[ the best part of believe is the LIE ]

[Crowzerplorodon]

Blackpaw almost slipped in the leader's den, on to stop mid-walk and scurry out of the way of Owlstar. She was a cat with a mission, after all. The apprentice stood by the den, watching her from there as she addressed the clan. Listening closely, the apprentice idly wondered if she should have talked this over with Mistpelt first, then shook the thought away. Mistpelt would ruin the plan entirely, probably. And Owlstar's decision was most likely perfect as is! Eyes wide, the young tom listened closely, soaking in exactly what his leader was saying. Well, Owlstar's decision had some holes, yeah, Blackpaw could see them. But he could also see where the she-cat was coming from, and nodded understandingly as she spoke. The smaller cats staying closer to camp would make it safer for them, just in case they slipped in the snow or something. And the larger cats most likely had more stamina and could stand the cold better, even if smaller cats would just be naturally better hunters.

“Shut up, Falconpaw!” Damn, he was starting to hate that cat. The younger apprentice should grow a brain or something because half the time, Blackpaw was sure Falconpaw put no thought into the things he did and said. He didn't dwell on the apprentice, however, as Mistpelt sapped his attention faster than the cold sapped his warmth. Reluctantly, Blackpaw agreed a little with her. A mixture would be... better. But what was this crap about evil in the clan and StarClan? Whatever the ivory she-cat was going on about didn't sound good, nor did it sound logical. StarClan sending her a dream but not Owlstar? Or Brightnose? Last he checked, StarClan only spoke to the leader or medicine cat. Mistpelt was just being... retarded. “And what did they tell you, great Mistpelt?” He hissed under his breath so no one could hear, moving to stand beside his leader and press his flank against hers.

Finally! A supporter! Blackpaw beamed at Hailstorm – he knew if any cat was going to be smart here, it would be the large warrior. Well, he didn't know that, per say. He just came to that conclusion after Hailstorm stood on Owlstar's side, because it seemed everyone was turning against her. Where was the logic in that? Owlstar was their leader for StarClan's sake. The starry cats picked her themselves! They gave her nine lives and graced her with the name -star, showing how she earned the position as leader. These cats, especially Mistpelt, had no right to stand up to her decisions so forcefully. Sure, express their own opinions. They could do that. But outright hate on the leader just for whatever reasons? Reasons that seemed to circle around a particularly devout white and brown she-cat? Well, that just wasn't right. They should circle around a black and white she-cat. Blackpaw growled under his breath.

The tom didn't care anymore about the actual issue. Owlstar would work something out that would hopefully appease these idiotic rebels. Maybe she'd take Frostpaw's advice (because Blackpaw liked Frostpaw, and therefore, like her advice) and set up a patrol system made up of all sizes. But, with cats breathing down her neck like she was some sort of enemy, Blackpaw felt that Owlstar's decision making might get compromised. Dammit, these cats needed someone to show them the light, and, now more than ever, Blackpaw wished StarClan was that light. He wanted those freaking starry cats to come down from above and tell all the cats to shut up and listen to their leader, as she was the leader after all. Or were they all suffering from memory loss that caused them to forget basic facts such as that? Hah, maybe so.

“You all need to shove your tails in your mouths and think before you speak,” the apprentice said with a yawn, raising his voice so hopefully everyone could hear him. “Really, come on, this is your leader. She just gave you an order. S'not like she's sayin' you can't go out if your not this size. She's just looking out for you.” By this point, he was probably speaking out of order. Not that doing that ever bothered Blackpaw. “If you've got some opposin' opinion just say it nicely, don't go hissing or outright denying your leader for StarClan's sake. That's just dumb.” Most of these cats were dumb anyhow.

[Spec]

