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The frigid air was taut with an unspoken tension. A full moon cast a blurry glow that fell like mist over the clearing, and the stars felt invisible to the forest's inhabitants. Within the eerie cloud of the moon, all four clans stood, a mere five cats from each clan to represent their peers.

Unlike the friendly, news-sharing gatherings typically held beneath the rounded eyes of the moon, this was all business. Only the elite were present: leader, deputy, medicine cat, and two hand-picked warriors of the leader's choice. The groups of five were clearly separated, glowering at each other while suspicious murmurs were shared; even the healers seemed full of animosity and distrust, though theirs was less conspicuous. War had ravishing the lake territories for moons, and now, part way through leaf-bare, the clans were feeling the consequences of the fighting. Hardly any herbs essential to the healing process were still growing beneath the frost, prey was scarce and scrawny, and the anxiety was slowly driving everyone insane.

Wolfstar of ShadowClan, a thick-furred sable she-cat with haunting amber eyes, stepped forward first, her breath swirling in a warm cloud around her muzzle as she breathed. Her notably long whiskers twitched at the conflicting temperatures of her breath and the surrounding air, and her fangs, despite having sunk into numerous bodies, still presented that youthful white color when she parted her jaws to speak.

"Are we going to talk, or are we just going to huddle around our clanmates glaring at each other? Because if we are, I'm sure we'd all be a lot happier going back to our dens." She sneered, earning hate-filled looks from other clan representatives.

"I don't know, are we, Wolfstar? Because you seem like you'd much rather spill more blood like the rogue you are," Newtstar, RiverClan's leader, bit back.

Wolfstar smirked haughtily, stepping further from her circle of protection closer to Newtstar, who snarled at her sudden closeness. Newtstar didn't cower, though, meeting Wolfstar's stare head-on, his brown and gray-mottled coat ruffling in the night zephyrs. His unusually light green eyes were narrowed into slits befitting of an adder, and his ears unconsciously pulled back onto his skull.

"I'm a rogue now, Newtstar? That's a new one." Wolfstar responded, her voice light and airy as though she was talking casually to a clanmate, while her irises darkened and her claws dug into the freezing earth.

Newtstar didn't falter under her harsh stare, "You have broken the code numerous times, Wolfstar. You don't deserve the title of a warrior, much less a leader's. You are no better than a dirty rogue, you take pride in brutality and have the nerve to pass on these immoral ethics to your apprentices."

Wolfstar's eyes gleamed wickedly, "I suppose you're right," she unlocks her claws from the dirt below and slashes Newtstar's muzzle before she finishes exhaling.

The RiverClan leader yowled in surprise and pain, unintentionally stumbling away from Wolfstar, who crouched and prepared to lunge.

"Stop!" The bird-like cry of Meadowrose, ThunderClan's medicine cat, cut through the moment between Wolfstar and Newtstar, who both froze under her plea. Both turned to stare at the tortoiseshell she-cat, whose fur was bristled to the point where she looked double her actual size. Her amber eyes were wide with horror, quite possibly the only pair who was still truly opposed to the violence plaguing the clans.

Out of all the clans, Beechstar of ThunderClan had tended to keep his clan the most out of the carnage, presumably because of the brown and cream tom's not-so-well-hidden affections for Meadowrose, who detested the bloodshed. Their clan was the least damaged and the healthiest in the lake territories because of this, whereas ShadowClan had thinning numbers due to Wolfstar's bloodlust.

The clearing went stiff, the only sounds filling air being Meadowrose's ragged breathing and the light breeze wafting across the lake.

Again, Wolfstar broke the silence with a remark, "Beechstar, control your kittypet; make her roll over or something." She snorted, her focus returning to Newtstar, whose muzzle was now streaked with his own pride.

Meadowrose looked appalled by Wolfstar's words, while Beechstar was livid; no one ever dared to disrespect Meadowrose, not in his presence, at least.

