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The pale light, so different from the unnatural yellow that shines from Upwalker places, filters down through the leafs of WoodClanâs great forests and lights entire sections of the ForageClan trail.
Each clan must make a very different trek to get there. ForageClan goes north from their camp, slip under the Thunder Stream bridge, and skirt the banks of the Star Trail until Kitfoot Pass is in sight. Here they turn, and go west until they reach the rim of a rounded ditch. WoodClan, on the other hand, travels a path reminiscent of a flying bird. Down from their camp to Kitfoot Pass, across the Star Trail, and westward again until they too reach the ditchâs rim. Here both clans descend into their final destination. Twolegâs Wheel. This place, a perfectly round hole in the ground, is where the clans converge every full moon, at peace, to discuss whatever is at the front of their minds. At this Gathering, itâs the disappearances. Thirteen cats, gone, and now StarClan has chosen to step in.
And tonight, the Wheel is more packed than ever. Every cat is here, from the oldest Elder to the Youngest kit, because no one is safe alone. Not even in camp.
Thereâs a sense of apprehension in the air, as if every cat is now awaiting attack, but also of eagerness. A single sniff would tell you that even those who donât know whatâs about to be revealed are excited to find out. Chatter fills the level pit, louder than ever before, and cats greet their cross clan acquaintances and friends. The pit is positively saturated with the scent of cat. Apprentices and kits, many of whom have never even attended a gathering, canât help but run wild, sparring and yowling, completely overcome by the sheer thrill of being surrounded by so many cats.
Above it all, the moon rises higher still in the sky. Not a cloud mars itâs light, StarClan clearly wants this gathering to happen.
Eventually, the clan catâs chatter dwindles off and six cats, the leaders of WoodClan and ForageClan, Nettlestar and Jaystar, their deputies, Bluecoat and Lionheart, and the clan Medicine Cats, Mossclaw and Brindlepelt, climb the Center Stone. In unison, the leaders call their clans to attention, their yowls echoing all about Twolegâs Wheel. Their control is absolute. Every cat falls silent and no one can help but wonder⊠What will they say next?
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The young tabby warrior hunched beneath the Center Stone, tail curled at her feet like a chain. Her green eyes, normally dulled after Moonstep's death, were exceptionally bright tonight. Tonight was a night for answers. Nettlestar and Jaystar would explain what they would do in light of the recent events. Mossclaw and Brindlepelt would enlighten the cats as the StarClan's guidance.
Skyclaw, her old mentor, walked up, accompanied by Tawnynose and a ForageClan cat. Her heart jumped a bit, even in grief, at the presence of the slightly older Tawnynose, who nudged her affectionately - in friendship - on the shoulder. "We'll figure out what's happened," he mewed, uncertain of how to comfort his friend. Skyclaw looked on introspectively. Her grey role-model's tail flicked uncomfortably; the ForageClan was clearly one of the more important ones.
She replied, "I know we will. But that doesn't change that he's gone. All of them are." She felt selfish for believing for that she was lucky for only losing one cat that she had known well. The entire situation was filled with pain and sadness.
But most importantly, vengence. Sunpelt truly desired only one thing: to find the thing that had torn her brother from her and make it suffer. Die.
"Well, I suppose that I'd better go," mewed the ForageClan cat unexpectedly. Sunpelt turned to him, uncertain. But then he leapt up to Center Stone, along with the other Clan leaders. Oh. That explains that. She still wasn't sure who the ForageClan cat was, but he was one of the important cats in ForageClan. Just then, their yowls echoed from the trees around Twoleg's Wheel, ricocheting off every cat, who fell silent at their call to listen. Sunpelt was sure that there had never been a more important Clan Gathering in the history of WoodClan and ForageClan. She sat on her haunches at the foot of the Center Stone, alongside Tawnynose and Skyclaw, prepared for whatever the leaders had to tell their Clans.
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âYou donât need to wait for me next time Mossclaw. Iâll be just fine by myself, and Iâm sure the leaders wouldâve liked to talk to you.â In truth, the apprenticehood desire to not be treated like a kit had found its way to the surface. Itâs not like she couldnât run, but it often hurt to put continual stress on her twisted feet.
Still, fourteen toes or otherwise, she was just as much a warrior as anyone else. She would deal with it, and sheâd keep quiet about it too. Mossclaw simply blinked at her.
âYes, well⊠I thought you might not want to be left alone with the kits and elders this time. As deserving of respect as Beavertail is, his stories do get oldâŠâ
At this, Twoflower gave a small mewl of laughter. She wouldnât have minded being back with the kits, not at all, but Beavertailâs stories⊠He was right about those.
âMrrr! Like the one about Longtail and-âThey spoke in unison now, âThe battle for Kitâs Foot Pond!â Now both siblings, the only survivors of a litter of three, âMr-owedâ at their memories of the old catâs story.
