[Deleted]

BELIEVE IN STRENGTH

Pumafang

Frankly, Pumafang was exhausted. The two TreeClanners had run into some trouble in the mountains, getting provoked and harassed by a gang of loners, though Timberfrost and Pumafang managed to return to TreeClan in good time nonetheless. Morons. He thought, picturing the pathetic cats in his mind. The two warriors tasked with escorting Magpiewing to the mountains had made sure to make it back to attend the gathering: at least, that was Pumafang's motive, and he hadn't let anything stop him from moving steadily towards his goal. The thought of letting Magpiewing's mischievousness ruin his opportunity to attend such an important occurrance wasn't an option to the colossal warrior.

Besides, Pumafang was eager to hear what Lionstar had to say, and the ongoings of the other clans where also a key piece of the picture. Noticing Foxstar absent from the gathering of NightClan cats made Pumafang mildly intrigued, the more reasonable and sound-minded Briarthroat taking her place. Interesting. The chocolate black tom thought as he slunk into the already packed clearing of Starclan's Claws. TreeClan was the last to arrive, though he hardly minded. All the less time he was expected to converse with others.

Although Timberfrost and Pumafang had been running short on sleep, food, and energy for the past couple days, the warrior found the energy to maintain a commanding posture and presence.

He hadn't been used to the harsh terrain in the mountains, and the snow and ice had made footing slick and dangerous: a warm meal was but a memory, and by the time Pumafang had returned, he had wished he would have taken some traveling herbs. Especially when he noticed a meager, practically empty fresh-kill pile. He shared a scrawny vole with one of his clanmates before hustling out of camp behind Lionstar and Gorsetail. His discomforts sharpened his desires: information and representation was important, and the yearning he felt to serve and protect his clan far outweighed his selfish cravings of food and sleep.

Thus, here he was, plodding threateningly past a few NightClanners, eventually finding a comfortable place to sit in the midst of the gathered apprentices, warriors, and elders of the valley, gazing upon the leaders expectantly, listening to the small-talk of his neighbors, hoping that a dumb cat will let something tactically advantageous slip.

All he heard were petty arguments, cliche conversations, and superficial interest.

Idiots. Pumafang thought matter-of-factly to himself. I'm surrounded by idiots.

TREECLAN | WARRIOR | 27 MOONS

Word Count: 429
Tags: @zen (Magpiewing mention) | Fawn (Lionstar mention) | Ghost the Undead Goddess (Timberfrost mention) | Abyss
Notes: I ran out of good titles the past two posts so I started pulling them from LOTR xD sorry lolz

[Abyss]

Foxfire
She-Cat | 36 Moons | Warrior | Treeclan

---

It truly was an amazement how much could happen to a single clan hardly a moon before the gathering of the give clans which dominated the valley. The sheer severity of the activities that Treeclan had experienced recently was enough to put almost any fellow clan cat in awe. A patrol going about their everyday duties being ambushed by another clan right on the border that separated them, multiple cats suffering injuries and at least one cat losing their life. Then, merely the exact day before the gathering, a Treeclan cat died in the middle of camp after eating a poisoned mouse that had been poisoned by none other than another Treeclan cat. So much activity could cause any cat stress and put their mind into a state of slight panic and constant worry that something else would happen. Third times a charm, as they say.

Yet there were some cats who didn't seem fazed by this bustle of treachery, a particular she-cat of Treeclan being one of them. As Silverstar entered the clearing of Starclan's Claws at the lead of those who had been chosen to attend the gathering, a relatively large deep-red she-cat with piercing amber eyes followed not too far behind him. Her head was held high, her stance was one of confidence and pride, and her menacing eyes were narrowed, a constant glare rewarded to any who dared lock their own orbs with her's. Foxfire, upon first appearance, was not a she-cat to be messed with. She was, internally, determined to make herself stand out among her clanmates and show all of the other clan cats that Treeclan, despite its recent incidents and moments of weakness, was always strong and would remain so no matter what.