A fine line had been drawn between the ranks of Fogclan, making it very clear whom to put her trust in and who to question their true motives. Those who rejected her words also rejected the word of Starclan, a great and near unforgivable sin. Gazing into every face she saw sparks of sin, driven into their souls by the leadership of not just Owlstar but her influence as well. Hailstorm was the first to verbalize his discontent. She hoped that one of her chosen disciples would speak for her behalf, so that she wouldn’t divert the path of her vision, and therefore decrease the amount of importance to her dream. The next to speak was the red furred apprentice that currently held her heart. Such a darling, loyal tom, she thought quietly to her self, arching proudly where she stood. Mistpelt’s strong affirmation of her choice shone within each syllable Firepaw spoke of, shadowed by the calmer, resonating version of his father. Eyes on the crowd, she did not mistake the tender look in his eyes, and was very glad for his reassuring glance, however stone faced she desired to be. Others soon added their outward opinions as well; including Tawnywhisker, who brought up a very strong point concerning the elders and apprentices of the clan, also Willowpaw, who seemed less inclined to voice his thoughts (self confidence of a kit, she sneered inwardly) to meander beside Owlstar, as if offering her protection. Her ear flicked once towards them, a smirk hidden under the contours of her blazing eyes. If they wished to subject themselves to Starclan’s wrath and their humiliation, let them, after all, the more Owlstar supporters up on Highrock, the less influence they’ll have inside the crowd, adding voice to strengthen her noble cause. Wisely, Frostpaw corrected her leader, although the ivory and silver marked she-cat could not be sure if her voice held any hidden undertone she should be wary about. She was pleased, yes, pleased that Frostpaw had a decent head on her shoulders, but wished her soul wasn’t so disturbingly corrupted to balance it out.

More and more cats assembled, ignoring Owlstar’s initial command of staying put. How untraditional could one get? They have always met underneath highrock to address their leader…When Owlstar yowled, no one advanced upon Highrock, yet when Mistpelt took the stand, steadily, they approached, inclining their heads to listen to their true leader. Another apprentice’s voice was heard within the throng, and with a subtle twist of her head, she saw Blackpaw, an expression like ice. Although his voice sounded pleasant, his tone were jaded, a double edged sword as he attempted to dislodge the deputy’s ruling. Even his first remark ending with a sardonic ‘great Mistpelt’ brought a sort of grim fascination towards him, as if he understood what kind of game she was playing at. But Blackpaw would not stand victorious over she, Starclan would not allow it, for the Starry Cats will have Their will enforced. Once his speech was regarded in silence, the she-cat took a half step forward, commanding attention once more, allowing her collected thoughts to travel down to the awaiting crowd, just as Volepelt’s eyes landed upon her own. Flashing him a very brief half smile, she began. “I remember seeing a very small outcrop...A fog lingered over the earth. Flowers sprung where the fog touched and life seemed well, but then...something fell from the sky and I soon saw that it was a feather and I heard the cry of an owl as it descended upon the ground. When it settled, the fog receded from it as if it were cursed. There the feather stayed, void of any life, while the flowers died around it. I thought the earth would simply die, but as I watched further and squinted through the darkness, a ghostly mist fell upon the feather and the feather blew away. It ended up getting caught in a pine tree. Then the fog mysteriously came back into the clearing, although it was dry, but with the mist, they moistened the ground and brought back the life, restoring it three fold. That was when I awoke. That was when Their meaning dawned over me, of the importance Their word would be to the entire clan. Consider it for yourselves, my friends, find Their meaning and discover the Truth.” She paused, turning her head towards Owlstar and allowing her gaze to simmer against her black and white pelt, before continuing, a mixture of pity and accusation convulsing between her sea foam gaze. "I think Starclan is making Their intentions very clear." Her vocals were laced with sadness, a humbled stance for the crowd to soak up. In order for Starclan's will to be complete, she needed to create a figure who would be the 'wise and reluctant leader', to generously remove the clan from Owlstar's rule in order to benefit everyone.

[/blockquote]

[Kelly]

Owlstar frowned, taken aback by the outcries of FogClan members. Yes she expected there to be some disgruntled feelings among the FogClanners, but not so many outright cries of disapproval to her decision. A rock set at the pit of her stomach, making the leader growl softly to herself in discomfort. Something was going wrong here. The cold was obviously getting to these cats, making them even more displeased with a simple instruction then they normally would be. Only a few of them seemed to see clearly and voice their agreements openly or keep their disapproval to themselves. Blackpaw and Willowpaw, the two friends, for one, were openly defending her. The leader smiled at each apprentice in turn, glad for their support, despite their status and age. And there was Hailstorm, definitely not a cat to go up against. His very figure was opposing, and Owlstar was glad to have the large warrior on her side in this petty dispute. Even Frostpaw seemed to be rational about it all. Sure she wasn't agreeing with Owlstar, but at least she wasn't outright disagreeing. All those talks of the she-cat being a angry ball of fur, hah, the leader couldn't quite see the truth in those at the moment.

