[ the best part of believe is the LIE ]

[Crowzerplorodon]

The forest watched as slow slipped from the sky, weaving in between branches to settle on the cold ground. Soft flakes piled up gently against the layers of snow from the previous storms. And while this particular gust of flurries wouldn't do much to raise the level of frozen water, it would cover the rare spots that had melted over the past few days. Such as the areas in FogClan camp, where cats had spent most their time. The body heat they produced thankfully melted some of the snow, so that they could at least walk. Still, the deepest areas went passed the fur on Blackpaw's belly, sending achingly cold chills through his pelt and bones.

“It's cold, Silverflower,” the apprentice complained, green eyes flicking over to watch the silver warrior nap (or try to nap) next to him. Recently, she had been his only companion, as Willowpaw was always busy and Ashfang never trained him anymore. Plus, the apprentice was really sure he had pissed Sootpaw, Falconpaw, and Cinderpaw off. Man, when did his luck end?

“Yes, Blackpaw,” the young warrior replied with a smile. Blackpaw huffed in response, shoulders slumping. Was that all she could really say? Here they were, sitting together right outside the warriors den, talking about the cold, and all she could say was yes, Blackpaw? Well that was downright insane. Almost as insane as they were, sitting in the cold, soaking their fur and chilling their bones. But, despite his age, Blackpaw had yet to be made a warrior, and wasn't technically allowed in there yet. Silverflower was kind enough to stay out here with him, as the apprentice den wasn't the most friendly place right now.

Blackpaw twitched where he sat. Now more than ever, with layers and layers of snow on the ground, the apprentice wanted to hunt. His paws kneaded the ground, accustomed to the cold, but itching to be out there, in the territory, stalking whatever oblivious prey was still out in this weather. That was probably the worst part of the snow. All the prey was gone. And just a few days ago, the large apprentice was begging for the white flakes to grace the frigid ground. He should have been careful about what he wished for.

“We need to hunt more, there's like, no kill in the pile,” Blackpaw said bluntly, turning his gaze back to Silverflower. He had half a mind to demand she come out with him and hunt right now, but didn't say anything. The warrior's small frame would be no use to him in this weather. He needed a strong cat, like Hailstorm or Rowanheart. Or a white cat, like Frostpaw or Whitetail. Or Owlstar, as she was both strong and white (well, she had lovely black mixed in her coat, but it fit her so perfectly...). The apprentice shook his head

To his left, Silverflower nodded. “If the snow wasn't so bad, Blackpaw, I would take you out.” Well that was reassuring. The apprentice nodded, accepting her words reluctantly. Damn snow. It plagued these lands. And Snowpaw must've felt really bad about being named after such a blasted material.

He kept quiet after that, watching the thin flakes fall from the sky with a negative interest. Each time one landed close to him, Blackpaw would smack it with a paw, or blow hot air on it, watching it turn to water for a split second, just to freeze again. It was that cold out here? Maybe they should be going into dens. Blackpaw would brave the apprentice den if it meant not having Silverflower freeze out here, in the cold. Her silver coat didn't look too thick, and the snow must be bothering her much worse than it was bothering him. “I think Mistpelt is doing a crap job with the patrols, to be honest.” No, if he were being honest, he would have said he thought Mistpelt was just doing a crappy job in general. Owlstar would most definitely have made a better deputy, if it wasn't for the fact that she was actually leader. “I'ma talk to Owlstar about it.”

“Don't bother them, Blackpaw,” Silverflower warned, opening her blue eyes to watch the apprentice. “They're doing their best, and Mistpelt can't control the weather. That's StarClan's job. She's coping as best she can.”

“StarClan shouldn't send us blasted snow!” The apprentice hissed in response, standing up from where he stood. Amusingly enough, there was a patch of grass where the snow had melted, thanks to the heat his body produced. Quickly he shook off the few flecks that scattered his black fur, wanting to look presentable in front of his leader. “What the hell were they thinking?”

Silverflower, in response, blinked. “There's a reason for everything, silly,” the warrior giggled, resting her head back on her paws. “But if you see fit to question it... Go right ahead, I wish you well.” Blackpaw rolled his eyes before nodding politely, seeing both the logic and madness in what the young warrior said. Ah well, she was a warrior. Whatever she was saying she probably understood far better than he.

As he moved through the snow, the apprentice wondered what exactly he would say to Owlstar. He couldn't just say Hey, I think Mistpelt is crap and patrols need to be organized by you 'cause you're smarter, could he? Well, technically, he could. But it would be horribly rude and disrespectful to not only an older cat, but the deputy. Owlstar probably would enjoy him saying it either, a fact that made Blackpaw flatten his ears. There had to be some level of trust between the she-cats, after all, they were leader and deputy.

“Owlstar?” The apprentice called, surprised to find himself at the leader's den so quickly. With all the snow on the ground, he had expected the trip to be harder. “I think we need more hunting patrols. The snow's like, wiped out our prey supplies.”

ooc;
Alright, this is it. The TAKE OVER THREAD ~
We want this thread to go quickly, as Owlstar should be kicked out before February Ninth - no promises though. Anyone can participate, but the following cats need to have posted at least once in the thread before it ends. And at a certain time, we'll kick out the cats who aren't on this list, as it'll make the chasing out scene go a lot faster.

