A/N: I'm really pleased with the fact that I was able to upload two chapters this month. Hopefully this makes up for the long gap of nothing. Happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.
Chapter Seven: The Gathering
"You have to tell us everything when you get back," Icepaw reminded Branchpaw and Stormpaw. "So make sure to pay attention when the leaders are speaking, but also to meet as many apprentices from the other Clans as you can."
"We will," Branchpaw meowed patiently. This was the third or fourth time that Icepaw had told him this. He and Stormpaw were waiting in camp for the rest of the group attending the Gathering to be ready. Neither of them had ever been to a Gathering; of the apprentices, only Blackpaw had gone before. And when they asked Blackpaw about it, he loftily told them some of the details, but never gave them a satisfactory amount of information. So now that some of their own were going, the three apprentices left behind were eager to get a proper report.
Branchpaw glanced at Stormpaw. He had been surprised to realize that the gray-furred apprentice was also attending the Gathering, but now he was relieved. A slight feeling of apprehension had wriggled its way into Branchpaw's chest at the thought of being the only new attendant to the Gathering, but now it was eased by Stormpaw's company. The younger tomcat had apparently impressed Rosethorn significantly with his battle skills, enough to earn himself a place at the Gathering despite his recent apprenticeship.
Graywhisker appeared beside them just then. "It's time to go," he told Branchpaw and Stormpaw. Pride lit his gaze as he looked at them, his apprentice and his son.
Excitement welling in him, Branchpaw turned to follow his mentor as the senior warrior rejoined the group. "We'll be waiting for you when you get back!" Vixenpaw called after him as he went.
He glanced over his shoulder, flicked his tail in acknowledgement, and padded forward eagerly to join the warriors. Stormpaw trotted at his side, nearly trembling with excitement.
Branchpaw met his rival's gaze from across the group. Malice glittered in Blackpaw's eyes, but the younger tom refused to let it bring him down. He waved his tail cheerfully at the older apprentice, who blinked in surprise. The brown tom felt a surge of triumph.
Nightwatcher padded up beside Branchpaw. "If your leg starts bothering you again, tell me at once," he murmured into the apprentice's ear. "I'll take you back to camp."
Nothing's going to make me go home early from my first Gathering, Branchpaw thought, but he nodded to please the medicine cat. "Okay," he meowed. "I think I'll be fine, though. I rested all day yesterday. There really isn't any reason to worry about me."
Nightwatcher gave him a sharp look. "I'm the medicine cat," he said. "I'll tell you when there's no need to worry."
Whatever you say. "Right," the apprentice mewed. "I'm sorry."
Nightwatcher looked almost amused. "Good." He padded away, dissolving into the night as quickly as he had come.
Branchpaw watched him go for a moment, then raised his head to scan the crowd of warriors chosen to attend the Gathering. Graywhisker, Ravenflight, Pineclaw, Rosethorn, Honeyflame, Sandfoot. To his disappointment, his father was not among them. He had wanted Tigerfang to be there to witness his first Gathering. But at least Gingerpelt is coming, he reminded himself. His mother's pride was definitely worth a lot, even if it was much easier to earn than his father's.
Gingerpelt was standing nearby with Rainwater, who was also attending the Gathering. The gray she-cat might have been old, but she insisted that she still had enough energy in her to make it to Fourtrees. I'll probably be like that when I'm an elder. His whiskers quivered with amusement.
Stormpaw was shifting from one paw to the other beside him, wriggling and squirming like a pile of worms. "What's wrong?" Branchpaw asked, leaning toward him to speak quietly in his ear. The gray apprentice was usually very calm; this sudden fidgeting wasn't like him. "Do you have ants in your pelt?"
"No, it's not that. I'm just worried that I'm going to do something wrong," the younger tom squeaked.
"You won't," Branchpaw assured him, although uneasiness began to churn in his stomach at his friend's words. What if I do something wrong? I'll look like an idiot in front of everyone! "We don't have to do anything besides be there and not fight. I don't think we do, anyway," he added. Thanks, Blackpaw, for never telling us anything, he thought sourly.
Stormpaw perked up a bit. "If we had to do something, I'm sure our mentors would have told us about it," he meowed, sounding a little more confident now.