Before Beechstar could elevate the rising hostilities, the silent WindClanners joined the meeting. Hollowstar, a thin-pelted white she-cat with gray and brown markings, spoke, "As fun as this all is, we are not going anywhere. We said we'd meet here and compromise until we came up with some solution, and we all know it'd be going back on all of our words to just sit here and berate each other with kit-ish insults like this."

"Alright, what do you suggest then, hare-breath?" Newtstar spat, a silent fire blazing in his irises as the shock of Wolfstar's strike wore thin.

Hollowstar's ears flicked in annoyance, "How about stop taunting each other so we can actually get something done?"

Hollowstar's speaking took Wolfstar's attention from the bleeding Newtstar, making her regard the moorland inhabitant with some morbid curiosity. Her umber eyes were trained on Hollowstar, a predator transfixed on its prey. A throbbing urge bubbled up within the dark she-cat, and all she could think about was sinking her teeth into her windpipe; she could almost taste the metallic, poisonous tang of blood with the help of the scent of Newtstar's bleeding.

Mothtuft, ShadowClan's medicine cat, felt a wave of dread wash over her as she recognized the gleam in Wolfstar's eyes. She wanted desperately to break her focus, but she didn't dare; Wolfstar was obsessed with blood and death, and from that moment, Mothtuft knew it was either her or Hollowstar.

Beechstar, still seething over Wolfstar's words towards Meadowrose, tersely asked, "You start throwing out ideas, then."

Hollowstar looked from her clan members to her opposing clans' members thoughtfully, "Maybe we need something new, something neutral."

"Like?" Beechstar pressed, his anger fizzling out as he began to think of solutions himself.

"Like," Newtstar suddenly joined in, "Code enforcers," he suggested, sneaking a glance at Wolfstar, who paid him no mind.

Hollowstar's eyes lit up, "Yes! Something to enforce the code, something to enforce peace in times of scarcity, like in leaf-bare, to make sure no clan suffered a cold, desolate war ever again."

Whitefur, Wolfstar's deputy, spoke, "How would that be possible?"

"A third party," Beechstar stated.

"Like rogues?" Newtstar scoffed, looking skeptically at the RiverClan leader.

Hollowstar shook her head, "No, not rogues, but yes, a third party for sure."

Wolfstar, eyes still fixed on Hollowstar, wordlessly stalked closer, completely lost from the conversation.

"Like a fifth clan?" Whitefur questioned, scowling at the absurdity of it.

"Perhaps, but I don't know how that could be done," Newtstar said thoughtfully, "There's always going to be some bias, and sides will be taken if there's a third party, bribery, something's going to corrupt it. I say we just all make peace with each other and make an oath to swear on our lives that for the rest of leaf-bare and new-leaf, we have no conflicts so we can all rebuild. This third party stuff isn't going to work."

Hollowstar shook her head, "No, that won't work either; do you really think after how much we've been fighting that we could just stop like that? Someone's going to ruin it, Newtstar. We need a real solution, even if we hold to the oath, we'll still fight again."

Newtstar snorted, "Alright, then tell me how this 'third party' would work? Where would they come from, what rules would they follow, and where would they live? What would make them so special that we would all just back down and submit to their orders?"

Beechstar watched Hollowstar curiously with some sort of wonder that his third party suggestion had made it this far, anxious for what she would say next.

"They… they would live amongst the clans," Hollowstar began, "Rotating through clan-to-clan on different time frames."

"And?" Newtstar prompted, "This has corruption written all over it, Hollowstar. If a bunch of cats hopped from clan-to-clan, some bribes and favors are going to be requested, and these cats are going to just become glorified spies for the clans to use against each other. This won't stop war, it will create war!"

Hollowstar shook her head again, "No! Because there would be a code for them, a different one from ours-"

"What would that do? If they're above the law, this won't work!" Newtstar interrupted, his lips pulled back into a defiant snarl as his thick tail swooshed irately behind him.

"Of course it would, these cats would have the integrity our ancestors had, these cats wouldn't ignore their set of rules." Hollowstar insisted.