But of course, there were the noisier cats. Firepaw, her very own apprentice, and his father, Rowanheart- though it didn't surprise the leader. Those two were close to Mistpelt, as were Volepelt and Tigerheart. “Peace, FogClan,” she yowled, raising her voice above all of the speakers. “I see your... complaints, though I wish you had the tongue to hold them in.” Her fur was fluffed up, not just against the cold wind, but the chill seeping out from so many of the cats around her. She was suddenly grateful for the two apprentice on either of her sides. “If you have something to say, speak to me one on one, I will be glad to listen to you.” Even if it meant listening to a bout of complaints. “And Tawnywhisker,” her voice was soft as she addressed the worried looking she-cat. “There will be those to care for the elders and Dovepaw, do not fret.” She wouldn't let those who could not help go hungry, that wasn't very warrior like.

She was about to raise her voice to address the clan again, when her cry was cut short by the familiar voice of her deputy. Owlstar turned to face Mistpelt, a faint trace of horror seeping into her green eyes with each word the white she-cat let loose from her mouth. To Owlstar, it was obvious what the dream was saying. FogClan was being destroyed by an owl feather, an owl feather. And mist was the one that would say it. The leader narrowed her eyes, speaking calmly to the deputy she thought she trusted. “What makes you so sure this was from StarClan, Mistpelt.” It wasn't a question. It was an accusations. “Since when did our ancestors address deputies? Never. If they wanted to warn FogClan, they would send dreams to myself or Brightnose, or have you forgotten that Brightnose can speak against me as well?” She paused, glad for the sudden silence. “Dreams can just be dreams, Mistpelts. The remnants of a days work. And, who is to say you even had this dream?” Her whole body shook with the idea that Mistpelt was making it up, just to do away with her. “It sounds like you are trying to make a claim you cannot back up.” If it came to a fight, Owsltar knew she could win. Not only was she larger than her deputy, but she still had eight lives left, given to her by StarClan themselves. Mistpelt had one.

[Whiskers]

Rowanheart

Rowanheart was very proud of his clan. The majority of cats were seeing reason, picking out the holes in Owlstar's mousebrained order easily. Even Falconpaw, barely out of kithood, saw how unfair it was. He felt a little bit of admiration for his bravery, though really... the way he had voiced his opinion was not the best. And when his son jumped forward, well, Rowanheart knew he would have to remind Firepaw how to control his anger. His son was smart and definitely meant only the best, but he could have said what he had to say much better.

The real surprise was Frostpaw. Rowanheart stared at his apprentice with his mouth slightly open. She was...was...agreeing with him. With Firepaw. With...with all of those against Owlstar. Good Starclan, it was the end of the world! Was this a trick? It had to be a trick? Frostpaw would never sound that pleasant or polite or... like she had a good head on her shoulders. Was it possible that his training was actually starting to make an impact? Maybe Starclan was finally starting to get through with her?

He snorted. 'Course not. But this is a sign that she is maturing and... and... I have to admit, I'm proud. Rowanheart tucked his comment away and made a note to never ever ever reveal it to anyone. How embarrassing it would be.

Luckily, Rowanheart's attention was yanked away from Frostpaw with Mistpelt revealing her dream and Owlstar immediately putting it down. The large warrior let out a short, quiet growl at her silly dismissal of Mistpelt's dream. It wasn't just a dream! How could Fogclan leader say such a thing? It was practically blasphemy to go against the word of Starclan, to even suggest that it was a lie... Rowanheart barely kept his muzzle shut as his anger tried to force it's way out of his throat. He wasn't going to start yowling like Firepaw-- as much as he deeply wanted to, he knew that he needed to keep control of himself. But that...dirty, impure... that wretched she-cat--

"Owlstar is correct. Brightnose and I have received no dream from Starclan, nor any indication that Starclan has a problem with Owlstar's leadership." Finchpaw had stepped forward, a slight tremble in his paws, yet his voice was very clear, his eyes drifting from Mistpelt to Frostpaw and then back again...

Why was he looking at Frostpaw?! Why was he using his status to try and disprove Mistpelt's dream?! What the hell was his son doing? Something exploded in the tom and his claws gripped at the soil as a louder growl rolled out of him. If the whole clan wasn't watching, he would grab Finchpaw by the scruff of his scrawny neck and drag him back into the nursery-- clearly he hadn't grown up at all!

Instead, he waited for Finchpaw to pause, and then he stepped in front of him, forcing him back. "Yes, perhaps Brightnose didn't receive a dream because it was meant for Mistpelt's eyes. It is unusual for a cat other than the medicine cat, or leader, to have Starclan send them a dream, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen," Rowanheart said and was pleased that he managed to sound collected, though he was more or less freaking out inside.

