Greenkit couldn't help but gasp approaching the Steppingstone-place. There were so many cats! She was amazed all of them fit on the boulder island in the center of the lake. And she had never seen so many cats in one place! There had to be almost a hundred cats crowded on the boulder.
Feeling her fur bristle, Greenkit tried to calm herself. The Cliffland cats were not friendly felines, to say the least. Most of them were not accustomed to company, as it was. She smelled the scent of so many emotions – anxiety, surprise, and nervousness, even fear. But she also scented excitement, curiosity. The scents of so many cats created a kaliedescope of aromas. Greenkit was feeling overwhelmed.
Even Waterpaw shook with nerves, and she knew more of these cats than Greenkit could dream. Twilightfur, on the other hand, seemed to be fairly calm, considering the situation. They approached the edge of the lake cautiously, Twilightfur leading the trio. She hopped from stone to stone, which were all raised well above the waterline, considering the dry season. Greenkit knew during the wet season the lake wouldn't be so shallow, but the steppingstones were so massive that she didn't think it would cause an issue in the future.
She followed more slowly than Twilightfur and Waterpaw. The steppingstones were not nestled together, and it took a lot of strength and watchfulness to make her way to the boulder island.
The moon was shining brightly, making the water shake with silver crests. Even the stars seemed to dance on the lake. Greenkit found herself calming; she felt safe near the water. She made a particularly hefty leap, and almost slid from the stone she crash-landed on. She picked herself up, hissing, darting her head back and forth to make sure no cat had seen her. But they all seemed to be focused forward, on the boulder island.
Making one more jump, landing precariously on the edge of the boulder island, Greenkit saw why. The Nighttime cats, Twilightfur, Midnightfoot, Dawntail and Duskpelt, were all sitting upon a cluster of boulders in the center of the island, above the many cats gathered around.
It was so packed, there were cats pushed almost to the edge of the boulder island. There were so many different colored pelts before her; it looked like a spotted rainbow of cat colors. Greenkit was suddenly thankful for her small kit size. She squeezed through cats, which proved to be not as difficult as she anticipated – most of the cats were sitting at least some mouse-tails away from one another. It was almost vaguely silent – apart from the heavy breathing of many cats and a few murmors here and there, there was a nervous quietness.
Greenkit wasn't surprised by this. It was just the way of the Cliffclands. "It's a cat eat cat world," she muttered to herself, continuing to push through the cats to get closer to the boulders, remembering her mam's anxious warning. "A cat eat cat wold."
They simply didn't grow up to be friendly. Suddenly, as she approached the boulder, Greenkit was feeling uncertain, doubts crowding her mind. How could these cats sort into Clans when they didn't even know, or like one another? How could StarClan, the Tribe of Endless Something-or-another, find this to be a solution? Greenkit felt the uneasiness of the cats around her and felt it envelope her as well.
But then Midnightfoot introduced himself. "Cats of the Clifflands," he began, his voice calm, clear, and loud enough to reach all of the cats with ease. "My name is Midnightfoot. And this is Twilightfur –" Greenkit watched the she-cat meet the eyes of the cats below her with a hint of uncertainty. She wondered if Twilightfur was having the same doubts. "Duskpelt –" he hoisted himself up higher, his dark, dark eyes flickering with an emotion Greenkit couldn't label. Was it arrogance? Intense certainty? Whatever it was, she didn't find it comforting to meet his black eyes. "And Dawntail." The she-cat, which Greenkit now noticed was slightly smaller than her siblings, had the same uncertainty in her green eyes that Twilightfur seemed to have.
"We come from a far land. We understand, through the wishes of our warrior ancestors, that the Clifflands are where we needed to be."
"These warrior ancestors you speak of," a tom amongst the cats spat, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Did they mention you would be unwelcome?"
Midnightfoot did not falter, nor loose his stiff but comfortable stance, wrapping his tail around his legs. "Yes," he answered simply. "They did."
Greenkit couldn't hold back a meow of surprise. This was new information to her.
"Yet we followed the long path here anyway," Midnightfoot continued. "and wish to have the privilege of bringing you together once more."
A young gray tom with brown patches sitting quite close to Greenkit howled, "We are comfortable in our ways! Who invited you to change them?"
There were a few yowls of agreement among the crowd, but not as many as Greenkit would have expected. Most of the cats were relatively quiet. Greenkit wondered if the Nighttime cats were going to share about the Moonfly cavern, and the Tribe of Endless Hunting. But that didn't seem to be on the agenda.