- Mistpelt (Spec)
- Volepelt (Rolo)
- Rowanheart (Whiskers)
- Shadeclaw (Wild)
- Birchtail (Wolf)
- Firepaw (Whiskers)
- Tawnywhisker (Glowy
- Falconpaw (Cloudie)
- Whitetail (Cazzy)
- Dapplepaw (Canon)
- Reedfoot (Pyro)
- Owlstar (Kelly)
- Blackpaw (Crow)
- Warblerstep (Thistle)
- Willowpaw (Slug)
- Shrewpaw (Topaz)
- Hailstorm (Prowlie)
- Frostpaw (Rolo)
- Nightstream (Nightfall)

The bold names are the ones who will stay after we cut down the people who are allowed to post, as they are Mistpelt and her council or Owlstar and her followers.

Rolo edit: Please do not be offended if I ask you to alter or change little things in your posts. Due to the nature of this thread, it needs to be monitored alot more than the normal rp.

Please remember that ANYONE can rp in here, not just the specified cats. There is a chance for you to grab up the last few spots of Owlstar followers if your cat displays a longing to be one.

Guidelines

Please read all of these!

General

- The staff will be reading every post. They will be making sure it is realistic and doesn't reveal things too soon. If it is not realistic or reveals too much, we will make you change it. Admins will modify posts which are off with a Disregard ~ Admin along the top. This is a sign to all other rpers that you should ignore this post for the time being. This isn't to be nasty, it's just to stop posts setting of chains of events. This has already happened once and it's meant multiple people have needed to modify their posts.

- Please read every bit of dialogue 3 times before you reply to it. Note down what each one says (mentally or physically) and ensure you've understood what exactly each cat has said. Try and reply only to what you know, not what you're infering (reading from between the lines).

- This thread is incredibly unusual, have no doubts about that. It requires extra planning before you post. Take these things into account:

• Mistpelt is a deputy, so her dream is unusual.
  
• Having a new leader would be a REALLY scary and unnerving event. The clan is barely settled, such a change could really hurt it. Mistpelt followers of the less extreme kind should take this into account. Even if they love Mistpelt, are they really certain they want a new leader?
  
• Apart from the dream, what has Mistpelt got going for her? Mistpelt followers should really consider this.
  
• Going against the leader is completely against the warrior code.
  
• Owlstar's words are law, so you're technically breaking the law also if you go against her.
  

Mistpelt Followers

Phases of takeover
- Prey shortage
- Mistpelt arrives on the scene, claiming Owlstar is doing a bad job.
- Mistpelt reveals the dream
- The dream splits cats down the middle.
- Cats discuss the possibility the dream is from Starclan.
- Cats are now discussing the dream and possibility it's from Starclan and Mistpelt is suggesting Owlstar is a bad leader. Continue this.

Currently:
- There are no sides.
- Mistpelt followers are united only through opinion. They are not acting as a body of cats.
- No one should be proclaiming there are sides, or that they are on 'Mistpelt's side' (unless you're agreeing to her opinions in the situation, not the beliefs she holds.)



- Remember Mistpelt and her followers are running a COVERT (or undercover) operation. Unless cats have guessed it, they are not classifying themselves as 'her followers' or creating a 'Mistpelt side', they are currently just 'cats who have similar ideas about leadership' who are aiding Mistpelt as subtly as they can.

- Mistpelt followers should currently be aiding Mistpelt in putting reasons forward as for why Owlstar is a bad leader. Why? Because her followers TRULY believe so. They should be using more than just 'Owlstar might possibly be unpure' as a reason as for why Owlstar is bad. It doesn't matter if they're fabricating or over-reacting to something small ('she just gave the most idiotic advice!' 'She is lazy as she hasn't made any new warriors recently!"), they'll be picking up on anything negative.

- Mistpelt's followers truly believe Mistpelt is chosen and that the dream is real. They'll be offended that Owlstar is suggesting the dream is false, and they should act accordingly without over-reacting. Mistpelt followers are supposed to be attacking without giving away that they've organised this.

- Feel free to act in character. As in, if your cat is violent, let them be violent. However, remember that Mistpelt has asked them to be secretive and that you cannot give away the plan!

- PLEASE tone down the aggression. Alot. You're supposed to be getting other cats on your side, not scaring them all away and making them think you're insane or out to get Owlstar. Be reasonable and coaxing, help others see how bad Owlstar is by opening their eyes, not by slapping them round the head XD

- An Mistpelt follower may believe Owlstar is a bad leader, but may not neccessarily believe Mistpelt is a good leader.