As her clanmates somewhat dispersed and their Leader took his place among the other clan Leaders, Foxfire found herself standing near the edge of the clearing, examining the cats around her. Admittedly, the dark she-cat didn't know very many of the cats from the other clans. She had been to a gathering once before during her Apprenticeship, but she hadn't bothered to "make friends" back then like her fellow Apprentices. Every single one of these cats were a threat to her and her clan. Why should anyone feel the need to be friendly towards them? As she looked around, she took note of the fact that three of the other clans, Lightning, Rain, and Stone, were somewhat mixed member wise and were more willing to speak to one another. Nightclan, on the other hand, was keeping more to themselves, with good reason. If it weren't for the fact that this was a gathering, she would currently be ripping the tails and ears off of those Nightclan fools. She didn't hide the clear hatred in her eyes or the angered lashing of her tail behind her each time she would even look at one of those night-dwellers.

As the clearing began to fill with the sound of small-talk among the many cats, Foxfire walked forward, taking a seat merely where she could only hear if something important was stated. Anything that could be used to make the other clans look even more dimwitted than she already saw them. She did briefly notice another of her clanmates sitting a few steps away from her, Pumafang, but she did not look at him, nor did she make any effort to display her acknowledgement of him.

---

Words: 572 | @jet

[Deleted]

BELIEVE IN STRENGTH

Pumafang

"Pumafang!"

The massive, black tom heard an excited whisper behind him, recognizing the voice of his apprentice, Cliffpaw. The ticked tabby tom slunk beside his mentor, fur fluffed in surprise. It was the apprentice's first gathering, and seeing all of the clans gathered in one place should have been amazing, though his eyes were grim and uninterested. He couldn't hide in the shadow of his closer peers anymore, though he had found Pumafang and huddled beside him.

The large, black warrior sighed. What...is he doing? He thought, mildly irritated.

"I don't know where to go. There are so many cats everywhere!" Cliffpaw hissed in frustration.

"Go anywhere. Anywhere besides right next to me."

"But I don't know what to say to anyone."

"Just say...something. I don't know, you're a kid, you know what kids talk about nowadays. Right?"

"What if its different between clans?"

"Isn't that why you're talking?" Pumafang grumbled, glancing down at his apprentice.

Cliffpaw looked away sensitively, huffing and pulling himself to his paws. On his way to mingle, against his preferences, the brown tom mewed a small greeting to Foxfire before disappearing into a mob of felines. Pumafang glanced over her way, though Firestar's speech stole his attention. Her form was thin and ragged. She looked the oldest of all the leaders, the moonlight making her form look small and grim. Russetfall's death? It was no wonder why she looked dead already.

Hawkstar spoke next, more of the same, though without any unfortunate news announced. Silverstar had mentioned the death of Swanfeather, which was understandable: the she-cat was quite old, though it was still a rough blow. Losing a medicine cat as experienced as her must have been disconcerting for the clan. The recently mentioned deaths brought the run-in with the rogues rushing back into his mind, and the words of the remaining leaders fell on deaf ears. He could still feel the tiny bundle pressed against his chest, the kitten who expired on their journey back.

It wasn't the first time the realization that life was fragile had washed over him, and it wouldn't be the last.

Pumafang heard the last retort Lionstar mentioned coolly to NightClan, a slight smirk creasing his maw as he glanced at some nearby NightClanners. He heard the familiar voice of Cliffpaw snap him out of his taunting arrogance.

"Shut-up!" The apprentice hissed to a fluffy, mostly white NightClan she-cat, his fur spiked in frustration. Pumafang could tell he was on the brink of making an irreversible and inciting remark to Mousepaw.

The TreeClan warrior's heart skipped. His apprentice was hardly against getting physical, wherever and whenever: statesmanship had always been the weakest of his skills, along with sympathy and self-control. The look in the young tom's eyes was the same look the kit gave him during battle training, when he was pushed to the precipitous edge of his composure. The young tom started up again, voice seething.

"I bet Blackwolf-"

Not good. Pumafang thought, rushing over to the bickering apprentices with his fur spiked, eyes fiery with irritation.

"Shut your mouth Cliffpaw. It's time to go." He hissed, shoving his apprentice away from the mostly white she-cat. Pumafang glanced around him, trying to sum up where the majority of the clan was. He scooted his apprentice towards Foxfire, the closest other TreeClanner to him, assessing from there the verdict of the leaders.

It would be wise for TreeClan to leave.

TREECLAN | WARRIOR | 27 MOONS

Word Count: 586
Tags: Abyss
Notes: xxx