Instead, Twilightfur held her head higher, her bristling black fur relaxing. She mewed without a hint of the stress she was exhibiting. "We hope you shall invite us. We are here to explain the ways of the Warrior Code, the lives of Clan cats."
There were a few protests arising, but Twilightfur yowled over them. "But what we won't be able to explain is the warmth of comraderie, the fierce pride of battling alongside your clanmates, the security of knowing you shall be cared for, in sickness, old age, and new life. We can't explain the relaxation of sharing tongues after a trying day, of knowing you shall never be cast away and alone, and the intense clarity that comes from trust in your clanmates, in your leaders, and in your ancestors – in StarClan."
There was an eerie silence that overcame the boulder island. During her speech, Twilightfur had ended up on all four paws, her tail lashing, her eyes flashing with such an intensity Greenkit knew most cats would be unable to meet her flashing green eyes. Twilightfur licked her muzzle, and slowly sat back beside Midnightfoot, who allowed the silence to sink in with Twilightfur's words before mewing again.
He began quietly, loud enough to hear from all around the boulder, she was sure, but only if the cats along the edges strained their ears. "These things, and so much more. We cannot explain the refuge or elation that comes from clan pride. As we –" he flicked his tail to his siblings. "Cannot imagine a life of lonesomeness, of fending for ourselves whilst sick, whilst old, of forcing our kits away for the sake of tradition."
A beautiful sandy-colored queen with darker brown flecks dispersed throughout her pelt pulled her two young kits closer. She wrapped a tail around them protectively, hissing as if to dare a cat to take her kits from her.
A tom directly in front of her with a sandy colored coat nodded slowly, looking up to the Nighttime cats. "Aye," he called out. "The ways of the Clifflands are flawed indeed. I shan't put words in the other cat's muzzles, but I wish to hear what ye have to share."
Greenkit shook her head in surprise. She had only heard the dialect once, when she was a very young kit. She couldn't place it, exactly, but she knew it was local – local, meaning, local to the Clifflands, but not to the times. Her mam had told her stories of ancient cats, with strange tongues, before the Clifflands came to be.
There were a few hisses, but many yowls of approval, including from the queen near Greenkit. Midnightfoot nodded once, and took advantage of the opportunity. "We wish to bring the clans to you. We wish to lead you to a brighter day, a stronger future. For the oldest cat in the Clifflands, to the youngest kit. We wish to bring you together. We wish to provide you with names, for as to strengthen our bonds."
"And you should lead us?" A tom from the other side of the boulder island hissed. "Strangers to our land?"
Greenkit winced as the young tom near her yowled his agreement. But Midnightfoot did not look abashed. His eyes didn't even flicker as he mewed after a small silence, to give the cat's question some validity. "You may all vote upon it, if you like. Could you all agree on a set of cats to lead you?"
Midnightfoot already knew the answer – it being no, of course not; few cats even knew one another, let alone would be able to come to a collective vote. Greenkit suppressed a purr and choked back a mrrow of light laughter. Why had she been worried before? Midnightfoot clearly knew what he was doing.
Looking around at the cats surrounding her on the boulder island, Greenkit suddenly caught sight of Waterpaw. She was sitting as close to the boulder as she could manage, looking up to Midnightfoot with stars in her gray eyes. Greenkit knew, begrudgingly as some may come, the cats could adapt to the life of clans. Greenkit felt her fur bristle with excitement.
The gray tom growled and cast his eyes downward, but looking around the other cats around her, Greenkit noticed their visible relaxation. Midnightfoot had somehow diminished most traces of anxiety, his words seemingly soothing, despite the topic of drastic change.
It was then he began to explain the basic ways of the Clans, much of what Greenkit had already heard from Twilightfur. But Midnightfoot had the attention of the surrounding cats. The attention grew in intensity as he spoke of StarClan, of the warrior ancestors that kept watch over them, even when they didn't know it – that StarClan had always been here, it was just a matter of being introduced to them. Midnightfoot soon had the full attention of the cats. Greenkit's fur continued to bristle with excitement and began to knead the ground. It's really happening! She thought excitedly. It's really, really happening!
"I shall lead RootClan," Midnightfoot announced. "And we shall rule the territory to the left of the boulder island, reaching from the cliffs to the pine scrub. The Snakeroot-trees shall be contained in our territory as well."
