2.12.10 GATHERING!

[sophie]

Swanflower

Swanflower's pelt grew hot with embarrassment. Great. I nearly tripped over a FogClan apprentice. She thought, feeling a bit annoyed with herself. Now she was like some apprentice smasher. But from his expression, she made up her mind that he really didn't mind. She was glad she didn't give her a hard time yet. The she-cats icy blue eyes wandered over to Duskpaw, an apprentice from her own clan. Yeah...That was smooth, Swanflower. she scolded herself, flashing the apprentice a quick smile.

"Nice to meet you, Blackpaw..." she trailed off, her gaze flickering over to Harepaw. Hmmm...he seems to be a popular choice for the she-cats. Swanflower thought, a small smirk playing at the edges of her mouth. "Trust me. I'm not one to judge." she finished, her whiskers twitching a bit. The warrior figured she might want to move onto a warrior...and not spen time with apprentices who seemed as if they were intrested in this little black tom.

"I should leave you to you, um, company." Swanflower mewed a bit awkwardly, rising to her paws and padding away with a flick of her tail.

[glowlynose]

Crowpaw couldn't tear his gaze away from Willowpaw. Why was he so frightened? Did he think, perhaps, that somebody was going to hurt him here? Oh, heavens no! It wasn't allowed! Besides which, that would be just plain mean, like picking a flower for a little kit and then snatching it away and shredding it. Was he this scared all the time? How did he manage his training if he was so skittish? The longer the night-pelted tom looked at Willowpaw, the more he began to think that perhaps he was hurting too. It would have to be a pretty deep hurt to make the apprentice like that, all cowed and miserable looking. Most apprentices Crowpaw knew were spunky and energetic, and for Love's sake didn't stutter all the time! Not that Crowpaw was judging - oh no, that would be a horrible thing to do! The very thought shocked the medicine cat apprentice.

"It's okay, Willowpaw. You don't have to be scared. Nobody's going to hurt you here." Crowpaw's eyes were filled with a wonderful amalgamation of love and compassion, an expression that they only held when he knew without a doubt that he needed to help whoever it was that he was talking to.

Most cast wouldn't understand his feelings, since he felt the same basic urge to love every single cat in the forest, one no more than the next. Every clan was his clan, and every family was a part of his. They were all one and the same, the clans of the forest, but they were all too blinded by borders to see that. Looking around, Crowpaw could see that the borders were still present, even in this place of communion and peace. Cats greeted each other with cold comity, sometimes revulsion. If two cats from different can talked to one another, it was because they had nobody else to talk to, which made conversation basic and awkward. If this supposed "StarClan" had known that the gatherings would be like this, they probably wouldn't have ordained them.

"Why would I hold it against you, Finchpaw? Just because you look alike doesn't mean that you are alike. Besides, your dad's alright." Crowpaw was just plain confused now. Finchpaw saw something wrong with his father, but what was it? Rowanheart was big, strong, respectful, and obviously cared about his son. Heck, he'd come over to meet Finchpaw's "new friend"! Sure, the ginger warrior might carry himself proudly, but it's not like pride's a deadly sin... right? Finchpaw's dad wasn't going to die because he was too proud, was he? That would be horrible! Nobody deserved to die, and certainly not because they were proud of who they were.

[/center]

[Slug]

WILLOWPAW of FOGCLAN

"Oh, hi! My name's Crowpaw. What's yours?"

Willowpaw scuffed the ground with a paw, uncertain how to introduce himself again. Apparently he must have spoken too quietly for Crowpaw to hear his greeting, much to his embarrassment. So he stayed mute, never noticing the grin sent his way as he continued to stare shyly at the ground.

"Ah, you scared me there, Willowpaw!"

The silver apprentice practically fell over from the cheerful voice, letting out a startled "a-ahk!", heart pounding against his ribcage. "S-sorry!" Willowpaw blurted, horrified and green eyes wide. "I d-didn't mean to--"

"Glad you could join us. Crowpaw, this is Willowpaw, as you've heard. Fellow Fogclanner and a nice guy."