"To excuse Mistpelt's dream as just a dream could be a terrible mistake. What if Starclan really is speaking to us? If we do not listen, we could pay the consequences." He stepped back and then faced his son.

"You are an idiot, Finchpaw. To deny the word of Starclan...you disgust me! Go to the medicine cat den." He hissed quietly and angrily into his son's ear. "Go. I can't bear the thought of you disgracing me again like that. Go!"

[/size]

[Rolo]

Volepelt

Volepelt had watched the proceedings carefully, watching studiously to see where each cat's loyalty lay. As expected, there had been some resistance, but the amount of followers they had gathered were sorting it out more swiftly than he could have hoped. When Mistpelt spoke of her dream again, he remained completely alert to the others around him, taking particular notice of Owlstar.

He had already marked out the Volepelt growled internally as Owlstar spoke, anger shooting adrenaline coursing through his body. She was a typical sinner, one who was so deluded by their own self-importance that they did not recognise the sins that lay deep beneath their soul, tainting their every thought and action. Owlstar was blind and completely foolish, and the comments she made were little more than excuses she was employing to stay in control. A true follower would never suggest such an obvious dream was false, even if it came from a mere apprentice, for every devout starclan believer knew Starclan worked in odd ways.

As he thought to himself, he suddenly heard a timid voice speaking up from the back of the clan. He turned to watch and his eyes narrowed.

Finchpaw. Medicine cat apprentice. Rowanheart's son.

A snarl escaped his throat. He had known that Fogclan was corrupt and steeped in sin, but he had never imagined that it had gotten to a stage when one of Starclan's own chosen had stopped receiving messages from them. If Starclan had not sent Brightnose or Finchpaw a dream of any kind, the indications were clear; they had fallen out of favour.

He stared harshly at the medicine cat apprentice, his brow furrowed. He had always suspected Brightnose lurked in darkness, but not Finchpaw. He had guessed that Rowanheart would deal with his own son and raise him correctly, for he was a cat not dissimilar to him, but this was blatantly not so. He felt a great disappointment in the older ginger tom.

As he had always known, he was correct. Being raised in love and left to mingle with other cats, even those of the most noble heritage were likely to become corrupt. If Rowanheart could not discipline his son, Volepelt would have to do so himself.

Rowanheart then spoke. The tom shared half of what was on Volepelt's mind, but he found the tom did not have the wisdom he possessed. That or he was soft and purposely ignoring the obvious. His comrade did something towards mending his bruised reputation, but not enough for Volepelt's faith to be restored.

He knew immediately that he must speak.

"Owlstar, you may claim that, as the medicine cats have not have a dream, that this dream must be completely false, but I detest that claim." He narrowed his eyes at the leader, "Although I did not come from the Forestclan, the place of your birth, I did come from a clan. I have believed and loved Starclan for a great many moons and have seen them work in strange ways. You, Owlstar, have not been a leader for many moons and you have not reigned long enough to know Starclan truly, so you should not be downplaying the importance of a possible dream from them."

His eyes narrowed further, "Besides, Owlstar, the ideas represented in Mistpelt's dream are coming true. Finchpaw has admitted that the medicine cats have not received any dreams on Fogclan's behalf. Could it be that Fogclan have lost Starclan's favour because it is tainted?"

He paused and then asked aggressively, "Have you had any dreams the past few moons, Owlstar?"

[Pyro]

Reedfoot started at Owlstar's call for them to listen. So the sinful leader had finally come up with a plan to address the rapidly decreasing situation that the cold and snow had brought on. She listened with disgust, her fur bristling as the she-devil proclaimed that only large cats would be allowed outside to hunt, whilst the smaller, and in her diseased mind, presumably weaker cats, would be confined to the camp to...to sit and wait like newborn kits for milk! Oh yes, of course they would be expected to 'work', to 'repair' the damage the snows had caused. What idiocy. If Owlstar considered the small cats to weak in the snow outside to hunt, why on earth would she expect them to do any better in the snows within camp? It had snowed just as hard in camp as it had over the expanse of their hunting-territory. What Hippocracy. Clearly she was just looking for a way to show favour towards those of bulk like herself.

Of course, Reedfoot expected nothing less from the plagued root that was poisoning the righteous tree of FogClan.

Before she could open her mouth to protest this discriminatory treatment, a fellow small-sized cat (and devoted believer), Falconpaw, rouse to the occasion. Reedfoot mentally nodded her approval of the tom, who courageously stood against not only a cat vastly larger than himself, but the very cat that heinously befouled FogClan's purity.