The older apprentice felt relief course through him. "You're right," he agreed. Graywhisker would never let him walk into anything unprepared.
"ThunderClan, let us depart for the Gathering!" Falconstar's announcement rang loud and clear through the still night air. He summoned his warriors with a sweeping gesture of his tail. Hazelclaw padded forward to flank him on one side, glowing like a star in the moonlight, and Nightwatcher seemed to form out of the shadows on the other. All the other warriors gathered behind the three cats. All of Branchpaw's nervousness was banished by a wave of excitement. Exchanging thrilled glances, he and Stormpaw joined the warriors.
The Clan set off through the forest. It was a beautiful place to be at night; shafts of silver moonlight poured down through the trees, which were painted black and gray by the darkness. It was almost as though all the plants had been turned to stone. The twisting branches threw a fantastic display of shadows onto the forest floor.
After the camp was out of sight, Falconstar picked up his pace, beginning to lope. Hazelclaw and Nightwatcher bounded by his side, and the warriors all broke into a run behind them. Their anticipation was contagious. Branchpaw increased his speed, sensing Stormpaw do the same beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Blackpaw running on his other side, a few fox-lengths away, his ebony pelt blending into the darkness so that all that was visible were his eyes.
It was impossible to tell how long they were running before Fourtrees came into sight. It could have been hours, or possibly only a few heartbeats. The leading warriors let out yowls of excitement, making Branchpaw crane his neck to see over their heads.
"I see it! We're almost to Fourtrees!" Stormpaw meowed excitedly.
Branchpaw moved closer to him, peering around Rosethorn's shoulder. His heart skipped a beat. He'd seen Fourtrees before, but never at night, with the full moon shining high above in the dark sky. The place somehow seemed far more majestic now than it ever did during the day.
"I can't wait to talk to cats from other Clans," Stormpaw mewed happily. "This is going to be so much fun!"
"I know," Branchpaw replied, purring.
Falconstar led the way into the clearing. He bounded straight to the center, where the Great Rock stood. It was a massive, pale gray stone with a flat top, where three other cats were already standing, the moon behind them stretching their shadows out across the crowd of warriors in front of them. Silhouetted against the sky, it was hard to tell what colors they were. In fact, they were so still that they looked more like shadows themselves than living cats.
Falconstar crouched for a moment in front of the rock, then sprang. His claws scrabbled against the stone as he hauled himself up to join the other leaders.
ThunderClan spread out among the other Clans, greeting friends and rivals. Branchpaw gazed around, stunned by all the unfamiliar sights and scents. Stormpaw crouched warily at his side, looking around with wide green eyes.
Rosethorn padded up to join them. "Will the two of you be all right on your own?" she asked, eying her apprentice and the older tom with concern. "I'll stay with you if you need me to." Her offer was clearly sincere, but Branchpaw could tell by the way she glanced briefly over her shoulder that there were other cats she wanted to see. Her tail twitched slightly with impatience, though she didn't seem to be aware of the action herself.
Stormpaw glanced up at his companion, seeming uncertain. He's leaving the decision up to me, Branchpaw thought. The mottled brown apprentice followed Rosethorn's gaze. She was looking in the direction of a group of five cats, which he identified as a mix of ShadowClan and WindClan by their scents. Part of him itched with curiosity, wondering who they were, but another part of him was intimidated by the sight of them. There was a massive gray tom, a smaller ginger tomcat, two black-and-white she-cats, and long-furred white tom whose pelt looked almost hazy, like a cloud. They certainly seemed like an interesting group, but most of them looked like senior warriors, not exactly the first cats he wanted to speak to at his first Gathering. He was sure he would say something stupid, or give away a Clan secret by accident.
"We'll be okay," he told Rosethorn. "We'll stick together the whole time."
Relief flickered in the young warrior's eyes. "All right, then," she meowed. "If change your mind, or if you need anything, you can find me over there." She angled her ears toward the group of ShadowClan and WindClan warriors. "And Graywhisker will probably be talking with Hazelclaw and the other deputies, if you're looking for him. Have fun," she added kindly, flicking her tail over Stormpaw's ears before padding off to join her friends.
The apprentices stood in silence for a few moments, lost in thought. Finally, Branchpaw spoke. "Do you want to see if we can find any other apprentices to talk with?" he asked.
