something he tended to admit to without a fight. It was because she had been able to overlook Razorstar's half-blood and accept him as the leader of RainClan, even if that acceptance was only issued in its entirety after it was too late. She had his full attention, and perhaps three-quarters of his respect and counting, but what came out of her mouth next sent his high opinion tumbling down the drain.

Pikepaw's expression dropped in a clear display of shock, but it didn't take long for his brows to knit together in anger. "What's wrong with you?" He didn't care how much attention he brought to himself. He didn't care if anyone thought he was speaking out of line to their medicine cat. She was no better than Coldpaw. She was worse, and that realization only proved to solidify his resolve. "My father made her the deputy of our clan in complete confidence. Her loyalty is unquestionable." He met each pair of eyes that had settled on him evenly before sharply looking back to Swanfeather. There was only one word for the look on his face: It was absolute disgust. "Do you think so lowly of my father that you can't even support one decision he made? After he died for you?"

He thought with haste that she didn't deserve to be alive, and that he would trade her life for his father's in a heartbeat. It was a sick thought, but he could only imagine what was going through her head to make her say these things so boldly.

Hellion

[Fawn]

Russethawk
Tom || 33 Moons || RainClan || Warrior
Divided We Fall

The moonlight shone silver on the ruddy tom's thick-furred back as he stretched near the Clan entrance. He was looking forward to casting aside some of this winter misery in favor of good conversation and hopefully interesting news. It had been too long since he'd gone a day without worrying—tonight would be the one night he got to relax.

Or so he thought.

Deep red ears rotated, catching the barbed words of Swanfeather from the river stone. What?! His eyes widened, comparable to a trout yanked out of the rushing waters, mouth agape as his world was suddenly flipped on its head. When the shock subsided—his pawsteps already carrying him quickly to the River Stone—anger and righteous indignation took its place.

But, it seemed, his apprentice was one step ahead. Pikepaw had always been outspoken, even blunt to the point of rudeness. Russethawk saw the young tom speak like he fought his battles—with precise, painful jabs.
"Quiet, Pikepaw." He mewed, exercising Razorstar's brand of sternness with a single emerald look, standing beside the dark tabby tom as he directed his gaze next to Swanfeather.

"I know we've had our differences with NightClan—" Russethawk's ear twitched, hearing a few disgruntled murmurs from the crowd. "—But Timberwing isn't a NightClan cat anymore. She's as much RainClan as any of you! Or is it only blood that makes us who we are? And Swanfeather, it's wrong to undo Razorstar's choice for deputy, you can't stand there and tell us otherwise."

How can they divide themselves so easily? It bothered him, bothered him in that part of his soul that was eternally optimistic, the burning flame in his heart that believed RainClan was the greatest Clan in the valley—in spite of their shortcomings. In spite of the prejudice that had existed before.

With another blossom of irritation, he turned scolding eyes to his denmates, daring anyone to meet his fiery stare. "I thought we were past this." Times were difficult, more difficult then they had been, even during the flood of last New Leaf. He understood the desperation, and maybe if they weren't all half starved, the Clan wouldn't be threatening to tear itself apart from the inside out.

He hated to stand against RainClan's medicine cat(did he even have such authority?), but if Swanfeather seriously tried to stop Timberwing from becoming Timberstar, then he'd have to do something. Russethawk kept a keen eye on Pikepaw.

Before his apprentice did.

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Word Count: 417 Words
Tags: @ghostlight , Hellion , Insidious , Phoenix

[Hellion]

She knew from those who gathered that she'd likely be meet with confusion. Most cats knew of her purist tendencies but none knew of how deep her hatred for NightClan went. She wasn't afraid of what she was doing, she had to be heard. What she hadn't expected was Pikepaw to be vocal, apprentices tended to keep their mouths shuts, he wasn't like them.

Her ice blue eyes narrowed down to the young cat, her face tight as she held back a growl. "Nothing is wrong with me, RainClan doesn't need to be lead by demon of the night!" Her words were sharp, eyes fobidden to relax as she stared down at him.