Her mind could only bask in this small light of hope for a second, for another sinner had stepped forward beside Owlstar: Blackpaw. She glared at him silently cursing the apprentice's ignorant approval of his 'leader'. Reedfoot let out a low growl as Hailstorm supported the apprentice. this growl became more pronounced as the tom dared to say that Mistpelt should also be supporting Owlstar. How dare he imply that Mistpelt, the most devote and pure of them all should bow before the blackest sinner, Owlstar, and carry out her evil will.

She nodded her head in agreement with Firepaw as he spoke of the ignorance of a deputy blindly agreeing with their leader. Did he know how right he was? How beautifully his words matched with the situation under the surface of this matter?

Finally Mistpelt spoke again, with all the clearness of Starclan, with and of their will. It was coming. The she-cat sensed this with every fiber of her being. A few more words, another mind unsure of what Owlstar's true intentions were, and the tainted leadership of Owlstar would be over. Surely the leader saw that it was pointless? That she could not oppose the almighty will of StarClan?

But no.

That black-hearted, sinful, soulless wretch had the gall to question Mistpelt...to...to accuse her of all cats of being the evil one! And worse of all the medicine apprentice, Rowanheart own son, Finchpaw, agreed with heinous sinner. She watched momentarily as Rowanheart scolded him and rightly attempted to send him back to the medicine cat den where he could do no more harm. As she watched she became somewhat saddened that Rowanheart‘s teachings had not stuck with his son. But this could be remedied later. Now, there was a more important matter at hand, one that had to be dealt with before any permanent cleansing could take place.

She nodded in agreement as Volepelt spoke and rose. ”Sitting idle in your den, not even deigning to train your own apprentice…Discrimination, and now your newest sin, defying StarClan‘s will when they could not have been clearer in what they want? Volepelt is right. You have not been a true leader for moons. That being the case how can you still believe that Starclan still shows favor to you? To someone as sinful and tainted as you? Mistpelt‘s vision was no mere dream. To think as such is ignorance in its blackest form.”

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Falconpaw

Things were happening so...so...fast. They were generally good, but...there were a few snags, snags of filthy cats objecting to Owlstar's dumb idea...but Mistpelt had come forth, saying the full truth and glory of what was to come! She even praised him. He held his striped head higher. How dare Hailstorm glare at him like that! He had no idea of what was going on, senior warrior though he was. Falconpaw was bold enough to shoot an amber-eyed glare back at him, fangs slightly exposed.

But Firepaw and Rowanheart were here! Good. But so was Finchpaw...urgh. And Frostpaw...but there were also many supporters of the deputy, and they outnumbered the idiots...Willowpaw came up beside him, whispering...he replied in a loud, confident, and assuring voice.

"What have I done, Willowpaw? I've only started the way to a better future, and helped its creator on her way, like a true warrior of StarClan."

But shock and despair! Blackpaw was yelling at him! Blackpaw, his friend! Well, he wasn't his friend anymore, and besides, he had a firm comrade in Firepaw now, so he need not worry.

The brown apprentice yowled,

"You know what, Blackpaw? No one cares. Let the cats who have important things to say speak and shut your dumb mouth. You don't know what's really going on here, so listen. Mistpelt knows all."

He felt a bit of flattery would be good for his future leader.

Brightnose

There seemed to be some sort of commotion about Owlstar's announcement going on...the calico cared little for what her leader said. It did not apply to her anyway. She guessed it made sense...but she didn't really care. Let the rest of her Clan bicker about it; they'd decide something with minimal fuss and orders would be carried out, as usual.

Or so she thought.

When she caught loud voices of confident complaint...and Finchpaw himself left the den..she tuned in more to what was going on, orange-and-black ears straining.

Things were getting serious...she heard her name mentioned...will of StarClan? Something very much out of the ordinary was happening...excited and a little afraid, she padded out of the bush that was her den.

Almost immediately the sheer amount of noise and moving cats and protests and speeches was almost too much to handle. But she made herself search for Finchpaw, and she pushed to his side in time to hear he and his father's words.

Speaking up as loudly as she could over the clamor, she meowed,

"My apprentice is right! I have had no word of StarClan about all this. And I think, at least, if taint were so plain as you say, Volepelt, FogClan would be far less of a Clan than it is. I am medicine cat, and I see no taint. But then-"and here her tone changed, becoming cautious, "-perhaps StarClan did not warn me because they thought my actions in what to come would be obvious. I cannot make any judgments yet or lend support to any side, I do not know enough."