Stormpaw nodded. "Sure," he mewed. "Should we invite Blackpaw to join us?"
Branchpaw glanced around the clearing, looking for his rival. He spotted the black tom off to one side, speaking with a crowd of other apprentices. "It looks like he's beaten us to it," he remarked. "Do you want to go join him?"
"Okay," the gray tom agreed.
They made their way over to the group of apprentices. As they approached, Blackpaw turned and caught sight of them. He narrowed his eyes coldly.
"Hi," Stormpaw meowed as they came to a stop next to the group, his tone friendly despite Blackpaw's obvious lack of welcome.
There was a moment's pause as the five unfamiliar apprentices silently eyed them. Branchpaw began to feel a bit nervous. Truce or not, they were greatly outnumbered by cats from rival Clans. He tried not to appear too afraid.
"Hello," a dusky brown she-cat meowed at last. She had unusually spiky fur running down her spine and yellow eyes. "ThunderClan cats, aren't you? Blackpaw's friends?"
"Not really," Blackpaw meowed, shooting them an unfriendly look.
"Probably can't stand him," snickered a black-and-white she-cat, her amber eyes gleaming.
"Ha!" laughed the gray-and-white tom next to her. His entire pelt was sticking all over the place, in about seven different directions, and his eyes had a wild gleam in them. "Birdpaw has a point," he meowed. "Blackpaw is sort of cold and rude all the time, and he's not even in ShadowClan. I don't know why you always accuse us of being dark-hearted. Just look at your Clanmate."
"He's not so bad," Stormpaw said mildly.
"Optimistic little thing, aren't you?" said the brown she-cat. "What's your name?"
"Stormpaw," he meowed.
"Hmm. Well, it's nice to meet you, Stormpaw," she replied. "My name is Thornpaw, for obvious reasons." She rolled her eyes at her bristly spine and tail. "The rude WindClan cat is Birdpaw, and that gray-and-white tom over there is Rufflepaw. He's my littermate; I guess untidy fur runs in the family." She turned to face a ginger tom standing beside her. "Our Clanmate is Rowanpaw. And the gray tabby is Fastpaw." She nodded at the cat standing across from her in the circle. "And what about your Clanmate?" she asked, turning back to face the youngest apprentice expectantly.
"I'm Branchpaw," the brown tom meowed, before Stormpaw could speak. He didn't know why, but the idea of being introduced to the group by someone else made his fur prickle.
"Pleased to meet you," Thornpaw meowed. Rufflepaw and Birdpaw murmured their agreement. Rowanpaw and Fastpaw, however, didn't.
"If Blackpaw thinks you're annoying furballs, then I'll probably agree," said Rowanpaw, narrowing his eyes. "So to say I'm pleased to meet you would be a lie."
Fastpaw gave a mrrow of cold laughter, his eyes glittering malevolently. "I don't even have to say anything," he meowed. "Rowanpaw said it all for me."
Branchpaw bristled indignantly. Rowanpaw's words stung, and his companion's jibe had only made it worse. Who do these cats think they are? he thought furiously. "Of course you would say that," he growled, covering up his hurt with a taunt of his own. "You're WindClan; that means you're weak. You have to rely on someone else for everything, even to say what you think. There's no way you would have the courage to stand up to me on your own."
Fastpaw's eyes widened with surprise; the ThunderClan apprentice knew he hadn't been expecting such a strong comeback. Rufflepaw let out a mocking yowl.
Rowanpaw glared at his Clanmate. "Shut up," the ginger tom hissed under his breath.
Branchpaw raised his chin confidently. I'll teach you to mess with me.
Thornpaw eyed him with new respect. "Well," she mewed. "You certainly know how to make a cat angry."
Blackpaw's tail twitched irritably, but he didn't say anything.
"You can help me taunt those mouse-brains, as long as you don't take my job away from me," said Birdpaw, nudging the brown apprentice in a friendly manner. She was a small cat; her head only came up to Branchpaw's shoulder. But her muscles were surprisingly firm under her thin pelt. "I'm the cat with the biggest mouth in the group. I have a reputation to uphold."
