Twelve
Firepaw peered over the crest of a green slope whose ferns scraped against his pelt. Greypaw and Ravenpaw stood alert beside him and behind them lay a patrol of elders, queens, and warriors.
He hadn't seen this place since his very first patrol of the territory and he was honestly pretty stunned at how different the steep-sided glade looked. The rich greenness of the woods had been bleached away by the cold light of the full moon, and the leaves on the trees glowed silver. At the bottom stood the large oaks that marked where the corner of each Clan's territory touched the other three.
The air was thick with the warm scents of cats from the other Clans. Firepaw could easily pick out various shapes in the moonlight, moving about below in the grassy clearing that lay between the four oaks. In the center of the clearing a large, jagged rock rose from the forest floor like a broken tooth.
As Firepaw took in the environment around him, he noted that every other cat, like himself, crouched with bated breath as Bluestar rose to her paws and flicked her tail in a wide half-circle from left to right. The small crowd moved as one and Firepaw found himself swept up by the older cats who were more eager than usual to join this moon's Gathering.
After all, this was the first Gathering that Firepaw was able to attend since he got here. This would be his first time interacting with a large group of cats from another Clan. As the cats settled down to greet their counterparts and share the news each had, Firepaw found himself staring up at the leader's rock.
Stormstar met his eyes briefly and dipped his head. The only other leader was a brown tabby a few shades lighter than Tigerclaw and a few darker than Dustpaw. His stripes were a different pattern than either of them, his fur swept the ground around him, and his face was broad and flattened.
"Brokenstar." Bluestar's breath whistled through his ears and he twitched them to better hear what she was saying. Surely this cat's name wasn't literally the word Broken. It had to be a trick or a nickname. His entire Clan couldn't possibly be that cruel.
"According to rumor, he was renamed at his leader ceremony and his previous name was Marshstep or Snakefoot."
"And what do you think?" Whitestorm questioned from somewhere above Firepaw.
"I think this is one of the few times I'll indulge in a rumor because the alternative is far too cruel." Bluestar murmured bitterly. "But it's as the medicine cat says, StarClan has deemed him Brokenstar."
Bluestar brushed past Firepaw, pressing against him a little in a move that usually reassured him. This time Firepaw was a bit too nervous to take comfort in it.
Everything about this Brokenstar cat made his pelt stand on end, and that was before he factored in the sheer amount of cats here, living and dead. It took all of Firepaw's ghost practice to ground himself and close his eyes. Slowly, he attempted to focus on only the living and then only the dead. There were… equal amounts of each, surprisingly, and he couldn't quite pick out why.
The crowd was large enough and he supposed that cats didn't really give up their habits when they died. If the ghost cats wanted to go to the Gathering, there was no leader to tell them otherwise. After all, Thrushpelt and Redtail came.
"Why don't we sit with the medicine cats for now?" Longtail offered in a low and steady voice.
Firepaw nodded and followed the cream tom, making sure to keep at least his tail in sight even if he got lost in the crowd. Somehow he managed to see Dappletail, Whitepelt, and Silverear sitting with cats and ghosts who were likely elders from other Clans. Whitestorm had dragged Lionheart to speak with some warriors with Greypaw in tow. Eventually they broke free of the main crush of cats and found a smaller group to sit with, among them Spottedleaf and Ravenpaw. The black tom stood up to greet him and introduced his fellow healers.
Sleetstep, called Runningnose seriously by cats who didn't know how he got the name, was enthralling a group of warriors and queens with tales of various herbs that no longer existed. Mudfur dipped his head in acknowledgement and murmured a brief greeting. The WindClan medicine cat, much like their leader, was nowhere to be seen.
"That Tigerclaw sure does get a lot wrong." Said one ghost not too far from where Firepaw sat.
Tell me about it. Firepaw grumbled. The ghost, a solid back molly with silver-blue eyes, whipped around to face him.
"You can see me?!"
Yes. I'm Firepaw and I currently live in ThunderClan. What's your name?
"Slatestep of RiverClan. I died pretty recently so Oakheart hasn't been able to tell me much. I probably shouldn't have come here tonight since it hasn't been long but I just couldn't-..." The black molly cut herself off as she broke into sobs.
I understand. Firepaw murmured. Cats don't have to change their habits just because they're no longer alive. As you can see, there are plenty of ghosts here. Almost as many as there are living cats.
"And you can see us all…" The black molly whispered. "That's amazing!"
If you don't mind me asking, what were you saying about Tigerclaw?