The petite tom squirmed at the compliment, though he allowed a shaky smile to curl his maw. "Th-thank y-you..." He murmured, shuffling restlessly.

"It's okay, Willowpaw. You don't have to be scared. Nobody's going to hurt you here."

His head snapped up, surprise on his face, but once he saw that sweet, sincere look of Crowpaw's, the FogClanner beamed, his shaky smiling changing into a brilliant, absolutely happy grin, the expression giving the little tom a rather pleasant aura, especially with the moon giving his silver fur a slight glow.

"It's n-nice to me-meet you, Cr-Crowpaw!" Willowpaw stuttered, though this time he sounded like he could take on the all the Clans-- no, the world!

Then he recalled hearing something-- something about Finchpaw's father. Willowpaw felt a stab of envy in his heart, then an ache. He missed his father, Snow-whisker, and he couldn't help but feel just a little jealous of Finchpaw. He had a father-- someone to look after him. He should be grateful, but he always seemed to toss it back at Rowanheart's face, much to Willowpaw's annoyance.

"...You should be grateful, Finchpaw." The FogClan apprentice finally spoke after a moment of silence. "Y..y-... yo-you d-don't r-really... s-seem to appreciate t-the f-fact th-that you s-still have a f-father." Willowpaw squirmed again, suddenly self-conscious as he voiced his thoughts.

SANDPAW of MEADOWCLAN

"Pointless."

Sandpaw couldn't agree more. "Pointless it may be, but we are powerless to stop them from happening." He responded, voice flat and bored. "Unless we all started bickering about it to our leaders, nothing is going to change." He added, ears twitching.

"Forgive me for my rambles, but why do you not try to enjoy what you can from the gatherings? Or is sleeping your way of enjoying it?" No sarcasm. No malice. Nothing. Just an emotionless, almost lifeless tone.

Oh, yeah. He was being serious.

BLUEFUR of PINECLAN

This big, muscular, and very blue cat was striding through the gathered cats with ease, either brushing past the felines or nearly running over them. The warrior found it greatly amusing to see some of the cats scramble out of his way, though he was more angry than anything else.

Really, was it that hard to find someone to talk to? He wasn't that scary, was he?

Bluefur allowed himself to scoff a right and returned to searching for a fellow PineClanner to talk to. He had no business with the other Clanners, nor did he want any. Howevever, he found himself sneaking up behind a group of toms. Three of them from the looks of it, though two of smelled of herbs, while the tiny silver one-- no doubt still an apprentice-- was reeking of fear, yet was smiling like he had just gloriously pissed in a StreamClanner's stream.

Now that would be something, though for some reason he doubted that such a petite, fear-scented tom would do such a thing-- it was a gut feeling, really, but he trusted it more than another cat's advice.

"What, oh what do we have here?" He asked, voice rumbling from behind Crowpaw, his Clan's medicine cat apprentice. He settled down next to the black tom, eying his Clanmate's companions. A fear-scented apprentice, and another medicine cat apprentice.

"You have quite the catch." He raised his furry brows at the two FogClanners, yellow eyes amused with a hint of disapproval. He never liked FogClanners, and he couldn't help but feel a prickle of protectiveness in him. FogClanners and PineClanners never usually did mix well together, but mercy forbid it if he just up and left the little one with not just one, but two FogClanners.

So he was going to stay right where he was, and that was by Crowpaw's side.

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Duskpaw

"Only mouse-brains judge! We're not mouse-brains. I'm Duskpaw, by the way. StreamClan, though y'guys probably knew that." She giggled.

GASP. Had the black and orange apprentice actually said a reasonable and not dumb-sounding statement? Miracles really did happen. It'd been slightly awkward when Swanflower had come by, but that was okay...and now there were three of them, and the PineClanner had a funny-sounding but nice voice. Things were actually going well for once.

She'd smiled at Blackpaw's response. It seemed he didn't judge her for her strangeness. She liked that. The apprentice too often got sniggers and whispers from her denmates whenever she tried to join in on a conversation, she reflected sadly. Maybe it was better to talk to cats from other Clans, 'cause they had to be polite anyway...