In reality though, Twoflower admitted, that was quite an important victory. It was the day we won back the eastern shore from ForageClan paws. She looked to her brother. We werenât even born yet.
Reveling in Mossclawâs laughter, it was a stiff but pleasant baritone she rarely got to hear, Twoflower looked up into the stars. Brightpaw was up there somewhere, sharing in this moment from his spot in Silverpelt.
Thank you. She thought. Even among the killings and disappearances, horrible occurrences that were at the front of every catâs mind, she knew she had to be grateful for this moment. It was so uncommon for her and Mossclaw to connect like this, to be almost completely at ease. Most of their conversations were short and detached, and ended in âYes Mossclawâ or âNo Twoflowerâ. She was unsure what had forced this change, even temporarily, to her brotherâs normally brooding and moody demeanor. She pondered this for a moment. It couldnât be the message from StarClan, could it? What message would make him act like this, walking with her, even sticking around long enough to hear a joke?
Had they been warned of more deaths?
As his laughter died, silence fell between the cats. Together, they looked down upon Twolegâs Wheel. Most of the cats she recognized sat or stood in groups, trying their best to predict what the clan leaders and medicine cats would have to say, but a few shared tongues with cats from WoodClan.
Those bonds must be very strong to whether all our differences, to withstand all the violence. Twoflower noted. I donât think I could ever befriend a ForageClan cat. Theyâre too unstable, picking and choosing what codes to uphold⊠The fifteenth law, âI will reject the soft life of a kittypetâ, came to mind.
With a quick shake of her head, Twoflower banished these thoughts from her mind and search the crowds below for her apprentice, Lilypaw. Twoflower hadnât made the white she-cat walk with her, she knew that a comfortable pace for her would be several steps behind that of a young cat bursting with so much enthusiasm and energy, but she did want to make sure sheâd arrived okay. Call it maternal instinct. Catching the eye of the snowy apprentice, she was play-fighting with a WoodClan friend, Twoflower gave her a nod. The site of young cats at play yanked her longing for kits to the surface. It was one she usually kept at the back of her mind, behind her responsibilities as a warrior and loyalty to her clan, and Twoflower tried her best not to indulge it. Returning her attention to Mossclaw, she now spoke to him not as her brother, but as WoodClanâs medicine cat.
âMossclaw, has StarClan revealed anything truly important? Will it really save us?â Instead of answering, Mossclaw looked into the round pit. His eyes seemed to find rest on another cat, a large tabby from ForageClan. His gaze hovered there, on a cat she was certain he had never met, for several moments. Then the leaderâs yowl, a call from Nettlestar and Jaystar to begin the meeting, rang about the Wheel.
âIt is. And I think it will.â Then Mossclaw dipped his head, and ran down the slope in leaps and bounds until he reached the base of the Center Stone. As WoodClanâs medicine cat began to climb, Twoflower abandoned her place at the Wheelâs rim and took her spot among the other cats.
Though Greypad greeted her with a welcoming tongue, the disfigured warrior could barely take her eyes off Mossclaw to reply.
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"Hawkfrost! Hawkfrost! I want to go over there." Darkpaw said, looking at his mentor excitedly. He was young still, and it was only his second gathering. And yet it was perhaps the most important gathering that he would attend in his life. Darkpaw, however, was not paying attention to the tension in the air. He was looking at a group of WoodClan apprentices, mingling with a few of the ForageClan apprentices. They were playing easily, the WoodClan and ForageClan youngsters showing off their newly acquired skills. He could hear fetches of their conversations; "Look what my mentor taught me!" or "I'm the fastest in my clan." The normal fare for apprentices to talk about at a gathering. Even though they were gathered together for a grave reason, some apprentices still couldn't hold back the urge to show off. Hawkfrost looked at Darkpaw, who was sitting attentively at his side, but he knew that the young cat did not want to be there. He looked up at his mentor with pleading eyes, until Hawkfrost nodded.
"Very well. But return as soon as she begin the meeting." He said to his over eager apprentice. Darkpaw was gone before Hawkfrost had even finished his sentence.
"He is such an exuberant young cat." Amberpelt commented with laughter in her voice. She flicked her tail easily as she looked around at the gathering. "Do you think they know what it is yet? And what they will do about it?" She asked her brother intently. Hawkfrost looked at her, his claws kneading into the ground.