"That he's getting the battle wrong, of course. Oakheart died in a rock slide and everyone retreated after that."
You're right. But how do you know that?
"I was one of the warriors he fought." She confirmed. "Thing is, I'm pretty sure he's telling this lie for a reason. He might want to retake Sunningrocks for himself and paint RiverClan in a bad light but there's a whole Clan who knows that he didn't do what he said he did."
"If only it were that simple." Redtail deadpanned. "Good evening, Slatestep. My condolences for the loss of your mortal form and welcome to the in-between state. Firepaw, here, is our only connection to the living so we do our best to keep him as happy and healthy as possible."
Slatestep eyed Firepaw doubtfully and the ginger tom rolled his eyes.
A ghost possessed me and made me fight another cat. This was the result. Pass it on and maybe everyone will quit staring. And let me have my space.
"Maybe." Slatestep offered before she took off. Redtail easily replaced the spot she occupied, not minding at all how close he was to brushing against several living cats at once.
Firepaw listened as Lionheart and Greypaw chatted with a small ShadowClan apprentice who looked very much like they wished to be anywhere but at a Gathering. Firepaw could empathize. Now that he'd been to one, all he wanted to do was go home, curl up into a ball, and bury his head in his fur.
A tail tapped his shoulder and Firepaw saw black fur when he turned around. Ravenpaw was offering his side as a substitute, something that Firepaw took gladly. He adjusted himself so he was laying on the flattened grass and buried his face in the black tom's side, wishing he could squeeze his ears shut as well as his eyes.
Firepaw woke to howls of outrage what felt like heartbeats later and the first thing he saw was that Brokenstar was front and center on the rock despite Stormstar being the biggest cat up there.
There were still no WindClan cats but now everyone was wondering why and no one wanted the Gathering to go on until they got a proper answer. Brokenstar was determined to say his piece and that, along with what he actually had to say, sent the crowd over the edge.
"We have never shared hunting rights before!" Tigerclaw snarled. Firepaw snorted.
Sure, murder is fine but he draws the line at sharing his food with another Clan. Oh the horror. Fox-brained mouse-hearted Tigerclaw.
The argument that ensued was more of Brokenstar making a speech about the needs of ShadowClan and perhaps protecting the other Clans and that they would definitely be driven out when they refused to cooperate, just like WindClan had.
Silence reigned. Absolute all-encompassing silence as every cat took in just what this fox-hearted cat was admitting to.
So… it appears that the source of the StarClan problem has been found. This leader had to go. And, it appeared, Stormstar and Bluestar were in agreement about that one thing.
"I do believe, my fellow Clanmates, that we have found the clumsy scoundrels responsible for stealing our prey." Stormstar's twisted jaw made him look absolutely lethal, and Brokenstar stumbled when the larger brown tabby stepped forward to take his place.
"Cats of all Clans, your respective leaders shall do what they wish, but RiverClan has made no such agreement. Any attempts to gain access to our land without permission will be met with hostility, and that's if you don't drown first." He purred darkly. "Brokenstar endangers his Clan at his own will, but I expect Bluestar to be more sensible."
"As you are right to." The ThunderClan leader meowed gratefully. "Since we obviously need time to gather our thoughts on this new development, we shall reconvene at the next full moon. Hopefully with happier news."
"I should warn you all that our former medicine cat has turned rogue and may be lurking in your territory. She allowed a multitude of our young kits to die these past few seasons." Brokenstar growled. "So beware."
ShadowClan left at a tail-flick from the deputy. Brokenstar glared at the Clans one last time before joining them.
"Well, clearly that didn't go his way." Ravenpaw joked weakly.
Doesn't mean it's over. Firepaw wanted to say.
He's going to come back. Firepaw wanted to say.
He's definitely part of the problem! Firepaw wanted to say.
What the everliving fuck is wrong with ShadowClan?! Firepaw wanted to say.
The ginger tom had never wished he could speak so much before this moment. He settled for digging gouges into the ground and snarling wordlessly into Ravenpaw's fur.
This. Was. Fox-dung. All of it. And to top it all off, ThunderClan was whipped into a frenzy because Brokenstar was a giant load of mouse droppings and said that his medicine cat had gone rogue. Firepaw had no clue what that meant but he knew it was serious to accuse a healer of wrongdoing and Brokenstar did not help his case by being aggressive and a Rat's Dirthole about his previous requests. Brokenstar could go drown for all Firepaw cared but he better not have done anything to Yellowfang!