She was invaded by a sudden dark thought. What if he'd actually been mocking her? What if everyone hated her but they pitied her too much to show it? That would be horrible.

No.

For the sake of whatever sanity she had left, she had to believe that wasn't true.

[prowler.]

LYNXPELT
✖O✖O✖O✖

✖ Lynxpelt's presence was not one that treaded lightly in Gatherings such as the one presented tonight, but it loomed like a thundercloud, powerful and intimidating, yet disturbingly distant and foreboding. He did not pause to see that the newest Medicine Cat Apprentice of his clan settled well - Crowpaw, as far as he was concerned, was an apprentice like any other and would learn to socialise with other clans in his stride. Besides, he'd already met and got along well with Finchpaw, quite surprisingly also, the two both originating from clans which were long known for holding a grudge against one another's beliefs. But this did not disturb Lynxpelt, if anything, it would give both clans a bit of a slap on the paw to how they should be acting toward one another, particularly in such a harsh season, regardless of petty differences.

✖ As he slinked through the Gathered felines, the fur on his back trembled and bristled lightly, stimulating the warmth to rise from his dark grey fur. He lifted his lightly-dusted-brown muzzle and fixed his powerful golden-amber eyes on the felines around him. Thus far, nothing particularly intrigued him and once again he surmised that though his presence was one required at such a stately affair, he would be making no idle ditherings on the said occasion. Part of it was his reputation, he supposed - the outlandish rogue lynx-lookalike that came from far away, possessing intense knowledge of herbs both local and foreign and an uncanny experience of the world, a cat that kept to himself but was respected even by the most reckless warrior. Cats here knew that Lynxpelt was not only a Medicine Cat, but a warrior by nature, who would turn to claw when necessary - even his physique, gargantuan and muscular, dictated it.

✖ The other part? Well, Lynxpelt didn't open himself up to the opportunity. He spoke when necessary and no more, gave nothing away and never began a conversation unless it was required. He was a thinker and doer, not a talker who could give away clan-kept secrets on a whim. He would, however, be all-ears this Gathering. He felt the tingle of unease on the air and it sparked an animalistic excitement in his aging heart. Oh this should prove an interesting night, very interesting...

Hailstorm
^{⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞}

☼ As Hailstorm padded into the Gathering his footfalls landed heavily in the dust. His eyes were sore and slightly red from feeling so tireless and the usually good-natured warrior was somewhat disgruntled. Lately he'd got no sleep, dreams that felt smothered and simply went on and on into the darkness with no answers, nothing, he'd find himself running through the snow across a field, only to fall, down, down, down he'd go, to awake in a cold sweat, shivering. Some of the other warriors he was sure had seen it, but they said nothing, Hailstorm didn't think they'd make a deal out of it if he could endure, but it made him nervous all the same. Obviously, his dreams meant nothing, but they set his days off on an uncertain note, made his tail drag behind him and his blue-grey eyes loose their usual sparkle of happiness.

☼ As he looked around, he found himself hard-pressed to try and smile outwardly. He was tired, so tired, his nights fetched at best two or three hours sleep and his days were filled with hunting, bringing back moss or whatever the clan desired or patrolling. Not to mention training - poor Sootpaw, Hailstorm's lessons of late had involved little enthusiasm, consisting of pointing out the dangers of different forms of snow and how to track certain animals in these conditions. His catches on hunting sessions were uncharacteristically low, he still brought back four or five pieces of prey a day, but they were scrawny and Hailstorm took little for himself, not truly seeing how he would deserve more.

☼ Because of all this, his size had become lacking, loosing muscle rather than fat and his one-shining long grey fur was now dull even in the silver moonlight. And he was restless, so restless, despite his exhaustion something kept him up at night, pacing, thinking of what he could possibly be thinking about, really, it was nothing. But being haunted by nothing was worse than being haunted by anything else. Swallowing his uneasy feelings, Hailstorm stared about the Gathering one last time, before plucking up his trailing personality and padding over to the closest group of felines.