[Kelly]

Owlstar stared straight ahead, pale green eyes digging holes into the wall of her underground den. Metaphorically, of course. Snow would pour it at crazy rates if holes were actually created. The leader sighed. Leaf-Bare had started off completely devoid of any snow or rain, and now they were getting so much? The smaller apprentices could hardly walked through the snow, let alone actually do anything. And she was sure even some of the warriors were having difficulty with it. The black and white she-cat hissed, biting into her lower lip. This weather was causing so many cats to gain a colder heart. She was sure that it was causing cats to be even more reluctant to looking weak. They wanted to show they were better or something for braving the cold weather. What idiots. Everyone needed help in times like these, even PineClan would need some show of mercy. Though it was StreamClan that Owlstar was worried about. She liked Cloudstar, and hated knowing that they were suffering the worst, as the river had gone long before the woodland prey left for hibernation.

But back to thinking. She needed to find a way to save FogClan before she fretted over another clan. Maybe, if she fumed enough, the snow would melt from brainwaves. The leader frowned, then chuckled at her own foolishness. Perhaps the snow was getting to her more than she would liked to have believe. A prolonged sigh escaped her lips, followed by groan that sounded suspiciously like her deputy's name. Owlstar almost called for the ivory pelted warrior, before realizing that Mistpelt was either out of camp, or resting. The deputy would have been in here chatting about plans if she wasn't occupied. And, also, just calling for the devoted she-cat would seem rather lazy. Owlstar was strong, and she was larger than most she-cats. Traveling in the snow wouldn't be a problem for her, as her large paws could easily carry her over the snow drifts and into the warrior's den, where her deputy would most likely be.

Owlstar's ears flicked when she heard noise outside, recognizing the voice as Blackpaw. What did the apprentice want? The snow made everything muffled, and Owlstar had to strain to hear him, but she picked out the gist of things. And she agreed, FogClan did need to get out more or they would die of starvation. She hadn't checked the pile lately nor taken kill from it, but the leader was sure that it would be depressingly low. “Come in, Blackpaw,” she said without hesitation, not wanting the apprentice to have to wait in the cold and wanting to listen to what he thought in more detail. “You're right, we do need patrols to hunt. Our regular system won't be cutting it anymore, thanks to this blasted snow. Perhaps we should be sending the larger cats out to hunt whatever prey is left, while the smaller cats can repair the camp from the storms we've had recently. I hate to separate based on size, but it's reasonably. Mistpelt would agree, I think. Wait, don't come in.” Instead, she stood, pulling herself out of the warm den reluctantly.

“I will address the clan.” Without a second glance toward the young tom, Owlstar leaped on to the stone that overlooked camp, paws numb with the shock of the cold from the stone and the snow. “FogClan,” she began, raising her voice to call across the camp. To her pleasure, the snow managed to silence things, and drifted her voice further out. “If you can hear me from where you are, I ask you do not move. Do not bother yourselves with this blasted weather if you must not.” With that over with, the she-cat shifted, sitting on the cold rock. “As your leader, I respect, trust, and care for all of you. And I hope you understand that I do not wish to discriminate against those not given a larger size at birth. But, in times like these, the separation must be made. Cats who are larger and thicker furred must take more patrols out to hunt, and bring as much prey back as they can find. Thinner, smaller cats should stay close to or in camp, so that the snow does not harm them.” Her tail twitched softly. “Those who would like to accompany me now, please, step forward. That is all.” As the last trace of her words echoed through the camp, Owlstar moved from the rock, taking a seat by Blackpaw. “You will be one of them, yes?”

[Cloud of Diamonds]

No. Way. Had Owlstar just said what he thought she just said? This was the last straw, if so.
So unfair. A furious brown-striped lump in a sleeping spot let out a faint growl. How dare she, the corrupt black and-white she-cat? He had plans for today!

Hunting training with Russetfang! And it all might not happen because of this STUPID idea.
Dozily, the angry FogClanner rose to his paws and slowly padded out of his den, tail swinging, and muscles tensed.

Huh! Some cats were just weak. He was big for his age and strong for his size. Still, he was only seven moons old, a teeth-grinding thought. Why did it have to take so long to be a warrior? Why couldn’t he be older like Firepaw or Blackpaw?

Ignoring his leader’s words, he stomped right up to within three foxlengths of her. The sinful she-cat.

He wasn’t going to pretend he had any loyalty to her anymore. He was fed up with holding in the great secret he carried. He was going to rebel against one who swayed his whole Clan in the wrong direction. In the name of the warrior code, honor, and StarClan, he would strike the first blow against her leadership.

“Owlstar!” He yowled.
“I protest! I am a relatively small, but strong cat! Will I not be able to face the cold? I challenge you to answer me!”

He held his head proud, sure some cat would come and be his ally soon. Who could expect him to face the soon-not-to-be leader alone?