Though the FogClanner knew she had power, she needed to tread carefully when much was unknown.

But one more thing needed to be said.

Coldly, she turned to the large warrior near her and spoke in a cold, quiet mew.

"Do not be so quick to judge your son, Rowanheart. You may be his father, but I am his mentor, and only I have the right to send him to my den."

Birchtail

It was happening! At long, long last! The time to show the will of StarClan had begun! She swiftly padded back into camp, almost running to where all the commotion was.

And there was Falconpaw, boldly challenging the unclean leader herself! How proud he was making her! She ran over to him, fluffy tail waving, to lick him on the head.

"Mom!" He mewed, squirming away. "Stop it! Don't ya know what's goin' on?"

The tabby purred and murmured, "Of course I do. I'm so proud of you for starting the way to cleanliness."

He looked away and muttered, "Yeah, well...someone had to."

But where was Cinderpaw? Surely her daughter should be present at such a momentous happening.

[roscoe]

Commotion. That was the word drifting around Duskheart's mind as he listened to the cats argue. Owlstar's message surely had not be so confrontational, had it? All she had done was address things that needed to be addressed in her rightful opinion. If one did not agree, they needed to speak in calm terms with the leader, and not start something between the clan. Which is what was happening right now, the large warrior decided as he listened to cats shout back and forth from the warriors den. Unlike others, he had taken his leader's advice, and remained in the warriors den. Far warmer in here, which suited the dark colored tom just fine. Now, maybe if others had taken that same advice, they would be tucked away in a warm place as well, and not letting the cold get to them. Oh and the cold was definitely getting to them, Duskheart could tell that much when the words 'StarClan' were brought up. Reluctantly, the warrior slipped out of the den in silence, joining the slowly growing group of cats that settled by Owlstar's den.

With a peacefully blank expression, the warrior listened to Mistpelt, nodding slowly as if he agreed with the young deputy. Which, in a way, he did. There were certain evils in FogClan that resided in every clan. Owlstar, though, was not one of them. The old tom patiently waited for other cats to speak when Mistpelt finished, glad that Owlstar had seen to reason that the whole dream aspect was pointed out. After all, since when did dreams dictated how life took a course? His pale green eyes settled on Volepelt, understanding the tom's reasoning behind being so dedicated to Mistpelt. And though he was not spoken to, the tom felt it better a time than any to join in the increasingly heated conversation. “I have had a dream recently, Volepelt,” he said evenly, shifted to stand next to the brown warrior with a smile. “It was green-leaf and blessedly warm, with prey abundant and not a fleck of snow in sight.” The tom smiled again, recalling the pleasant dream. “You were in it, my friend. All of you were in it, really. It was just a normal day in green-leaf, with kits playing and apprentices training. The kind of day we all hope to experience everyday, I'm sure you know the feeling.” He paused there, more for affect than to gather his thoughts. “But I awoke to frigid air and chilling snow. Not entirely pleasant, you must see, to learn that my dream was merely that, a dream. In the end, all dreams are just dreams, and whether we interpret them as messages from StarClan or not is entirely up to the cat receiving the dream, would you not say?”

Duskheart paused again, walking away from Volepelt to sit by Hailstorm, feeling more comfortable around the other tom cat. “What's important and what is not is opinion, Falconpaw,” he said softly, giving the apprentice a stern stare. “Don't be so quick to label someone's words as unimportant, it may haunt you one day.” Hopefully Brightnose would dispell this argument, though. Rowanheart had been too quick to push off Finchpaw, but Brightnose was the Medicine Cat, and the one closest to StarClan. Surely cats would listen to her words. And, if not, Duskheart would falter in saying that this gathering would end peacefully and rightfully.

[Slug]

Daddy, daddy, when will you love me?

Was he breathing faster? No. No of course not. Was he panicking?

Oh, definitely. Especially after all their bickering and Mistpelt's... speeches. But he, Willowpaw, steeled himself to ignore it and focus on something else entirely.

"S-stop...." He whispered feebly to himself, looking at the snow-covered ground. His father's glassy, frost covered eyes appeared in his mind, mocking him. He could practically hear the disappointment in his voice-- in Snow-whisker's. "What happened to the little, feisty kit I found in the snow all those moons ago, Willow'? What happened...?" Father would not be proud with him. Snow-whisker would be ashamed... he would be disgusted with the stuttering ball of fear Willowpaw was now.