☼ It so chanced that he'd walked over to, who was that..? Ah! Beaverstripe, his clanmate, talking to Sandpaw, the Medicine Cat Apprentice of MeadowClan. Fair enough, though both seemed to be in dour spirits as his himself were, but Hailstorm didn't mind, at least he didn't have to try and give a shining front to cats that obviously didn't bother themselves. As he neared, he picked up on the end of Sandpaw's words, the young tom was talking about the pointlessness of Gatherings it seemed. When he arrived beside the two, he sat back to his haunches in a reclined defeat, no grace in his movements. 'There seems little to enjoy in such a harsh season, let alone at a Gathering where cats have little more to do than dither until they find something to argue about.' His voice was sufficiently unenthused, he didn't bother with introductions, he'd not spoken to Beaverstripe, but he knew him by name by default due to clan and as for Sandpaw, well, all the Medicine Cats and their apprentices were known these days.

_minnowpaw
♪♫♪♫_♪♪♫

♪ When Minnowpaw padded into the Gathering her heart practically burst with delight. Oh! For the last three successive Gatherings she'd been present, but even now their charm had not become dull to her and still she delighted attending and mingling with any present felines. Wide grey eyes the tiny she-cat gazed around in fascination until she picked out a group of cats - two or three around her age, she figured, but all, of course, much larger. And a warrior, eep. Ah well, she'd hopefully make some new friends. She recognized Willowpaw out of the three, he'd been one of the cats there when she'd been about to introduce herself until that meaner cat had given her a filthy look, perhaps now they'd have a nice discussion.

♪ She padded over energetically to the quad of felines, giving a dainty smile as she appeared amongst them. In comparison, still, she looked like a kit, it was difficult to imagine that the she-cat was ten moons old and not long to become a warrior. Oh that was silly kerfuffle now, wasn't it? Minnowpaw hardly felt ready to become a warrior, regardless if Stormflower, the Deputy of the Clan, was her mentor. Oh sure, Stormflower tried and tried to teach Minnowpaw to become an ideal warrior, but Minnowpaw was far more interested with running after little critters and playing with them rather than hunting. Far more interested with exploring than scouting. Really, she was still a kit at heart through and through and she never wanted to not be.

♪ As she looked at the others she tried to make out there scents. Two of them were FogClanners and Two of them were - wait. PineClanners? But didn't they and FogClanners hate each other? Had she just walked in on an argument waiting to happen? Maybe. Maybe. But she'd change that! Maybe they could all have a nice conversation and make some new friends, talk more about their similarities. The StreamClan femme's dainty smile turned into a full-on beam at the other four felines as she sat her fluffy calico physique down on the slightly-chilly floor and wrapped her tail around herself before speaking. 'Hiya! I'm Minnowpaw, of StreamClan, you guys having a nice gathering so far?' If she could know as much, she'd feel like a cliché air stewardess, asking how passengers were doing.

♪ Still, pleasant feelings radiated from the small she-cat, kitten-soft fur still enjoyable to look at and large, wide grey eyes beaming like her expression as her tiny-body-big-heart voice spoke out amongst them. To many, she was easy to ignore, but she hoped today that she wouldn't be. Since her first gathering, as a shy, young apprentice, her confidence had grown in leaps and bounds and since then she'd succeeded in making several friends both internally and externally. Sure, she didn't like to dwell on her past, but nobody really did, right?

[Whiskers]

For some reason, Finchpaw was strangely popular tonight-- or maybe it was Crowpaw. Or Willowpaw. After all, he had just been approached by two more cats before he could even utter his reply to both Crowpaw or Willowpaw (though he was a little grateful for that). First this big, strong, intimidating warrior from Pineclan, and then a dainty little female from Streamclan. Finchpaw couldn't say he was complaining; he loved meeting new cats. But it was all a little bit overwhelming, not to mention a bit... worrisome. If his dad noticed, he'd come over and pull him away. One pineclan cat was one thing-- but two? No, his dad wouldn't let that fly.

"Uh, you're right Willowpaw," Finchpaw said quickly, not feeling like arguing or expressing why he was not in the best favor with his father. "I shouldn't take him for granted-- he does love me after all."

Next he dipped his head toward the rather large tom in front of him and he gave him a smile. "And hello to you...I'm Finchpaw, Crowpaw's friend. We met at the medicine cat meeting, during the half-moon."