[Spec]

A medium sized silver and ivory she-cat hung her head from her den. The snow had arrived, and in great, frozen tears upon the lifeless ground. The depression of the sin that transpired here was more than unbearable, more than any normal cat of faith could withstand with such a heavy burden on their shoulders. Obviously the she-cat was in foul spirits, only tampered with the hope that soon her prophecy would come to be reality. Eight days, Starclan had said, eight moons in which the time came for her to finally rise into power. But They would not so graciously allow her the privilege of an easy shift in power, no, They had placed the obstacles before her and patiently awaited what actions Mistpelt- soon to be ‘Miststar’ would take. Despite the hardship with maneuvering in the snow, she had affirmed her belief that a new, more efficient system would be required to shift the inches from outside the dens, and to carve a path where everyone could transverse easily through them. Her paw had just risen to exit her den when a yowl was brought to her attention. Immediately, her ears instinctively flattened against the tip of her skull. The she-sinner called, addressed the clan with her treacherous voice that cawed a thousand languages of slothfulness and sacrilege. Mistpelt outwardly scoffed at the idea, sending only larger cats to brave the weather while the rest of the slimmer cats had to fend off the muscle of the snow? The idea was preposterous! A mixture of large and small would be required in hunting as well as shifting the snowdrifts, for what if a smaller cat collapsed, it wouldn’t be seen due to its small stature disappearing from visible sight. It was clearly too dangerous, and too mousebrained to be accomplished. The ivory white she-cat lifted her gaze towards the grey sky, blanketing out the sun. Today didn't fall on the eighth day, only the seventh...but every bone in her body tinged as if Starclan themselves ordained this moment to be thine...Her flesh ached, pushing herself towards salvation at this very moment. Starclan spoke, voice clear in her mind. It was time to act, and They had given her the pristine opportunity. Mistpelt would revolt to inspire change, efficiency, everything Owlstar stood against.

Mistpelt muscled her way into the crowd that had gathered despite Owlstar’s words, instinctively nearing to hear her more clearly. She paused briefly, to listen with a pricked interest at Falconpaw’s bold outburst. Her pulsed inflamed. From such a small apprentice, already his eyes were parted to retain the real truth, and denounce the sinful ways of his washed out leader. A tight smile laced her lips, brushing passed his pelt with a assuring tap upon his shoulders, before leaping up on large boulder, hanging over camp, stalking ever nearer to Owlstar. When she was about a pace away, she stopped, rose herself proudly, and addressed the crowd, including those still in their dens. “Foglclan!” Her voice was strong against the air, inspiring as the sound lifted from her opened maw. “Falconpaw has a point. Not only that, but sending only larger cats to brave the weather while the rest of the slimmer cats had to fend off the muscle of the snow is foolish. A mixture of large and small would be required in hunting as well as shifting the snowdrifts. What if a smaller cat collapses, it wouldn’t be seen due to its small stature disappearing from visible sight. Larger cats might cope the snow, but anyone is easily winded when hunting in such extreme snow accumulation. Both are equally fit for the job, and shouldn’t be separated as such." The humble she-cat gave a great pause, allowing other voices to voice their opinion on the subject. To voice their approval (or disapproval). the more voices against Owlstar, the better. When the moments dragged on, she began again, more enlightened, yet more absolute. Again her vocals traveled throughout the ranks of Fogclan. "For many moons now, a great evil has descended over us…threatening to uproot everything that a proud and superior Fogclan has upheld in the past. I understand that many of you are uncomfortable, perhaps even a bit fearful as the darkness hovers ever so close to your denside, haunting you with the misfortunes and sins of another among us. But don’t fear, take hope…cherish it and adore Starclan because They, Themselves, have gifted me with a vision!” Her eyes stood firm against the pairs of eyes who stared up to meet hers, ignoring whatever blasphemy Owlstar might say, preparing for the worst, but also the best, for Starclan will would cleanse this clan into what it was truly destined to be. “Divine proof! She continued without falter. “That cannot be selfishly kept from you any longer!” She would wait until all eyes were upon her, all who hungered for the truth to give her all attention before she entrusted her glorious Truth with them, her beloved clanmates...

[/blockquote]

[prowler.]

hailstorm.

[/center][/font]

As Owlstar's voice boomed across the clearing, Hailstorm, having only briefly returned from a dispairingly unfruitful hunt with two runty pieces of prey, turned toward the sound. He detected a note of urgency and moved his massive frame like a bulldozer through the snow - snow which he for one considered "light" for how it could've been. He listened to her announcement with a patient ear and nodded lightly at her words; it made sense, that the larger, more cold-sustaining warriors and a few of the largest apprentices, brave the cold for the sake of those that could not bear such weather. He took a single step forward in volunteer and was about to speak his appraisal when he heard an arrogant young voice speak out. Who was that? He slid his gaze sideward only to find Falconpaw's smaller physique squared up against his leader.

Hailstorm bristled lightly - of course, the apprentice was young, so maybe he knew no better. But still, even the most dumb or reckless cat knew that loyalty to one's leader was priority above all. That included if you agreed with them or not, you followed orders, as an apprentice, warrior, deputy or whatever you may be, it was your job. Your duty to your clan. Hailstorm decided not to speak directly to the apprentice, but shot him a reprimanding glare that said it all for him show some respect. Albeit, he was sure the apprentice was merely upset that he would not be able to attend due to his height, but it was surely just for his own safety, Owlstar would never be malignant to the wants, needs and desires of her clan unless her proposition was what was for the best and Hailstorm had no doubt in that it was. He was about to offer his assistance to her suggested cause once again when Mistpelt stepped forward and spoke out. In a flash, his jaws snapped shut once again, his own icy grey-blue eyes fixating themselves steadily on the devout deputy.