And that made the petite tom... snap.

"Stop it!" Willowpaw suddenly snarled loudly, eyes flashing with utter pity at those around him. "You're... you're turning on each other! Your own clanmates!" He practically spat, raw anger dripping from his words. And... disappointment. Lots of it. "You should be ashamed of yourselves! We are not the barbarians from those kittypet tales they whisper to their kits to put them to bed! We are not!"

Willowpaw stood taller, more boldly, his silver-furred pelt puffing out in a irritated manner, eyes narrowed and observing his... clanmates. "We have a code..." He started, voice more softly. "What happened to it?" He asked, almost sadly.

"I ch-challenge you all to an-answer that." Willowpaw said, calmly, though his stutter was beginning to return, much to his chagrin.

But no matter. He had gotten his point across. The silent, nervous apprentice, had finally spoken, despite the fact that there was a 50/50 percent chance that his clan would react badly to his words, Willowpaw had decided... to say them anyway.

And, damn the consequences!

Daddy, daddy, do you love me now?

[prowler.]

hailstorm.

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As Hailstorm's words were met with general distastes, he turned to glower back at a particularly rude and ignorant apprentice - Firepaw. An apprentice unfortunately dissimilar to his much more mature, contained father, whom Hailstorm had no reason honestly to dislike. As the apprentice retorted Hailstorm snorted lightly and rolled his eyes in a manner that immediately blurted his thoughts back though his expression "well duh, stupid". His entire point was that Mistpelt hadn't discussed anything with Owlstar before this whole mess, so obviously that was what he'd been suggesting - no sensible cat that wished to avoid outrage would bring talk of StarClan and go against their leader. It was something best discussed in private between the two if they had any dispute, not to be tiptoed around until it came blurting into light.

It was quite clear, also, from the other's reaction that his entire notation of the warrior code on loyalty had in fact been so as to warn Mistpelt not to cause an open confrontation - nothing to do with the whole "small cats stay near while big cats go hunting" scenario. Quite frankly, he thought that small fish that was totally understandable and if others thought not, there were easy compromises. As Rowanheart spoke, Hailstorm distracted himself from the particularly annoying apprentice Firepaw and looked up at the other warrior. He paused for a moment, somewhat hesitant. 'Yes and it was Owlstar that was chosen by StarClan to speak for them, both her and Brightnose - Mistpelt was but chosen by Owlstar herself and should show respect as such until StarClan themselves approve of her upon her visit to receive her lives, should such a day come.' But all the same, Hailstorm found himself nodding slightly - Rowanheart was right on one thing though, in that StarClan were the highest power of all and therefore any word that may - or not - have come from them need be heard.

Hailstorm found himself shrugging off spiteful gazes, hiding the fury in his own eyes. How dare they glower at he! A cat that merely noted that all should follow the Warrior Code in the proceedings, a cat that had proven himself a thousandfold a loyal warrior to the clan, a believer, a mentor and with only the clan's best interest in mind. His thoughts simmered infuriatingly within his head for several more moments until he noticed others on his side also - he was not alone in believing that loyalty came first to Owlstar, not some nonsensical news of a so-called message to a deputy, for StarClan's sake! All the same, Hailstorm held his tongue and ignored the immature retorts from the Owlstar-haters.

He curled his lip in distaste, a sour feeling upon his tongue - where had all this sudden hatred come from? To turn against one's own leader was exceptionally treacherous, even at the best of times, but to do so at such a slight mistake. Hailstorm dared any of these cats that criticized her so readily to take on such a duty, to have that kind of responsibility and somehow be able to please everyone. It was then that Mistpelt snapped the attention of every cat back on to herself, here it went then, she was telling them the dream. It took Hailstorm a moment, after Mistpelt had finished, to break out of his dumbfounded shock. What a traitor! What an uncouth, treacherous she-cat that had indeed sprung up from their nest! Mistpelt needed to be reminded, Hailstorm thought, that it was not StarClan that had chosen her as Deputy and therefore given her any path to having influence - no it had been Owlstar - and in trust! In belief that Mistpelt was what was best for the clan!