Pikepaw spoke of his father, she expected that. The young tom was likely shaped by his father's death, still clining to the kit-like hope that life was easy. He had a lot to learn. Despite her own feelings towards death and the look on her face, she nearly faltered when he brought up what had happened. The fox that nearly killed her but ended Razorstar's short life flashed before her eyes, forcing her rarely used claws to unsheathed and scraped against the rock. The prickle of fear running down her spin.

"It was a fox that killed your father. I believe it was sign from StarClan that his fox colored she-cat is a traitor!" She barely managed to answer him without pausing. It was never easy to lie about their ancestors and such a claim was a challenge.

The next to question her was none other than Russethawk. The aptly named tom had his own words to add to the exchange. He thought he knew of her feelings. She was tempted to spit at his words, no one understood her pain. The tom continued to speak and in that moment Swanfeather growled at his words. "Don't you dare say such a thing! She will never be RainClan just as a fish will never fly!" Anger rose up in her voice as her tail lashed. A few cats that supported her yowled in agreement, others whispered in confusion, conflicted.

"Those who agree rise up against this foul waste of fur," Swanfeather spoke every words with clear dictation, so there was no miscommunication, it had begun.

[Phoenix]

UNITED WE STAND

No one really knew, of course, who would be chosen to go to the Gathering, but Bravebird found himself hoping that Timberwing might get the hint if he lingered close enough to the entrance. He had no friends in the other clans that he yearned to see in particular; the season had simply been a harsh one, and he found himself longing for the pleasant distraction that a Gathering would provide. If the other clans had suffered as much as RainClan had, then he thought that they could all use something to raise their spirits. Thoughts drifting inexplicably toward their late leader, he cast a glance at the nearby silhouette of Russethawk. His best friend’s apprentice had lost his father in the same act that had saved his own mother. RainClan might have kept their medicine cat at the cost of their leader, but Bravebird knew deep in his heart that he would have it no other way. At the thought of Pikepaw, Minnowpaw, and Quietpaw growing up fatherless, a little regret curled uncomfortably in his gut, but a selfish relief that he still had Swanfeather around far outweighed any guilt he might feel for his thoughts.

Ever since the she-cat’s close brush with death and the stark reminder of her mortality, he had found himself glancing more often toward the shadowed opening of her den, checking to make sure that she was still passing on her knowledge to Ottersplash or taking inventory of the herbs or caring for some sick cat – anything to reassure himself that she was still there. He was not ready for her to go. If he was honest with himself, he would never be ready for her to go. At the mere thought of losing her, he wanted to rally against the inevitability of StarClan, fight tooth and claw against the unrelenting wave that swept them all away in the end. Although he knew that claws would do nothing to prevent her from slipping away when her time came, it was a horrible truth that he refused to face.

When he heard Swanfeather’s yowl split the relative silence, he turned with growing dread. The last time he remembered her addressing the clan from that particular perch had been to announce that Sandstar would lead RainClan. Had something happened to Timberwing? But then her words reached his ears, and he felt his heart stop. Nothing had happened to Timberwing – yet. He had known that his mother did not view NightClan with any particular fondness, but he realized now that perhaps he had not fully grasped the extent of her hatred for their neighbors; they had never really talked about it, and figuring that it was her story to tell whenever she wanted to, he had never really asked. A glance to the side as he caught motion in the corner of his eye showed Russethawk’s indignant strides toward the River Stone, and Bravebird found himself following, albeit with less righteous outrage and more disbelief.

What was Swanfeather doing?

Not wanting to enter the group of cats that had gathered around the base of the stone, he kept toward the fringe, eyes searching the crowd as he tried to get a sense of the clan’s thoughts. Pikepaw and Russethawk spoke their objections, one with more tact than the other, and he turned bright blue eyes toward the medicine cat as she fired back equally passionate responses. He looked at his friend, not entirely surprised – Russethawk had always had one of the best hearts in the clan – but not without a little hurt as well. This was his mother. There were murmurs of agreement, but no one had announced their loyalty to her as boldly as others had shouted their objections. He wanted to defend his mother from their accusations and their doubts, and his paws seemed to act of their own accord. Without explicit permission from his mind, they led him forward, and he brushed silently past his old friend.