Now Hailstorm was not by nature a massively aggressive cat, he acted on logic and loyalty to all times, but something about the she-cat unruffled his fur. Mistpelt spoke of StarClan with such certainty it was almost frightening the lengths she would go for such belief and this made Hailstorm feel fear. He was not a coward either, but the thought of some kind of, well religious crusade, it just made his thick fur prickle with dislike and, well, fear. The lives that would be in danger... And in such a time, no such thing should threaten a clan, all wellmeaning cats every one of them. As such, Hailstorm disliked such ambitions, so barely beneath the skin of the relentless she-cat. As her voice ripped through the crisp air, first rejecting and slating Owlstar's proposition unjustly - she had not been asked to do so and any worthy deputy knew that, even if just for public face, a deputy should always support their leader's decisions to the clan. This just made the clan seem, well, scattered. Disorganized. In truth, this was partially true, but only to the extent of that the lands were raw and covered in snow! Not such that any cat should defy a leader's orders, in particular not the very deputy of the clan!

It was her next words that really gave Hailstorm the necessary kick, words about "great evils" that had been descending on the clan. What words were these! Fools words, rooted in lies. Hailstorm had seen no such evils! Sure, he'd seen struggle with prey due to the conditions, but that was normal of nature and if it was StarClan's wish that the seasons did as they did, then so be it, he was not going to try to "interpret" any hidden meanings beneath such. As she paused, as if posturing, waiting for rallying support, Hailstorm's long grey fur bristled and he took a closer step toward the deputy and leader. Hackles rising, he swished his tail fiercely, giving Mistpelt a cold, terrifying gaze. A growl rose on his throat as his dark voice half-snarled a suprisingly quiet, but audible, response. 'I would be careful where you go with this, Mistpelt, a deputy should always stand by their leader. No matter what.'

His referral of course was to the warrior code - under the small print of Loyalty. What was it pledged to? Well, when you became a warrior, to your clan, of course, to the sanctity of life, StarClan, your fellow warriors and hm, who else? Oh yes, your superiors. Owlstar included. The senior warrior squared his shoulders and gave a final warning glower to the ambitious deputy before breaking his gaze in a contradictingly non-confrontational manner. Relaxing his muscles partially, he reclined to his hind legs and swept his tail around his paws, fending off the cold as he waited for a further explanation.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Whiskers]

Firepaw

The yowl of Owlstar woke Firepaw with a sudden start and the jolt made his claws jump out of his paws eagerly, like they were searching for the danger that had elicted such a sound from a cat. A second later, when Firepaw's mind caught up to his body, he realized it was a call to a clan meeting. Oh joy. He didn't enjoy clan meetings all that much. Sometimes they dragged on, with the warriors arguing and arguing over something stupid, or something with an easy solution. In the end, it was wrapped up with Owlstar saying her final word was final and there would be no more arguments against it. So basically, they were pretty frikkin' predictable.

But whatever, he had to attend it because he was old enough to catch his own stinking prey. He lifted his tired body up, stretched it out, and then lugged himself out of the den. He had just waddled his way over to his father when he heard Owlstar say that they didn't have to move. The apprentice gave a massive groan. He could have stayed in the warmth of his den, but whatever. Owlstar had to go and inconvenience him.

Her words, though, erased his grumpy mood. Firepaw blinked slowly, still taking them in, still thinking them over. Did he ...like this decision? It didn't actually affect him all that much-- he was nearly a warrior, and he was like his dad: big and fluffy (and very lovable). He could go out all he pleased, though he didn't particularly want to, what with all this cold snow all over the place. But Firepaw knew that this didn't just affect him and he should think in a broader scale. He had friends that would be affected by this. He wouldn't be able to go out with a few other apprentices that he liked to hunt with and.... and hey! Some full grown warriors would be affected to, and that would affect their apprentices! If they couldn't go out, they couldn't train their apprentices and how was that fair?! It wasn't! Plus Owlstar shouldn't just assume that all the smaller cats couldn't brave the snow, that they weren't capable enough.

In the end, this would just make a lot of cats antsy and upset, and the prey count would go down since half the number of cats would go out. What a stupid, mousebrained idea. He growled and nodded vigorously as Falconpaw protested. That's right, stick up for the little cats, Falconpaw.

When Mistpelt spoke out next, Firepaw knew he was right. Mistpelt was ten times smarter than Owlstar, not to mention stronger and more skilled. She was the most capable deputy he knew and when she spoke out about the great evil, he got actual shivers down his spine. It was going to happen...wasn't it? She was going to tell her dream!

If that stupid Hailstorm ever shut up.