"I don't know. I thought I heard something about Brindlepelt receiving a sign. But I don't fully understand it. This is too much." Hawkfrost replied, dipping his head to the ground. He had only heard whisperings among his clan, and that was not very much. He was sure that it would be revealed tonight, what else could such a large and prominent gathering be about. He raised his head again, and a cat's eyes on his pelt caught his attention. It was the WoodClan's medicine cat, Mossclaw. He was talking to another, a warrior that Hawkfrost did not know the name of, only that her feet were twisted on the right side. But Mossclaw's eyes were firmly set on Hawkfrost as he spoke. The large tabby flicked his tail, feeling uncomfortable with the stare. Surely he had done nothing to receive such a look?
Hawkfrost flicked his eyes back to his sister, who had not noticed the wondering medicine cat's eyes. And then all at once, the clan leaders, deputies, and medicine cats were beginning to assemble. The meeting was to begin now. He felt Darkpaw wonder back to his side quickly as she hush fell across all the cats. It was the moment that they all had been waiting for. It was time to determine what was to be done about their desperate situation.
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âAll cats of ForageClan and WoodClan, welcome.â The leaderâs voice was deep and hearty, reassuring. Without a twitch or nervous movement, the stocky cat continued. âOur way of life is in danger. Clan cats have been disappearing and we are yet to find out why. There have been no true signs of an attacker, but-âSome catâs patience, or perhaps their courage, snapped and a vicious yowl broke across the clearing.
âWe know! Get on with it!â Several hisses of agreement backed their call. A second cat, a muscled ForageClan tom, shot up from his feet as their jeers rang about the pit.
âSilence WoodClan dirt! Listen when a great leader speaks!â Fur raised, and thick growls passes between the two cats. Almost instantly, clan cats of both sides jumped to their feet to defend their fellow warriors. Twolegâs Wheel was quickly split between the two clans, ForageClan on the right and WoodClan on the left. Elders shifted from their spots, some standing to defend their clan and others simply curling inward to escape the angry cries. Kits hid behind their motherâs legs, and apprentices kneaded the ground with uneasiness and excitement.
âKittypet!â Spat the WoodClan tom. âDoes eating Upwalker garbage make you feel brave? No wonder ForageClanâs been left so alone, no true predator would waste their time!â
âBite your tongue you murderous, worm-brained-â Suddenly, a dark shadow passed over the clearing.
âQUIET!â The bellow, louder than all other voices combined, rained down on the tense cats. A shocked silence spread over the crowds like wild fire. WoodClanâs lithe leader, Nettlestar, stepped to the edge of the Center Stone. Though his voice carried, strong and sure, it was no louder than if he were speaking to a cat right in front of him. âLook skyward clan cats, see what StarClan thinks of your childish bickering.â He gave them a short moment to do so, looking straight forward as he waited. A tide of worry broke across the clearing, and muted whispers began flitting from cat to cat. The moon, which previously lit all of Twolegâs Wheel, was gone. Obscured by a thick blanket of black cloud.
âNow, return to your seats.â Nettlestar, so confident that he was in complete control, turned without waiting to see the cats comply. Next he spoke to Jaystar, barely bothering to lower his voice. âThe time for formalities is over Jaystar. The medicine cats will speak now.â The black leader stalked to the back of the Center Stone without another word, completely ignoring the slightly raised fur of Lionheart, the ForageClan deputy. Then the clan medicine cats, only slightly thrown off by the quick change in schedule, moved the forefront, their strides as wise and proud as the cats of LionClan.
After exchanging a nod with Mossclaw, Brindlepelt spoke first. âClan cats, as you well know, StarClan has chosen to speak to both Mossclaw and myself on the grave matters at hand. Though what theyâve chosen to share may seem unintelligible at first, we have determined that this is because we are meant to work together. In order to save ourselves, we must share our answers.â Where the sweet voice of the speckled she-cat broke off, Mossclaw continued.
âTo myself, StarClan has shown the path. A great, two-tipped flock of geese flew over head as I made my trek to the Star Tunnel. We believe that this, the east, is the direction from which our attackers have come. But this fact is rendered useless without Brindlepeltâs own realization.â The WoodClan medicine cat looked to the other, prompting her to continue. For only a second, a spark of regret twinkled in the tomâs eye.
âI, medicine cat of ForageClan, have received a dream of those who must follow that path. Two Warriors, each chosen by StarClan to fulfill this task. To help save our clans.â Brindlepelt paused, half expecting the other cats to erupt in another frenzy of words, but all eyes were on her. All mouths were locked tightly shut.
As the thick clouds above slowly drifted from the moon, bathing the Center Stone in silver light, Brindlepelt and Mossclaw spoke together. Their voices, deep baritone and gentle soprano, mixed like the verses of a queenâs nursery song.
âOf ForageClan, a tom. Hawkfrost. And of WoodClan, a she-cat. Twoflower. These cats, known for their bravery, loyalty, focus, and strength are the oneâs chosen by StarClan to meet this great challenge. These Warriorâs paws are now forever entwined with the destiny of our clans.â
Twolegâs Wheel had never been louder than it was in the moments that followed, but, as the leaders of ForageClan and WoodClan beckoned the chosen from the pit, itâs unlikely that that fact was anywhere near the front of their minds at all.