It took much of Hailstorm's self control to hold himself back and his face contorted with distaste. None of Mistpelt's "vision" sat with him - it was a dream and an ambitious one at that. Out of her own hatred and vileness, Mistpelt's dreams had been concocted by her mind - if they had even been concocted at all - and now she had the stick to come and claim they were sent by StarClan! Then to rant of the evilness dwelling within FogClan! FogClan were one of the most devout clans in the forest, if not the most devout! They could not possibly have fallen so out of favour. Before he could voice his outrage, Owlstar's soothing voice spoke reason, speaking Hailstorm's thoughts aloud - where was Mistpelt's proof? These were grave accusations to be made, particularly for a deputy - a cat that was not bound by StarClan in the same way that Medicine Cats were chosen.

As cats came forward and spoke in Mistpelt's defence, Hailstorm noted a horrific trend. These were not just thoughts made up on the spot, this was not the first time that many of these warriors had heard of this vision, this had been planned, plotted to bring Owlstar's downfall. The fall of "evil", supposedly, but what they were doing in itself was evil, to betray those that you had not even so long ago pledged your allegiance to. He noted the key players, Rowanheart, who dismissed his own son from his side at the slightest sign that the apprentice disagreed with his father's opinion. Hailstorm bittered toward the tom he had thought better than that in an instant, so much for similarities. Volepelt seemed key also, rising to blab about history of other clans in his past and of StarClan he long "far knew more about than Owlstar" it made Hailstorm sick.

But the support was clear also - Blackpaw and Willowpaw stood loyally by Owlstar's side even now and then Duskheart appeared amidst the others. The tom had not said much yet, but now he did, speaking sense in a calm manner to the Mistpelt follower's rashness. Brightnose too, came out to affirm that she too had not had a dream, Hailstorm wrinkled his nose lightly. What was Mistpelt claiming? That each of them were so impure that she, the most clean of all, was the only one that could lead this religious crusade to victory? Arrogant. He decided, labelling the she-cat perfectly in his mind. And totally insane he decided. Cat's always reasoned with that they saw, they spoke to others that could interpret such things better, but no, Mistpelt had plotted, grown her support up and viciously attacked her leader in public. Some holy warrior, to act so slyly.

As Willowpaw stepped forward Hailstorm felt pride prickle at his chest that the apprentice that had so recently been shot down, hungry, by Mistpelt mere days before. Hailstorm remembered his hunt with the young apprentice, helping him hone his skill and giving him company and confidence to enjoy himself, even in the harsh weather. It was hard to believe that at this moment Willowpaw was the same cat, defying so many others to defend a just cause. As he spoke, Hailstorm nodded, waving his tail in a lightly soothing manner and calming his own rage. Once the apprentice was done, Hailstorm himself rose and nodding, continued. 'Willowpaw is right, we are all here clanmates to one another, we all accepted the warrior code and each and every one of us should be proud to follow it.'

Hailstorm swept his gaze around the clearing, daring anyone to speak up that they regretted or defied their sacred vows. 'As others have mentioned, dreams can just be dreams, this alone is not proof enough. I, personally, see cold, disheartened cats - I do not blame any of you, the leafbare has been a harsh one so far, but we have always progressed through such cruel weather and shall continue to do so. We should not, as a result of it, seek to find "evil" that is not present. I for one do not see evil, wicked cats around us and I certainly don't see it in Owlstar - she has always done what is best for the clan and speaks and sees only reason, for the better good of the clan. If any of you could do a better job, I'd like to see you try.' Hailstorm turned away from the other cats now and faced Mistpelt instead, directing his words at her now.

'And Mistpelt, who was it that chose you as a deputy? Was it not Owlstar herself? Yes, you could say that StarClan saw that she would appoint you, but why would they not simply cut out the middle-cat if such was their will? You must remember that StarClan are all-powerful in ways we cannot foresee, they see the past, future and present. They granted her the nine lives of a leader, who is to say that they would give such a gift only to withdraw their blessing from her? StarClan are not fools, they see to the heart of a cat, they do not give unwelcome news in such desperate times. I think you are a fool for bringing this to our paws when our efforts are best placed in survival, not arguing in such a demeaning manner. I believe it would've been better if you had consulted Owlstar alone in this matter, Mistpelt, but I can clearly see it is too late for such things, a pity.'

Hailstorm turned away now, padding back a few steps to return to his place beside Duskheart. The opposition was formidable, but Hailstorm himself was no weak symbol, he stood with a proud, solid physique, lined with all the hard-trained muscle of a warrior seasoned through much experience. Hailstorm dared any cat to defy that words he had said did not have scraps of truth in every point. In truth, he could see that the clan would eventually be divided in this manner - he only hoped they chose the Warrior Code over some unsubstantiated fear of StarClan's wrath.[/blockquote][/blockquote]