Firepaw let out a growl and he sprang forward, his hiss directed at Hailstorm. "That's a bunch of fox-dung!" He said crudely. "If the deputy just blindly agrees with a leader, we'll have a clan of brainless cats who can't think for themselves! Mistpelt is the clan deputy, she can speak up against it if she wants to-- obviously Owlstar didn't talk to her about this beforehand, so it's her right to give her opinion about it now! And I think she's right," Firepaw said, addressing the whole clan. "It's not fair that some of the smaller cats have to stay in. They're just as much a part of this clan-- some of them are even warriors and they're warriors for a reason! It's because they're strong and brave enough to face anything! So I think they can take on a little snow."

Firepaw felt a brush of fur against his own and he saw his father rise up next to him. Firepaw also noticed Finchpaw slip out of the medicine den and quietly pad over. His brother's eyes were worried. His attention shifted back to Rowanheart though as the older warrior began to speak.

"My son speaks the truth when he says Mistpelt should have her say,"Rowanheart said and his voice was calm and kind. He was addressing the clan as his friends, instead of merely fellow warriors. His eyes drifted from cat to cat before settling on Hailstorm.

"And you forget, Hailstorm," his tone was gentle, "You forget that we all answer to Starclan. Yes, we have a loyalty to our leader, but Starclan is a higher power and we owe our devotion to Starclan first and foremost. Mistpelt is speaking on behalf of Starclan. And we should listen."

Firepaw watched as his father's head turned slowly and his soft gaze landed on the deputy. Rowanheart dipped his head at Mistpelt as if to signal to continue.

[/size]

[glowlynose]

Tawnywhisker's ears perked up as her leader's voice echoed around the clearing. She swiveled her head around so as to gain a better view of the small black-and-white she-cat. With the snow-encrusted branches of the trees framing her slight frame, she looked even weaker than ever. Even Owlstar's voice seemed to carry the stresses that she had no doubt picked up when the clan had begun to whisper about Mistpelt. It was cracking, just as her will was. Tawnywhisker allowed herself a self-assured smirk before she padded over to the gathering area. Soon would be the hour that Mistpelt rose to power, and then FogClan would finally have the sort of leader that was powerful enough for them.

Dovepaw shivered. The cold that had come with the new snow was almost too much to bear. It had been easier to deal with her first snow. She had still been covered with the soft fluff of kithood, and the only blasts of cold she had felt had come when she was near an open door. Now, though, the piercing chill was constant, and it didn't help any that her pelt had become so short that it was practically plastered to her skin at all times. The numbness in her paws made it very difficult to walk, even more so than her recently healed wounds, but still she heeded her leader's call. She labored her way across the camp, slipping sometimes when a drift caught her by surprise, but always she maintained what little dignity that she felt she had left. Her head never dropped. The stubborn streak in her subconscious would not let her head fall from its refined position.

"Are you alright, Dovepaw? It seemed that you were having a bit of trouble getting over here. Are your wounds giving you trouble?" Tawnywhisker's concern for the young cat was genuine. Not even a half-moon had passed since Dovepaw's run-in with that fox - not even a half-moon since Tawnywhisker had seen the poor little thing lying on the forest floor in a pool of her own blood. The snow-pelted apprentice had only recently recovered enough to walk around camp. Her muscles would still be weak, too weak to be walking around in these conditions, realistically. Admiration for Dovepaw's strength shone clearly in Tawnywhisker's eyes as she surveyed the little she-cat's shivering figure. Brightnose had done a pretty good job of patching her up. Only a few scars cut through her clean white fur.

"Oh, yes, Tawnywhisker. I'm just fine, but thank you for asking."

[/color] Another shiver shook Dovepaw's huddled form as she mustered up the strength to reply. The cold was so consuming. It wouldn't take much to just give in to it and its call, just let her strength falter for a few heartbeats. But no. She couldn't do that. There was always Mousenose to consider. He wouldn't be able to manage without her.

Tawnywhisker forced herself to ignore the general goings on and instead focus on Dovepaw. She needed to be warmed up, but nobody else would likely be willing to provide it for her. That task fell upon the mottled warrior. Dovepaw leaned up against Tawnywhisker as the friendly she-cat scooted over the tail-length to be a source of warmth. Now she could close her eyes. Now she could finally give in to the weakness.

"Owlstar," Tawnywhisker cried from her sitting position, "What of the cats who cannot do anything? There are cats like Dovepaw who are to stubborn to sit by and do nothing, but you can't really expect them to repair the camp. The Elders, Dovepaw, they are mostly too weak. They must be cared for, but who will do that if everyone is hunting or trying to clear the snow away?" Her protest to Owlstar's direction was faint, so faint that she doubted that anybody but herself or Mistpelt could pick up on it. She maintained her attitude of general respect, as she always did. There was no animosity in her mew, only unquestionable concern and goodwill. Nobody was close enough to her to see the faint spark of rebellion that smoldered behind the yellow curtains of her eyes.
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[Slug]

“... Cats who are larger and thicker furred must take more patrols out to hunt, and bring as much prey back as they can find. Thinner, smaller cats should stay close to or in camp, so that the snow does not harm them.”