Not far from Twolegâs Wheel, a small clearing waits. It is here that Hawkfrost and Twoflower, and anyone else who might be listening, will receiving their instructionsâŠ
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"Those stinking murdering-" The young apprentice began. He had jumped to his feet, and it was almost comical the way he looked. His hair was puffed out on all ends, his tail nearly twice the size of his body, and he was spitting in anger.
"Hold your tongue, Darkpaw." Hawkfrost scolded his apprentice, with a look that instantly silenced the younger cat. Hawkfrost turned his attention back to the two fighting cats, and he was about to walk toward them, to break up their ridiculous fighting when the yowl of Nettlestar silenced everyone.
Hawkfrost followed the leader's advice, and looked up to the sky. He lay his ears back against his head as he noticed the newly obscured moon. He dropped his head back down, sitting back once more on his haunches and blinked, kneading the ground with his claws once more. Gatherings were supposed to be the one time that the clans could come together peacefully. And while they usually agreed for a while, it was never long before one clan got on another. It was a disappointment to Hawkfrost, that even in this grave situation, there were still cats who would pick a fight over nothing. He gave a little sigh to himself, and bumped his nose into his sister's fur, knowing that she felt the same way he did.
Hawkfrost raised his eyes again to look upon Brindlepelt, the beautiful ForageClan medicine cat. He flicked his tail, giving a little chortle of pleasure at her voice. But he listened intently, who was chosen to go on such a journey? And by StarClan themselves. Surely this meant that the future of their clans was going to be settled? StarClan wouldn't let them down.
"Of ForageClan, a tom. Hawkfrost. And of WoodClan, a she-cat. Twoflower." These words were a shock to the tabby, and as he looked up, he realized that heads were turning toward him in all directions. He sat, rooted to the ground, his ice blue eyes opened wide in disbelief. All eyes were upon him, and on one other. At his side, both Darkpaw and Amberpelt were staring at him, their mouths opened. Hawkfrost ignored them, and looked through the rows of eyes that were staring at him, at the other. The warrior with the strange legs. The one that Mossclaw had been talking to earlier.
And that was when the roars of the other cats rose in Hawkfrost's ears. The protestors, the well wishers, the ones in complete disbelief, Hawkfrost heard none of them. He rose to his paws, and padded in the direction that Jaystar and Nettlestar had motioned, ignoring the eyes that followed his every move.
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Murderous! Wormbrained! Why, those slothful, cowardly mouse- Twoflower broke herself from her own thoughts with an approving, though admittedly muted, yowl. It was all but lost in the chaos of the clearing. As she stepped forward, half intending to join the ranks of those who split Twolegâs Wheel in two, a long tabby tail wrapped across her front from shoulder to shoulder.
âPeace child. We cannot fight this night, whatever insults they might throw.â Her mother, Graypad. Twoflowerâs own tail came down to meet the former queens, acknowledging her guidance. Ashamed, Twoflower took a step back from the fray and closed her eyes to clear her head. Then another yowl, louder than all the rest, washed across and through the pelts of every cat in Twolegâs Wheel. Nettlestar!
Twoflower, and a great many other WoodClan cats, crouched ever so slightly at the sound of their leaders call. Their legs bent even more deeply when he began to berate them.
âChildish bickeringâ. He was right about that of course. Then she looked skyward, her paw pads itching for the natural comfort of the glowing moon. Nothing. It was shrouded in a pelt of cloud. Another pang of shame echoed through her limbs. Even StarClan disapprovesâŠ
Hyperaware of the need to be in StarClanâs good graces, Twoflower returned to her original position. What if the cats of Silver Pelt decided to take back whatever aid they had bestowed upon them? The clans couldnât stand to lose another catâŠ
Now, though she listened intently, even Mossclawâs words seemed to pass through one pink ear and out the other.
âStarClan has shown the pathâŠâ
âTwo warriors, each chosenâŠâ
And finally, âOf ForageClan, a tom, Hawkfrost. And of WoodClan, a she-cat, Twoflower.â For a moment, the name didnât register, and the warrior continued to stare skyward, lost in thoughts of Silver Pelt and fate. ThenâŠ
Twoflower? You mean⊠Me? Suddenly Twoflowerâs right paws burned with the weight of a hundred eyes upon them. Old cats, young cats, cats she didnât even know. All judging her. Could she do it? Could they do it?
I certainly hope soâŠ
At the edge of her vision, Nettlestar and Jaystar waited. Transfixed, Twoflower barely took a second to dip her head in farewell before running, as fast as a cat such as she could, to meet their call.
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