The other apprentices laughed. Branchpaw purred, too, but he was hardly paying attention to what the black-and-white cat was saying. He was too busy reflecting on an interesting observation. Rowanpaw, Thornpaw, and Rufflepaw are ShadowClan, while Birdpaw and Fastpaw are WindClan, he mused. But Rowanpaw and Fastpaw seem closer with each other than they are with their Clanmates, and Rufflepaw doesn't seem to pick sides. He appreciates a good joke, regardless of who says it and who it's making fun of. And Thornpaw really isn't what I'd expect from ShadowClan. She looks a lot more menacing than she acts, and she's actually quite friendly.
The ThunderClan apprentice eyed the brown she-cat's claws. They were so long that the tips stuck out of their sheathes. But even if she seems nice now, she's probably a dangerous adversary on the battlefield, he thought ruefully.
A glow of pride went through Branchpaw as he became aware of what he was doing. I'm learning from meeting my enemies, he realized. And that's what the Gathering is all about. He glanced at Blackpaw, whose eyes were dark with resentment. I wonder if that's something that Blackpaw knows.
"Where are all the RiverClan apprentices?" Stormpaw was asking as his Clanmate focused on the conversation again. The younger tom was standing on his toes to see over the others' heads, peering around the throng of cats. "I don't think I've seen any of them yet."
"That's because there aren't any of them here," Birdpaw meowed.
"Not one?" Stormpaw asked, clearly surprised.
"RiverClan is rather lacking in apprentices," Thornpaw explained. "They only have three at the moment, and we only really know one of them."
"You're one to talk," Birdpaw scoffed. "ShadowClan only has one more than that," she added to the ThunderClan cats.
"Really?" Branchpaw asked, taken aback. ShadowClan, he had always been told, was the most dangerous of the other Clans. It was hard to believe that they had such a small number of apprentices.
"That may be true, but we're the strongest of the bunch," Rowanpaw said, sounding defensive. His hackles were raised slightly. "ShadowClan isn't weak in any way."
"You seem awfully keen to make us believe that," meowed Birdpaw, eyeing him interestedly. "How do we know we can trust you?"
"We can't," Blackpaw said haughtily, licking one paw and drawing it over his ears in a display of indifference. "He's ShadowClan."
The ginger tom twitched one ear warily, as though he wasn't sure whether the black apprentice was trying to insult him or not. But before he could come to a decision, a yowl split the night air. "Let the Clans gather!"
"Tornstar is starting the Gathering!" Thornpaw meowed to the younger apprentices, her ears perked in anticipation. Her wide yellow eyes were fixed on a massive black tom on the Great Rock.
"That's our leader," Rowanpaw meowed, with an air of importance.
Stormpaw looked up at the ShadowClan apprentice, clearly impressed. Rowanpaw licked his chest fur, looking pleased.
Show-off, Branchpaw thought, suppressing a wave of irritation. Behind that feeling was something else that he couldn't place. Whatever it was prickled at his stomach and fueled his annoyance. Don't get into a fight at the Gathering, he reminded himself, trying to make the fur along his spine lie flat. The action soon proved to be more difficult than he'd thought it would be.
"Your fur is bristling," Stormpaw whispered, not very quietly, into the older apprentice's ear. "It looks like you're going to attack someone."
"I know!" Branchpaw hissed, losing his patience. "Can't you see I'm trying to fix it?"
Stormpaw flinched. Branchpaw could see in his eyes that the younger tom's feelings were hurt. Feeling a pang of guilt, he muttered, "Sorry."
"Shh," Birdpaw mewed crossly, flicking her tail in his face. "I can't pay attention with you twittering like sparrows behind me."
"Sorry," Stormpaw apologized, shifting his paws in embarrassment.
Branchpaw was less inclined to listen to her. "You're not the boss of me," he muttered.
Birdpaw twitched her ears, but said nothing in reply.
Luckily for Branchpaw, the murmuring of the crowd was only now dying down; Tornstar had not yet begun to speak, and so the apprentice had not missed anything important. The ThunderClan tom tilted his head up to get a better look at ShadowClan's leader. As he had observed before, Tornstar was a particularly large black tomcat, with a muscular body and a sleek pelt. His amber eyes smoldered like twin flames in the darkness. Next to a small brown she-cat that Branchpaw guessed was WindClan's leader, Tornstar looked menacing, like a hulking monster.