Willowpaw nodded slowly to himself at Owlstar's words, peering cautiously outside his den, his green eyes squinting against the snowflakes that lashed out at his face, though he payed no heed to them, for he was far too engrossed with his thoughts to really notice his surroundings, let alone the weather.

He would admit he was relieved that he didn't have to go outside of camp today, because Leaf-bare always brought bad memories. The snow, for one, gave him shudders every time he looked at it, but Willowpaw urged himself to think it was the cold that made him shudder, though deep down he knew it was something else-- something more personal... His father's frozen, snow-covered corpse flashed through his mind, making the silver-tom shudder again, his ears going smack! as they quickly pressed themselves to the top of his head.

Oh, how Willowpaw wished he could just… forget. Forget, forget, forget. That’s all he ever wanted to do. Forget…

It was far too late to do that, though.

A yowl pulled Willowpaw out of his thoughts, the tom blinking owlishly for a moment as he tried to remember where he was, though the sound of Falconpaw’s voice reassured him that he was still in camp. However, it was when Willowpaw replayed the apprentice’s words in his head, he became… afraid.

“I protest! I am a relatively small, but strong cat! Will I not be able to face the cold? I challenge you to answer me!”

He didn’t know what compelled him to run after the brown tabby, but Willowpaw did, scrambling through the snow to save his fellow apprentice from loosing his ears. ”F-Falconpa--” He began, though was cut off by another, more bold voice.

The voice of Mistpelt.

Her speech sent chills down his spine that the cold itself could not accomplish, his mind reeling at it all. Slowly, Willowpaw moved away from Falconpaw, eying the other apprentice warily, expecting the tom to start babbling StarClan nonsense that Mistpelt just had. ”What have you done, Falconpaw?” Willowpaw asked softly, watching with horrified eyes as the-- no, his, Willowpaw corrected himself-- clanmates began to argue back and forth, growing more uneasy by the second that it made him shuffle his paws and his whiskers quiver nervously.

They were turning on themselves! By the blazes, would they turn on Willowpaw, too?

The silver-tom surprised himself, though, as he moved to stand by Owlstar’s side, shoulders squared as he settled himself by the his Leader’s side, glaring at his protesting clanmates, wishing, for once, that he was bold enough to tell them to “stuff a mouse in it”, or other colorful things, instead of simply glaring at them. Suddenly, his shoulders slumped, and he lost his anger. It was useless. He was just a bug-- a bug they don’t even pay attention to enough, let alone to even think about squishing.

But at least Leaf-bare cares enough to pay attention to bugs-- at least… long enough to kill them, anyway.

[Rolo]

Frostpaw

Frostpaw had been sitting just a little way outside camp when the meeting was called, studying the way the light glittered on the soft white snow. Up until the call, she had been completely relaxed and wrapped up in herself, but as soon as the Fogclan leader spoke she immediately perked up and began to listen.

There was no way that she would miss this, that she'd let an opportunity to contribute to a proper discussion go. Within an instant, she was walking swiftly towards camp so she could watch the arguement unwind and escalate. As she wandered back, a smile crossed her face as soon as she heard the first signs of protest, and she unconciously hurried her pace, not wanting to miss a moment of this.

She arrived in camp to see that alot of cats had already gathered and yet more were on the way, despite Owlstar's idiotic order for everyone to stay where they were. When she arrived, it struck her that more cats were notably hostile than she expected. To her surprise, many were angry, some were even bristling at Owlstar's instructions. She couldn't help but find it slightly unnerving that so many cats were turning against their leader. It was probably just the chill in the air or the hunger but, nevertheless, seeing so many cats display their ability of free thought was shocking. These cats had surpassed her expectations.

She sat towards the back of the clearing, content for now with watching Falconpaw fight his corner in the kittish way he usually spoke. She couldn't care less about Owlstar's orders herself, she had no intention of following anything the black-and-white cat said. She wasn't one to do what she was told anyway, and the instructions were frankly thoughtless and made little sense. She could see easily why other cats were contesting them so strongly. Why should hardened cats of a smaller size have to stay in camp while snow was upon the ground? Size had little weight on how expert a cat was when it came to hunting, why would making larger cats hunt more increase the amount of prey caught? It made little sense, especially when she realised that lighter cats were probably better hunters... especially in the snow, where silent paws would give an advantage when crunching through the snow.

Frostpaw, already having marked the leader in her mind as a mousebrained idiot, found that Owlstar's order had done little to change her opinion.

She was just about to speak her mind when Mistpelt began to speak. Her fur prickled as the she-cat spoke against the leader, then suggesting she had had a message from Starclan. The entire speech sounded ridiculous but she dare not go against her. Some resolve in Mistpelt's form sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt unease spreading through her form. This unease continued as numerous cats sided with her. Rowanheart, Firepaw, Tawnywhisker, Volepelt. That was a ridiculous amount of support... Hailstorm, practically the only one in favour of Owlstar's plan, had been shot down immediately.

Frostpaw's enjoyment of the whole situation vanished in an instant. She realised in a jolt that most of the cats hadn't been going against their leader due to their own unique opinion, they had simply been following another cat's lead. It worried her... especially since Finchpaw had alerted her to the fact that Mistpelt seemed to have been indoctrinating his father. Something wasn't right here, but she'd have to wait and see what happened.