And finally, Minnowpaw. He repeated the action toward the pretty she-cat. "It's... hectic, to say the least. But I love gatherings. They're always interesting."
--

Another gathering. Lovely, lovely.

Shrikewhisker had just hopped from group to group so far, exchanging hellos and how are yous as he went along his way. Nothing was really going on with a lot of cats though. They had given him a very curt reply and then had turned away, like they had better things to do than talk, which was absolutely ridiculous. This was a gathering after all. And Gatherings were meant for talking. That's all they were there for! It was one long night of conversations!

Oh well, he'd find someone soon. Shrikewhisker decided to just talk to the next cat he ran into. With that thought, he shut his eyes and walked straight ahead.

Yes, he was going to literally run into someone. Best way to meet someone, and it would definitely start a conversation.

Bump.

Shrikewhisker's eyes flew open and there he was, staring down at a pretty streamclan she-cat. Well lookee there! Luck was on his side tonight. He recognized her from...from somewhere. He must have seen her at another gathering. Wasn't her name Swanflower? Maybe? Yeah, he'd go with that. He smiled and laughed nervously.

"Oh sorry, miss, didn't see you there!"

[/size]

[neworleans]

His head was pounding. Throbbing. It felt like there really were bees in his brain, as the saying went. Everything Mistpelt was doing... it was just so complicated! He wondered if he was displeasing StarClan somehow, going against the warrior code, but that couldn't be. In an effort to make sense of it all-- or at least some of it-- the brown tom went over the points he'd thought of before, keeping track of each one with a slightly emphasized step.

One: Mistpelt's ideas are all about doing right in StarClan's eyes. Two: she says what she's doing is sanctioned by StarClan. Three: everything's changing, and I feel so confused. I hate feeling confused. Four: I know that Silverflower's just as confused as I am, so I'm not the only cat who feels like he's walking around in a haze way more often than he'd like.

Looking up, the apprentice sighed. Maybe Shadepaw and Palepaw could help me figure this out. Wait, no-- they're in different Clans. "Mousedung!" he hissed, swiping at the grassy earth with unsheathed claws. Did any cat see? he wondered. Well, I'll come up with an explanation if I'm asked about it. Yeah, I can do that. Cedarpaw shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind, at least somewhat. At any rate, it'll be great to see them again. And who knows, he thought, his tail going straight up and a smile spreading across his features, maybe I'll see Silverflower. With this new positive attitude, the FogClanner began to trot about the clearing, looking for the cats he wanted to see.

ooc: word count: 267

[sophie]

Swanflower

Swanflower continued to walk for about a minuet more before stopping in her tacks. Was there really going to be someone to talk to? Would they want to talk to her? What was wrong with her? Of course they would. It was a Gathering for StarClan's sake! The pretty white-and-gray she-cat decided to just stay right where she was. She didn't bother to sit; she didn't know if she was going to see someone she wanted to or not.

Bump

Something bumped into the back of Swanflower, making her stumble forward a bit. She spun around, her eyes wide with surprise. By the scent, it was a Pineclanner. Shrikewhisker? she thought, her ears twitching a bit. Yeah, that's it. she concluded, her eyes shrinking back to their normal size. Swanflower looked over the tom for a moment; gray-and-white, amber eyes with green around the pupil, bright pink nose. Yes, he was familiar, and he was Shrikewhisker.

Swanflower was lost for words for a moment. "Oh, it's fine." she mewed, her pelt growing a bit hot with embarrassment. "It's not the first time tonight I had a little incident like this." the white-and-gray she-cat almost purred, her light blue eyes darting to her paws for a moment before going back to paying attention to Shrikewhisker.

Silverflower

Silverflower padded through the bodies of all of the clan cats, her small, frail body looking even small amongst the larger cats. Her short fur was groomed nicely; looking sleek and shiny. The silver tabby looked around, looking for someone to talk to. The she-cat's small paws, skimmed lightly over the the ground.