"ShadowClan has had a prosperous moon," Tornstar announced, his voice clear and loud in the silence. "Prey has been plentiful and our herbs have been growing well. Best of all, Hollownight has given birth to four kits: Shadekit, Owlkit, Beekit, and Bristlekit!"
Murmurs of congratulations rippled through the crowd. Cats that Branchpaw thought must belong to ShadowClan cheered the queen's name. "Hollownight! Hollownight!"
"Between the efforts of our well-trained warriors, and our skilled medicine cat," Tornstar paused to dip his head to a tortoiseshell cat sitting at the base of the Great Rock, "we hope to expect another successful moon."
ShadowClan's leader stepped back, flicking his tail at the light brown she-cat next to him. "Would you like to speak next, Doestar?" he asked politely.
The warrior-queen gave a slight nod, then stepped forward to take his place, looking small and dainty in comparison to the black tomcat. "WindClan, too, has been successful," she meowed. Her voice was full of quiet authority, making her seem just as formidable as Tornstar, despite her size. "Hunting has been excellent on the moorlands. In addition, our territory has been expanded, thanks to the prowess of our warriors."
The WindClan cats cheered, including Birdpaw and Fastpaw. Branchpaw eyed them warily. Whose territory did they take? he wondered. The ThunderClan tom let his gaze travel over the throng of cats. Judging by the passive expressions of the ShadowClan cats and Tornstar's report, it couldn't be ShadowClan's. Was it RiverClan's land, or did WindClan simply expand outward?
Doestar stepped back, inclining her head to Falconstar as a sign that he should take her place. The gray tabby took a pace forward, looking down regally over the crowd. Branchpaw felt a rush of admiration for his leader.
"ThunderClan has also been doing well this moon," Falconstar meowed. "We have appointed two new apprentices, Stormpaw and Icepaw. Icepaw is not here tonight, but Stormpaw is." He nodded to the small gray tom.
"Stormpaw! Icepaw!" cheered the crowd. Branchpaw turned to look at his companion, yowling his name. Stormpaw's ears were half-flattened in embarrassment, but his eyes were alight with happiness.
Rufflepaw gave the new ThunderClan apprentice a friendly nudge that almost knocked him off his paws. Birdpaw flicked her tail in acknowledgement, and Thornpaw gave him a nod. Rowanpaw and Fastpaw simply glanced at him, but at least it was something. Ironically, Blackpaw was the only one who didn't acknowledge him.
"In addition," continued Falconstar, once the murmurs had died down, "one of our already appointed apprentices has proved himself as an honorable member of ThunderClan. While hunting at Snakerocks, Branchpaw captured and killed an adder. His hunting skills are an asset to the Clan."
Branchpaw's heart skipped a beat. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Is this real? Is this actually happening? There was no way that his leader could be praising him in front of the entire Gathering. Could he? The apprentices around the mottled brown tom turned to look at him in shock. The crowd was completely silent.
"Branchpaw!" a voice suddenly yowled. Craning his neck to see who the speaker was, Branchpaw spotted Gingerpelt standing near the base of the Great Rock, her eyes shining with happiness and pride. "Branchpaw!" she called again.
An impressed murmur broke out among the crowd of cats, accompanied by cheers from the ThunderClan cats. Stormpaw looked up at Branchpaw, his face full of admiration. Branchpaw felt thoroughly embarrassed, but some part of him deep inside was loving the attention. And all of him was loving the expressions on the other apprentices' faces. All five of his new acquaintances looked equally stunned. He fought back a purr of laughter.
As quickly as the attention of the Gathering had come upon the young tom, it was gone. Falconstar proceeded on to the rest of his report. "ThunderClan is strong, and we will not tolerate any trespassing," he meowed. "The other Clans would do well to remember that."
The cats began to whisper excitedly among themselves, clearly gossiping about the leader's pointed words. Branchpaw turned his attention to Tornstar, knowing that Falconstar was alluding to the recent ShadowClan scents found on ThunderClan's side of the border, but if the black tom was guilty, he wasn't showing it. His head was tilted to one side in a look of interest, but there was no sign of either fear or remorse in his countenance.
