Every action bears consequence. None know that better than the early members of Bloodclan. Cats forced to grow up on careless streets of stone, glass and steel, fighting dogs, weasels and each other over the few food sources there are, aware that each day could easily be the last. A state of constant fear, bloodshed and hopelessness. Loners, rogues and runaway kitty-pets alike felt it day by day for countless seasons. Until he came, until for the first time things seemed to turn around for the many cats of the streets and alleys. Until the rise of Scourge. For the first time, the cats of twoleg-place were united, no longer killing each other for scraps, together strong enough to claim territory and free food sources from dogs and cruel groups of rogues. For the first time there was hope, and more yet, there was a reason for holding hope, a purpose, a future. That all used to be… now it lays shattered. After the fall of Scourge and his second-in-command Bone, their hope, their clan, was left without clear leader. Bloodclan struggled to keep order without a ruler, trying for moons to keep things going as usual. As time dragged on, it became increasingly clear that this would not last. More and more cats began to fall in behind individual warriors, each claiming the right to rule Bloodclan as it's next leader, each challenged by the others. For several moons now these cats had regularly met to discuss how „their" part of Bloodclan was faring, sizing each other up, as the inevitable fight to finally reunite the broken clan draws near.
Today is such a day and the noise of this gathering impossible to miss for many streets distance. Standing in a circle, each with a delegation of their own followers, these new leaders stand, reporting news from their shard of the territory and proclaiming their own reasons to rule Bloodclan. Six factions of the once united clan now stand here, facing each other down.
The siblings Snake and Ice, snarling and threatening, proclaim that as kin of Bone and thus the last kin of Bloodclan's former leadership still in the clan they are the natural heirs of Bloodclan and that to challenge them would be to risk one's pelt. Cruel and ill mannered, they are known for having ruthlessly attacked their own sister on a technicality, so cats know they are willing to back up their threats. Although they remain as aggressive as ever, it has not gone unnoticed to the other factions that since the migration of the forest clans, the siblings have lost followers to surrounding groups of rogues.
Their threats only cause Granite to shake his head, undeterred. This old, seasoned warrior known for being as opportunistic as he is experienced, rests his claim to leadership not on himself, but on the cat standing right behind him, his son Flame. His fire-red pelt, imposing stature and highly held head would be awe-inspiring even without his legendary reputation for being undefeated in battle. Despite being a veteran warrior, Flame's deep red collar bears fewer trophies than even most healers, in a show of how few of his opponents he deemed worth remembering. He is Bloodclan's greatest warrior and no cat would dare challenge that claim.
Further down the circle stands, in her usual silence, barely ever speaking a word, a sleek she-cat. Wraith. Were it not for her eyes, who's chilling coldness had only ever been rivalled by Scourge himself, one could have the lethal mistake of granting her quiet self less attention than the other leaders... Bloodclan's greatest huntress and masterful stalker, she often led Bloodclan's bigger hunting parties in the past, keeping the clan fed. Despite her mostly white pelt, she knows how to downright vanish in the nook and hiding space rich environment of twoleg-place like none other. A skill which's lethality she's proven many times, against prey and hostile cats alike. Now the clan is splintered and food is ever scarce, for all but her faction.
More talkative, the next tom in the circle, Kestrel prefers vague promises to threats and promises a return to greatness for Bloodclan. His speeches sound of how the clan could acquire more food, territories and safety if only he was given the chance to lead the clan. A cunning and renown schemer, his sly plans have worked often in the past whenever the clan decided to solve a problem without use of their own claws for once. Building on the success of having dealt with many rogue threats to the clan in the past, having worked out the agreement between Bloodclan and the local kitty-pets to coexist and the hopeful words he speaks now, many cats have fallen beneath the charm of his proverbial silver tongue.
Very different from that, the next cat is a towering figure, rivalling the former second-in-command Bone in his imposing appearance. Muscles almost just as clad with scars than fur, and a bellowing, authority invoking voice. Wrath is one of the clan's greatest warriors by far and when angered more than willing to showcase the reason for his name. The only thing able to keep his at times boundless fury in check is his deep sense of honour. He has grown his following of some of Bloodclan's fiercest fighters as much with his hatred for the forest clans as he has with his own prowess and desire to rebuild the clan with honour and strength. He often preaches against the forrest clans, whom he deems solely responsible for Bloodclan's decline by deceiving and killing Scourge, swearing to lead a campaign of bloody vengeance against them should be get the power to do so.
So much noise, so many threats and cats repeating what they've already stated dozens of times. Talon, the last among the six new leaders, fights back a deep sigh at this. His thoughts return to the fact that these cats are clanmates, each of these meeting only further working them up against each other now. Very soon cats that swore to protect each other will have to battle each other. He looks at his second-in-command Frost, whom listens intently to the entire spectacle. The white tom and several other long time members of the clan had started to follow Talon when the clan began to divide. Talon had advised Scourge from time to time and helped arrange the food sharing system over Bloodclan's vast territory together with Bone. Talon enjoys the idea of holding power and the position of leader is tempting indeed, he knows that he is certainly not much less qualified than the other contenders, but he has given his loyalty to this clan and his clanmates. The idea of having to fight them, and if it comes to that probably have to kill some of them, causes him great stress. Stress that spikes as he is forced to listen to these cats, these leaders, trying to threaten, intimidate and size each other up. Finally, he has enough, letting out that sigh that's been simmering for a while now and shaking his head.
„And what have you got to sigh about, Talon?"
Much to Talon's displeasure, it appears Wrath, having argued himself into a state of agitation against Granite and the siblings, takes notice. The heads turn towards the red eyed cat, now the unwilling center of attention. He shows none of his considerable displeasure at this, hiding it all behind an unfazed facade as he gives his answer, loudly and clearly.
„I have reported the state of the cats of my alley, Wrath. Leafbare preparations are ongoing and I would rather oversee them myself than continue arguing here. We'll excuse ourselves"
„You're just tired already, aren't you?" „Perhaps someone's growing soft"
Snake and Ice's voices, far too loud as always, pierce through the circle, their faces contorted into their usual overconfident grins.
„You couldn't tire me on your best day, you two. Judging by how you pulled through your last leafbare, perhaps you should do the same"
And with that, and a respectful nod to the other leaders, Talon turns and pads away from the circle, flicking his tail for his delegation to return to camp. He finds some quiet amusement in the anger in the siblings's faces as he leaves, but overall he now craves some quiet. Yet another gathering that served no real purpose beyond working the factions further up against each other. If this leafbare goes as universally poorly as last… some of them may not even have a choice but to escalate the conflict if they are to feed the cats following them. With his second-in-command Frost at his side and the rest of his delegation following behind them, Talon pads through the paved nighttime streets, under the light of the twoleg lights that shoddily illuminate the environment. He needs quiet, a moment to gather his thoughts… and there is only one place that provides that to him.