[Fawn]

Lionstar

The crown is getting heavy
But they've written my name in the stars

The sky transitioned from a tired, faded orange to a deep midnight. It was only the fur color of TreeClan's two sentries that told him it wasn't yet pitch black; their jetted coats seemed to swallow the light around it. The wind tugged whiskers and raked spines, turning TreeClan's camp into a big hollow instrument that caught and spat out sound in howls and groans. Until the apprentices had seen to sealing the cracks and holes.

Lionstar's own den, the ancient remains of a felled giant, was well insulated against the bluster and chill. The moment he slipped inside, the sound muffled as though smothered under feathers, lending him peace he had trouble keeping hold of. May StarClan light your path, Falconstorm. The Clan's singular medicine cat had departed earlier in the day, needing to cross the entire valley to reach the Moon Tree. Lionstar had fought the urge to go with him, this time; concern for his Clan made the beast of impatience rear it's ugly head. He needed answers.

Impatience was a thing with claws. Claws that pricked the nape of his neck and the base of his spine, making it impossible for him to truly relax. After so many seasons of this, waiting on word from his ancestors never got any easier. There was even a chance their ancestors would stay silent, and Falconstorm would come home with nothing new to divulge. Lionstar circled his nest once, twice, and then lowered himself to the moss. If he just shut his eyes for a little while, perhaps the night would pass all the quicker. His thoughts more raucous than the leaf-fall winds, Lionstar shifted, restless and short-tempered, as sleep eluded him.

It wasn't until moonhigh that sleep swallowed him whole, slowing the great tom's breaths into a steady, deep rhythm.

Just as Lionstar had been anxious to speak with StarClan, StarClan had been anxious to speak with him.

"Wake up, Lionstar."

Consciousness returned to him in a rushed breath, the deafening silence of a star-wooded forest making even a leader as old and experienced as he feel humbled. A she-cat's eyes were upon him, that much he could see - but plenty more gleamed and glinted from surrounding mistral woodland, their shapes loosely defined and just out of reach. As if all his compounding questions had dried up, Lionstar felt his throat turn dry as bark, his tongue trapped between his teeth as he waited for the she-cat to speak.

It was a StarClan cat he had met only once before, in one of the (fortunately) few moments when he had lost a life. What did it mean, that she was here and not one of his kin such as Badgerstripe or Sandfur? Lionstar listened in wary silence as the mist rolled in, the billious cloudlike substance as thick and oppressive as spiders' webs.

The other eyes watching them seemed to vanish, swallowed up by the thickening mist. Cherrystar, as if ushered on by some unseen sign, anchored him under the weight of her stare.
"TreeClan has allowed the darkness to triumph for too long, Lionstar. Wrath and ruin have eyes upon the Clan. Will you stand by and let TreeClan fall?"

Lionstar bristled, jaw flexing with a wild shake of his mane. "Never. I have given my life to TreeClan. Nothing's going to change that now."

There was the faintest hint of a pleased smile on the she-cat's face, before her expression returned to stern and stonelike.

"Through their actions, and the thriving animosity of seasons upon seasons, NightClan has waged war upon TreeClan. They have taken land, they have taken prey, and they have taken your deputy's livelihood. If you do not hold them accountable, they will take even more."

Familiar scents tangled with the mist, swirling around Lionstar in a chaotic cloud: Honeysong, his kits, Gorsetail, Feathercloud, Falconstorm, Moonfeather and Finchcloud... Lionstar's muscles tightened, the tom flashing Cherrystar a dark look. She need not be so heavy-handed. "I know the price of cowardice, Cherrystar."

"Then what is staying your claws?" Cherrystar retorted, her voice sharp enough to cut through to his heart.

"I..." The words got caught in the brambles knotting his throat. His claws pricked the starry grass, and he forced the words to come out, his voice rough with this secret truth. "I am afraid."

Cherrystar stayed perfectly still, her gaze never wavering.

"I am afraid. For them." Lionstar clarified, some of the anger draining from his bones. "Blood. Death. Pain. Giving the order to fight is hard," he watched Cherrystar with renewed wariness, wondering if she'd ever dealt with war in her lifetime. "Accepting the consequences? The lives lost? harder."

"War is never easy, Lionstar." Cherrystar leveled. "What kind of leader will you be? You can fight the darkness head on, or you can wait for the darkness to come to you."

The mist pressed closer, blackening and thickening as though smoke from a forest fire, plunging the nightscape into a cold, eerie darkness. Cherrystar's voice, the loudest amongst a myriad of fading whispers and dimming stars, still rung inside Lionstar's head when he regained consciousness.

TreeClan can be either the victims or the victors. The choice is yours, Lionstar.

StarClan returned him to the muffled interior of the Ancient Stump. The absence of the wind made StarClan's message seem that much more deafening. Are they pushing me to make a specific choice? Or is this choice really mine to make? His heart weighed heavy as a stone, and he shoved through the stump's exit until he was bathed in fresh air once more.

The faintest whiskers of dawn were brushing against the treetops. Lionstar welcomed the leaf-fall light.

He'd had enough of darkness.

I've been building up all these kingdoms for so long
It's good to be king

105 Moons || TreeClan || 950 Words || Justice @jet

Takes place Leaf-Fall 11th, the night of the Medicine Cat Meeting.