Frostpaw forced her pelt to lay flat and she took a deep breath. Right now, she could not go against these cats, because she wasn't exactly their favourite cat and they were unlikely to listen to her anyway. Instead, she would support them in their arguement and, hopefully, help Owlstar resolve the problem before things got any worse.

"Owlstar," She spoke sincerely, her eyes focused on the large black-and-white cat. "I understand what you mean, but I don't think you've thought this through."

She sounded genuinely concerned and freakishly polite. Frostpaw knew she would get absolutely nothing from this situation if she acted in her normal way, so modified it to compensate.

"The best hunters in the clan are usually those who are smaller and leaner," She dipped her head respectfully, "because they are quicker and lighter on their paws. In the snow, stealth is more difficult and larger cats are more likely to struggle to walk quietly. Also, hunting in the snow is a strenuous activity, more so than clearing the camp, if the larger cats only do the former, they are likely to exhaust themselves."

She paused, tilting her head slightly as she thought, "Surely, Owlstar, it would be better if you stopped cats from hunting alone and got Mistpelt to organise cats into patrols filled with cats of varying sizes and skills. That way larger cats can watch out for smaller cats and they can all make sure they don't over-exert themselves. After all, keeping cats safe for the rest of winter should be a priority."

Volepelt

Volepelt emerged from the warriors den when he heard Mistpelt spoke. Unlike most of the other cats, he had stayed exactly where he was as Owlstar had originally instructed. However, upon hearing his faithful comrade speak, he sensed immediately that the time Mistpelt had been waiting for was finally upon them.

As soon as he emerged from the den, his mind took to debating what exactly he should do. His initial instincts were to go and stand by Mistpelt, just as he had watched Willowpaw do so, and offer her his silent support. However, thinking things through more thouroughly, he realised there would be little gain in presenting the clan with two opposing sides, Owlstar or Mistpelt, and that Mistpelt would gain an advantage if she had supporters dotted around in the gathering. That way, Mistpelt's advice would be more likely to be seen as advice, rather than a full on attack, and cats were more likely to stay calmer for longer.

Volepelt wandered into the clearing and sat some way away from Mistpelt, shooting her a glance of acknowledgement that she hoped she would catch. He silently tried to beam to her that he understood, and that he was with her. As he had sworn, he would always be with her... even in difficult times like this one.

Having let the outcries wash over him, Volepelt found himself agreeing with the points made by some of his fellow Starclan followers. There was little more for him to say about the situation at hand, so he merely agreed with them.

"Firepaw and Rowanheart are right," He mewed loudly, "In weather like this, it is important we come up with a good survival strategy, especially when an ineffective one could mean death for the clan."

He looked towards Mistpelt again, "Besides, it seems Starclan has imposed their will upon Mistpelt. If we want to avoid their wrath, we best listen to what Mistpelt has to say."

[{amberrr}]

<sup>The brisk cold wind blew through the den, and Tigerheart jumped. The sleek tabby had been up before most of her Clanmates, unable to sleep. She looked around them, so many had made her seem insane, but they were the insane ones, and she would be the only one with StarClan...

She heard something move, most likely it was Owlstar. She bit back a hiss in disgust, that nonbeliever was going to be one of the first to go. Tigerheart stretched and got up, so much for her wash. She was about to move around a nest when Owlstar called to the Clan. He told them not to move out of their dens and only the big, stronger warriors were to be sent out into the outside world to protect a Clan, that was hers as well?

Tigerheart snarled in frustration, as she watched through the entrance as Falconpaw went up to turn on Owlstar. She heard the outbursts from her nonbeliever clanmates and twitched her whiskers in amusement. Poor, poor pathetic cats. Having no idea StarClan has no use for them. But, the humiliation. Only the big and strong warriors could go, while the rest would sit there, being useless! Honestly, did they think they were all simpleton as Owlstar?

They weren't some little kits who could be told they were bad, and then just go on with their lives. None of them were like that, none needed Owlstar's pity. He may be 'thinking' he has the best solution, and that the smaller cats would be hurt, but if they were smaller, and faster, they would be lighter, so they wouldn't fall in, unlike a bigger warrior would.

Did the nonbelievers really think that they could make a cat do nothing for there clan, but be a burden? Well, they thought wrong. Oh, so wrong. Tigerheart watched Mistpelt go up to Owlstar and nodded to herself, everything /she/ said was logical. If some of the the clan couldn't do anything, then that completely goes against the warrior code. She heard Hailstorm and almost flung at him, enraged.

'I would be careful where you go with this, Mistpelt, a deputy should always stand by their leader. No matter what.' Not if the leader is unreliable, and StarClan has not gratified him, or even meant to keep him leader, she thought to herself.

Tigerheart snarled at this and tried to calm herself, as she watched the Clan start to agree with Mistpelt over Owlstar. She decided to play it safe.

"It seems Mistpelt has over ruled Owlstar. " she meowed to herself.</sup>