"Who's this 'Firestar' cunt!?" Ringotingo snarled amidst the group of cats. Firedrinker meowed, "Ringo, that was hilarious, and because of that you're my new deputy." News of Firedrinker's rejection was announced as soon as the two returned from the Corpse Cavern, along with Deathstar's exposition dump. Dreadnaught took his rightful warrior place among the cats in the front shouting obscenely stupid questions. "If he was from DeathMetalClan, wouldn't we know about him already?" Gutcarver chimed in, "He's an outclanner, then?" Blasphemousheart snarled, "He must be one of those treehugger pussies." Bloodmoon was furious. "Those pretentious asshats! It wasn't enough that they ruined everything back then, now they still want to ruin our shit!?" Dragonskull snarled, "Let's just kill them. Problem solved." The crowd started chanting, "Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!"
Nightpaw stepped forward. "Perhaps we should wait. Maybe everyone will just forget about this 'Firestar' guy." Dreadnaught tensed. He liked Nightpaw. She had something more... avent garde about her. To be completely honest, he had a crush on her. She was two moons older than he, but requested holding off on her vigil so she could 'perfect her throat.' Dreadnaught wanted that throat. And Firedrinker was now staring her down as if he were going to rip it out of her. "No, the Clan is right, apprentice," he snarled. "We must end them, and their legends must die with them. Our customs were bred in envy of their existence. We must show we are better than them by outliving them." Nightpaw stepped back, retorting, "But there must be a better way. Can't we just forget about them?"
"We can't." From the shadows, a husk of a cat stepped forward, older than the rust on the highslope. "That knowledge is burned into our hearts. We cannot utter the name of folk metal without evoking them. By code, as spite from the ancient leader Rockstar."
Nightpaw's voice was a quiver. "W-What law?" Dreadnaught didn't know if she was afraid to ask, or afraid of the answer. Firedrinker responded, staring at the figure in awe. "Korpiklaani." The husk nodded. "Korpiklaani. The 'old forest clan.'"
The elder was the only one who didn't participate in the ensuing chaos. A purple haze enveloped several members of DeathMetalClan, all of them proceeding to merrily skip around in a mad polka, screaming. "AS YOU DRINK THE SOIL LIKE WINE, CRUMBS REMNANTS THE CORPSE OF MINE, YOU WILL SEE THE WORLD WITH NEW EYES. YOU WILL SEE THE WORLD WITH INSANE EYES!" The other cats couldn't help but start headbanging, or splitting into two groups to partake in their own moshing. Dividing the middle of the parted crowd sat Firedrinker and Korpiklaani.
The latter was the one who spoke first, soft and quiet, yet overbearing to the sounds of the erupting mosh. "The Gaes of Rockstar, and his contribution to the warrior code after Deathstar. The knowledge that let DeathMetalClan survive outside of the forest - that we may never forget the name of a metal band, the music fueling our emotions as we recall their greatest hits. And that name that should spark fun and celebration. But we let envy taint that sentiment, and thus keep the 'forest clan' forbidden. As if we're jealous 90s Protestant soccer moms." Firedrinker's eyes narrowed at the challenge. "I am not jealous. I am correcting a problem."
The charred cat slid down smooth, scorching surface of the highslope. Like a ghost, he walked through the brawling crowd almost intangibly. "When my Clan is ready to mobilize, we will find where these forest-dwellers are. And we will kill this 'Firestar.' And I will free us from this curse."
Dreadnaught had just finished kicking Backstriker in the stomach when he began to wonder where Warpaw had gone off to.