“I trust you,” He spoke simply, quietly, blue eyes locked on her familiar pair. “I have always trusted you.” Of course he trusted her, and of course he would stand beside her – how could he do any different? He owed his life to her. She was his family, his mother, and his loyalty and love for her were as strong as any bonds forged by blood. Perhaps he did not quite know what to think of her accusations about Timberwing, for the deputy had never given him any reason to doubt her loyalty, but he knew – he just knew – that Swanfeather would not bring up serious accusations such as these without good reason. Turning, he broke eye contact and glanced around at their audience. “When has Swanfeather ever led us astray before?” He asked gently, tail flicking as he could not quite meet Russethawk’s gaze. He did not want to see what he knew he would find there.

Bravebird | RainClan | Warrior | --

DIVIDED WE FALL

[Deleted]

The moon was rising higher. As the hour grew later, Frozenpaw's eyelids grew heavier. She would have gladly been in her nest by now, curled up tight against the chill in the air, but her mentor had blocked her path to her nest earlier. She didn't understand why, but a number of other cats were away from their nests, too, so she didn't feel so alone. It was late, it was nighttime, why weren't they all in their nests? She had tried to plead with her mentor for answers, but it seemed his ears worked just as much as hers, and he only gave her odd smiles and head shakes. So, she had given up asking, settling instead to sit at the edge of the gathered cats with her fur stuck out against the cold.

Her green eyes were observing the small crowd, so when the cats began to perk up, she noticed immediately, though who had drawn their attention was a different matter entirely. Following the gaze of one of the cats, her eyes were drawn to the place where the leader often stood. However, when her pale green eyes reached the stone, it wasn't the cat she recognised as leader. It was another, the she-cat who always smelled of funny grasses; she remembered going to her several times when she was young. But why was she standing there, and not in her den?

Frozenpaw's head tilted as she watched the healer. She was speaking, that much she knew, but the words, as always, eluded her. Once the she-cat's mouth stopped moving, Frozenpaw looked away, back toward the crowd of warriors. She knew how these things worked: one would move their mouth, then another would replicate. And without fail, a cat stepped closer and responded. Frozenpaw watched as one by one cats spoke up. She didn't know what they were saying, but she felt the shift in the air. Before, there had been a sense of excitement lingering in the air, but now, there was a heavy tension, and it made her fur prickle with unease.

Her head flicked back to the healer, her eyes widening as she saw the anger in her stance. Uh-oh. Sensing the anger in the air, and knowing that nothing good could come of it, Frozenpaw rose. Her fur was fluffed out, both from anxiety and from the cold, and she took a few hesitant steps forward. As she approached the circle of cats who seemed to be going at it the most--the healer, a fellow apprentice, a red-furred tom, and a white-furred tom--she took a deep breath to steady herself.

She stepped up into the circle and made herself heard. "Meow!" The apprentice looked at each cat in turn, holding their gaze and calling out to them. She meowed at them all, pleading with them to stop, to come to their senses and calm down. She couldn't hear what they were saying, and they couldn't understand her intentions, but that wouldn't stop her from trying. She turned to face the healer, and with a pleading look in her eyes, meowed once more. Stop this.

[Insidious]

Russethawk tried to silence him, but with storm clouds hanging behind his eyes, he dismissed his mentor's attempt, meeting the tom's strict look with anger and contempt. "No." Pikepaw's tail lashed, holding back a snarl; Russethawk wasn't his enemy right now. "I won't be quiet. She's lost her mind." He raised his voice towards the end, looking at their medicine cat coldly, before taking a moment to look at the cats around him who had begun to side with her.

Bravebird, in particular, caught his eye, for he was the first to side with her openly. His voice was gentle, and his words would've been almost convincing had the conversation been about literally anything else. This time, Pikepaw didn't hold back his snarl. "When has she ever led us astray? How about right now." That was good enough for him. He didn't need another example when the one unraveling right before him hit so close to home. Tight-lipped, and getting angrier by the second, he shook his head, softened by Frozenpaw's attempt nearby to calm everyone down. She couldn't possibly understand. For a moment he caught himself feeling envious. "I won't stand here a second longer to listen to this nonsense. You're wrong, Swanfeather, Bravebird, all of you - I stand with Timberwing." Pikepaw turned away from the crowd immediately, not giving anyone a chance to comfort him, or to counter his words.

Hellion, Fawn, Phoenix & Amber