Falconstar nodded to the last cat on the Great Rock, RiverClan's leader, and stepped back to join Doestar and Tornstar. The last leader to speak was a gruff-looking gray tom with slightly darker fur on his face and paws. He looked rather old, but in a regal sort of way, and radiated an air of great dignity.
"RiverClan, like the rest, has experienced a moon of prosperity and good fortune," he meowed. Despite his age, his voice carried clear and strong across the clearing. "Prey has been plentiful this moon, and the rivers have remained swift. There has been no problem with drought for our Clan. I hope that there have been no shortages of water for any of your Clans either." He acknowledged the other leaders with a polite nod.
"However," he continued. "We have had problems retaining the peace that has existed between the Clans for the past few seasons. The fault does not lie with RiverClan, but with its neighbors. WindClan cats have been trespassing on our territory, and even attempting to claim parts of our land as their own." He turned to Doestar with an icy stare. "Do you have something to say in defense of yourself? Or has WindClan deteriorated into a bunch of tricksters and thieves?"
Indignant yowls rose from the WindClan cats. In front of Branchpaw, Birdpaw was bristling, her hackles rising and her ears flattening. Fastpaw growled softly somewhere off to the left.
Thornpaw met Branchpaw's eyes and shrugged. "Good thing Turtlepaw didn't come tonight," she meowed. "She's the RiverClan apprentice we know. There would have been some… choice words exchanged between her and the WindClan duo. All of us can be really touchy when it comes to our Clans."
"WindClan does not have to justify itself to RiverClan," Doestar was meowing haughtily up on the Great Rock. "If we are powerful enough to take your territory, then we deserve it. We won it fairly."
"Simply because you have the power to take something doesn't mean you should," RiverClan's leader argued. "If WindClan has been so prosperous in recent moons, what need could you possibly have for RiverClan's territory?"
"Pikestar has a point," Falconstar murmured, turning to address WindClan's leader. "Must you really cause conflict among the Clans when there is no real need to do so?"
"WindClan does not have to keep the peace that has been held among the Clans if it does not wish to," Tornstar meowed, seeming entertained. "If it wants war, then give it war. It's that simple."
"And it isn't your business," Pikestar growled. "You belong to neither RiverClan nor WindClan. It's that simple."
The crowd broke out into a riot of noise. Some ShadowClan cats were yowling angrily in defense of their leader, while many RiverClan warriors were calling out their agreement with Pikestar's words. A few cats from WindClan and ThunderClan even seemed amused.
As the throng of cats quarreled, and the leaders began to confront one another with sharp words and bristling fur, Branchpaw noticed that it was getting darker in the clearing. Clouds had rolled in and covered the moon, blocking out its silver light with a murky veil.
Beside him, Stormpaw shivered. "Does it suddenly seem colder to you?" the younger apprentice asked.
Branchpaw felt a chill go down his spine as a cool breeze parted the fur on his back. "A little," he replied, fluffing out his coat to keep himself warm.
"Cats of all Clans!" a voice called out loudly over the din. Glancing around for the source of the noise, Branchpaw saw that Nightwatcher had risen to his paws. The other medicine cats around him looked rather ruffled. "This is hardly the place to bicker like kits," the black cat meowed, matching the growing formality of the leaders with cold politeness of his own. "We come to Gatherings only once a moon to meet in peace. Can we not remain civil for one night?"
"Thank you, Nightwatcher," Falconstar said, nodding to his medicine cat. Of all the leaders, only he had not involved himself in the increasingly heated debate atop the Great Rock. The gray tabby and the dark-furred tom shared a significant look that left Branchpaw feeling puzzled. What was that about? he wondered.
As the noise of the crowd subsided, Falconstar turned to the other leaders, forcing Branchpaw to abandon his pondering in order to pay attention. "Can we continue our reports in a courteous manner, or would attempting to resume a peaceful Gathering be a waste of time?"
"I see no point," Pikestar said stiffly. "I am the last to speak, and I have nothing more to say."
"I think we should disband until the next full moon," said Doestar, lifting her chin in a stately gesture. "Pikestar clearly wants nothing more to do with the rest of us."
Tornstar dipped his head in assent. "If that is what you all wish," he meowed smoothly.