Greenkit felt a flooding of alarm. The Snakeroot-trees? But those were on the beach! How were they planning to get there? The cliffs were near impossible to climb! And if they belonged to RootClan, she wouldn't be allowed there anymore…
Greenkit glanced at Twilightfur. She held a confident pose, but Greenkit saw her struggling to hide her own alarm at the announcement. Had the Nighttime cats not discussed this beforehand?
"And I, CliffClan." Duskpelt interrupted her thoughts, without any of the growl Greenkit had come accustomed to. In fact, there was a new authority in his mew she had never noticed before. Authority, she realized. Authority was the gleam she had seen in his dark, dark eyes. A certainty to rule. "Our territory includes the Pine scrub, as well as the cliffs, to the left of the Snakeriver.
Dawntail glanced at Twilightfur, as if unsure if she was to speak next. But Twilightfur was still recovering from the shock of the loss of Snakeroot-trees. Greenkit knew she was unprepared for Midnightfoot's announcement. She was expecting to rule the Snaketroot-trees.
And rightfully so! Greenkit thought, her fur bristling again, but this time from annoyance and anger. They were on the beach!
"I shall lead FernClan." Dawntail announced softly. Soft mew or otherwise, there was still a certainty in her mew. "We shall rule the land to the right of the Snakeriver, including the Oak scrub, and the Brokencreeks."
Twilightfur suddenly snapped back into position. "And I will lead SaltClan. We will rule the beaches and the Dune scrub, as well as the Saltmarsh."
She mentioned nothing of the Snakeroot-trees, Greenkit noticed quickly. But why? She knew they were rightfully SaltClan's!
Midnightfoot nodded once toward Twilightfur, and then ended the Gathering consisely. "We do not expect you to make this decision right this moment. For those of you who already know, you may follow us back to our respective camps. All others have until tomorrow, at sun-high, to decide. You shall meet us in our prospective land: RootClan, to the left of the Snakeriver, near the Smallcliffs. CliffClan, to the left of the Snakeriver, near the Steppingstone-place. FernClan, to the right of the Snakeriver, near the Brokencreeks. And SaltClan –"
"At the bottom of the Cliffpath that leads to the beach." Twilightfur interrupted cooly. Ha! Greenkit thought to herself. Take that, Midnightfoot! We don't need you speaking for us!
Midnightfoot acted as though she hadn't interrupted, continuing equally as cool, sans SaltClan's meeting place. "We hope to see you soon."
What about the cats who decided they didn't want to become a part of the Clans, though? What would happen to them?
Greenkit shrugged the question off, waiting in anticipation as the cats began to disperse. Duskpelt leapt from the boulder first. He made no call, and left the boulder island swiftly, leaping from stone to stone. More cats than Greenkit had anticipated followed him into the darkness of the Pine scrub. Was it really working?
Dawntail left next, calling with her soft but commanding tone. "FernClan may find shelter this way." And bounded away with an assortment of cats following.
Greenkit watched as other cats leapt from the boulder island, but followed neither cat. A few wandered off by themselves, to think about it more, Greenkit assumed. Though she didn't know what there was to think about. Either they wanted to be in a Clan, or they didn't. There was no in between.
Midnightfoot and Twilightfur remained a-top the boulders, mewing in quiet, hushed tones. Twilightfur's fur was bristling, her ears flattening. Midnightfoot seemed to be mewing sternly back. Twilightfur actually hissed, and Midnightfoot bounded from the boulder. "RootClan." was all he mewed, and flicked his tail toward the steppingstones. A shocking number of cats followed his clear command, leaving the boulder island with haste.
Twilightfur settled her fur before leaping down to the remaining cats. Only a few more were slinking off into the night as loners, to think about the meeting. But a surprising amount of cats were awaiting her.
The queen that had been sitting so close to Greenkit was licking her kits hastily, her fur still bristling. She was licking them as if to ensure they were still there. But the sandy-colored tom with the old-Cliffland dialect approached her with soft, slow paws. "Would you care for some help with that, lass?"
And to Greenkit's surprise, the queen nodded, pushing over a small kit with her nose. The two picked the kits up by their necks and awaited Twilightfur's move.
Twilightfur waited for the loners to scamper off before getting ready to leave the boulder island. "The Snakeroot-trees are not in our territory right now. But we shall change that."
And with a flick of her tail, she led the remaining cats away from the remanences of the Gathering, toward the sandy hollow – toward home.