Wolfstar continued her steady approach to the WindClan leader, who, engrossed in her conversation, failed to acknowledge her advances. A feral look had taken over her features, and nothing but blood on her palate could stop the horrid urge she felt to do this.

"Alright, Hollowstar, and who would these almighty, wonderful, pure-hearted cats come from?" Newtstar snapped, "Because right now, nothing is right, even our best warriors that we have brought along tonight are corrupt and biased, there is no purity left, and you know that."

Hollowstar didn't respond at first, "Well, I'm not sure. All clans would have to contribute, I know that-"

Newtstar scoffed, "How would that work? This idea isn't going anywhere, I say we all just do the oath and deal with this later!"

Meadowrose chipped in, "Why don't the medicine cats go to the Moon Pool? Maybe StarClan can give us some answers so we know if an oath is the right way to go, or if we should try the third party thing, or if we should do something else."

The cream colored ThunderClan leader looked proudly at his medicine cat, "That's a good idea, Meadowrose," he looks to the respective medicine cats in each group, "Jaggedridge, Lightfall, Mothtuft, would you be willing to do that?"

Mothtuft didn't notice her own name's mention, her breath baited as she watched Wolfstar move with grim expectation, completely out of tune with the meeting.

The medicine cats didn't respond, but Newtstar did.

Newtstar snarled, "How dare you address Jaggedridge? I am his leader, not you, Beechstar. Do not speak to him without my permission, or I'm calling this whole truce off."

Beechstar looked baffled first, then flat out angry, his fur sticking up like needles in the night. "You are being completely ridiculous, Newtstar! I was merely confirming what my medicine cat was suggesting! How does that equate to me controlling or acting inappropriately? Wolfstar didn't even react like that, when that horrid beast of a leader doesn't react and you do, you know you're overreacting." He spat irately.

Meadowrose shrank back in response, her pelt heating with embarrassment and horror that her suggestion turned into a full out argument.

"Stop, this is why we are still at war with each other!" Hollowstar cried, "We get so touchy over nothing! Enough! We came to negotiate, not-"

Wolfstar hit like a bolt of lightning, her unsheathed claws making contact with the white WindClan leader's cheek first. Each sharpened curve latched deep into Hollowstar's flesh before promptly tearing backwards, splattering blood in dew-sized drops on both she-cats. Wolfstar's eyes held a wicked, sadistic gleam to them as she clamped her lovely white fangs into Hollowstar's shoulder and reinserted her claws into her chest and side.

Hollowstar yowled in shock and pain, her already-battered body twisting around in Wolfstar's grasp in an attempt to wriggle free. Wolfstar had none of that, deepening her hold and tearing through flesh. Metallic crimson spluttered in uneven pulses from Hollowstar's wounds as other cats began to react to the sudden attack.

Clawfoot, Hollowstar's deputy, was the first to lunge to his leader's defense, slashing at Wolfstar's thick black pelt. The addition of Clawfoot spurred Whitefur into the fray, tackling the WindClan deputy clear of Wolfstar as she ripped into the screeching Hollowstar.

More and more blood seemed to spill across the clearing, pooling around both fighting pairs of cats. Mothtuft looked on helplessly as she watched Wolfstar, her eyes more specifically. They shone with a savage, macabre look that couldn't be explained properly; this was her, she was in her element. The dull yellow tabby looked at the other clan representatives, seeing the shock, hatred, and confusion among them. This is why ShadowClan had this reputation, it was Wolfstar's fault, her best friend.

Wolfstar didn't always act this way, it was the warring, Mothtuft told herself, it was just the warring, once the fighting stopped, things would get better.

A sudden, sickening snapping sound silenced the clearing. Nobody moved, Clawfoot and Whitefur didn't move a muscle, freezing mid-strike.

All eyes were on Hollowstar. She looked so small, her white and tan fur nearly black from the bloodshed, her eyes were wide open, pleading almost, but they weren't bright anymore. Her neck was half-way severed and twisted at an unnatural angle that looked horribly painful. But that wasn't why everyone was staring.

She wasn't alive. StarClan hadn't brought her back.