"Then let the Gathering be disbanded," Falconstar declared, jumping down from the Great Rock. The cats in the crowd all began to make their way toward their respective leaders. Branchpaw took a step in Falconstar's direction, then hesitated. He turned to the apprentices he had met at the Gathering. "It was nice meeting you," he meowed.
Thornpaw nodded. "You too," she replied.
"Hope to see you next time," Birdpaw added.
Rowanpaw scowled. "The next time we meet at a Gathering, I challenge you to a contest of some sort," he meowed. "I'll prove to you that ShadowClan is better than ThunderClan any day."
I never could resist a challenge, Branchpaw thought. "All right," he said aloud. "I look forward to beating you." With a nod to Rufflepaw and a flick of his tail at Fastpaw, the ThunderClan tom walked away.
Stormpaw bounded after him. "That was fun," he meowed. "Even with the fight at the end." Branchpaw could tell from his tone that he had secretly enjoyed the conflict, because it gave them something exciting to tell the apprentices back at camp.
"Yeah," the older tom agreed, feeling cheerful in spite of the tense atmosphere. "It was."
Stormpaw suddenly pricked his ears. "There's my father!" he mewed, his eyes glowing. "I want to go tell him about the Gathering. See you later!" He sprinted forward eagerly to meet Graywhisker.
Branchpaw watched him go, amused by his enthusiasm. A second later, the brown tom saw something dark flash by out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to find Blackpaw standing beside him.
The older apprentice's eyes gleamed with such fury that it made Branchpaw's stomach lurch. "Why did you have to make me look like a fool in front of my friends?" the black cat hissed. "You ruin everything!"
Branchpaw was shocked. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Blackpaw barged past him, shouldering him aside with such force that he staggered, a slight twinge going through his previously injured leg. He whirled around to face Blackpaw, but his Clanmate had already disappeared into the throng of cats headed toward Falconstar.
Branchpaw gingerly tested his leg, hoping that it hadn't been reinjured when Blackpaw had jostled him. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be hurt in any way. He could put his full weight on it without feeling any pain. But even if he wasn't physically hurt, his mood had been dampened considerably by the encounter. He slowly made his way toward the gathering ThunderClan cats.
As they set out for the camp, Branchpaw fell in beside his mother. Gingerpelt was mainly silent as they walked, clearly lost in thought, but her presence was still comforting.
After a few moments, Gingerpelt spoke. Her voice broke the silence so suddenly that Branchpaw jumped. "How was the Gathering?" she asked.
"It was fun," the apprentice replied. "I met a few cats from ShadowClan and WindClan. They were… interesting, to say the least."
Gingerpelt's eyes shone with warmth and amusement. "From my experiences, I've found that cats from other Clans can be quite interesting. They live the same lifestyle as we do, but they all have their differences."
"I noticed that they had a different way of speaking than we do," Branchpaw meowed. "It wasn't really all that obvious, but little phrases that they used seemed odd to me."
"Yes," his mother mused. "It's the little things that make us different."
She seemed unusually quiet, even for her. "Are you all right?" he asked.
She blinked, as though brought back to reality, and purred softly in reassurance. "I'm fine," she mewed. "Just tired. The Gathering is so loud and chaotic that everything feels awfully quiet afterward." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't you notice it?"
Branchpaw thought about it. Now that she'd mentioned it, he did feel sort of tired. His jaws parted in an enormous yawn. "Yeah, you're definitely right."
Gingerpelt laughed gently. "I'm sure we'll all be glad to get back to our nests tonight."
There was a lull between them for a few moments.
"Gingerpelt?" Branchpaw finally meowed.
"Yes, dearest?"
"Thank you for cheering for me," he said, turning to look at her face. "When Falconstar acknowledged me, I mean."
His mother gazed at him, her eyes full of affection. "You're welcome, Branchpaw," she meowed. She brushed his shoulder lightly with her tail-tip. "You're my kitten. Of course I'd cheer for you." Her voice was warm, with a tinge of pride.
Branchpaw closed his eyes, drinking in her love and attention. Falconstar's announcement had made his heart soar with joy, but the happiness that Gingerpelt's pride made him feel was different. It was warm, gentle, and peaceful. Not quite as exhilarating as flying, but somehow much, much better.