Then, a familiar brown pelt appeared ahead. Cedarpaw, she thought, deciding that it would be nice to chat with the younger tom. A bit slowly, Silverflower walked over to the apprentice. she stopped in front of him. "Hello, Cedarpaw."

ooc.
I hope I didn't do anything wrong wit her. /nervous.
Does she know Cedarpaw likes her?
sory for the epic fail. ;___;

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Palepaw

Another gathering, another place full of opportunities, another chance to meet new cats! And this was all made even better by the fact that is warm, thank StarClan.

Palepaw was grateful she hadn't run into Sootpaw again - not that he was particularly mean - well, he was, but that was besides the point. It was just so good to not have to endure that again, to just mingle freely, strolling through the crowd. A word here, a hello, how're you doing here, and a polite good-bye. She didn't have to pay attention for too long, and she met more cats this way anyway. And if they weren't friendly, she didn't have to stay. It was perfect.

Unless, of course, she met a best friend of hers. Then she'd stay and talk to them. Like Cedarpaw, for instance. Hey, that looked like him over next to that silver tabby..it was him! The she-cat's yellow eyes widened and she tried to get to him without pushing too many cats. Squeezing and muttering apologies as she went, she reached the brown tabby's side.

"Hey there, buddy!" She gasped. "This another friend of yours, Cedarpaw? Hi, I'm Palepaw of MeadowClan." The spotted MeadowClanner mewed, trying to be somewhat formal as the blue-eyed she-cat looked like a warrior.

[|| allie]

A thin gray shape stood above the Gathering place, mingling in the center of the FogClan cats chosen to be here tonight. The tom blinked in surprise, taken aback at the sight before him. Down in the clearing it was... There was hardly any snow. The cat blinked again. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe that there could be a place where there wasn't snow. Inwardly thanking StarClan for such a blessing, the cat, Graypaw, plummeted down the steep hill, lagging behind as the bigger, stronger warriors easily overtook him. He came a sudden halt as his paws touched flat ground and gazed around, taking in everything. Some cats stared at him in alarm as he entered, but that was all too common for Graypaw. He was used to cats staring at his appearance. Briefly, he wondered why in StarClan Owlstar would choose him - a scruffy, unhealthy cat - to go to a Gathering and represent FogClan. But, of course, Owlstar's word was law, and if she said Graypaw should accompany her to the Gathering, then Graypaw would be at this Gathering.

He shivered, although by the blank expression on his features, it was clear he was not horribly affected by the harsh wind. Stretching out his legs, he told himself, Well, if I'm here, I should probably... do something, and so he lifted one paw to take a step forward... and instantly set it back down. Long white whiskers twitched, revealing his uneasiness at the sight of the cats here. So many cats down there... It hurt his head. He shook it to clear his thoughts and plunged into the crowd of felines. Graypaw was miraculously able to maneuver his way through them, even managing to stay out from under the paws of older warriors who didn't seem to care or notice that the tiny apprentice was there.

Now, cats were breaking up into groups and the crowd was thinning out. A twinge of loneliness pricked at Graypaw's paws, and he gulped, suddenly feeling panicked. He didn't want to be the center of attention, or look like a fool for wandering through the clearing, lost, and not having a partner. His thorn-sharp claws slipped out of their sheaths, digging into the earth. Why did this have to be so stressful?

He tried to focus on finding a cat to talk to. Scanning the clearing, the tom's dull yellow eyes landed on a small tortoiseshell apprentice. StreamClan, by her smell. But no, before he could even turn to head in her direction, he noticed she was already on her way to speak to a different tom apprentice. Graypaw stepped back, barely avoiding smashing a senior warrior's tail. He bit his tongue to keep from hissing and hastily sped away until he was clear out of sight of the warrior. Disappointed, he sank onto the ground, ears flattening. This is pointless. All I'm doing is getting in other cats' way. Why am I even here if I'm just screwing things up for everyone else? And so Graypaw gave up. He didn't even care if he looked a sad mess. But there was still a small speck of hope that told him that maybe, just maybe, some generous cat would notice him in his lonesome and come over to talk to him.

Maybe.

And until then, he would sit her under these oak trees and wait for that very thing to happen.

-graypaw.