Faustian | warrior cats

vii | the gathering

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THE nights for Gatherings were the nights Larkmoon would always remember. The unfamiliarity of the unknown cats gave her a strange sense of familiarity; that she was indeed mortal with other beings. The noise was unlike any other, being accustomed to the sense of silence, Larkmoon always found the voices of conversation alluring. The voices of the cats from different clans rattled up through the trees, greetings of "hellos" from friends and bickering from enemies all entrenched the forest with life.

The color too was remarkable. As entering from the back of Four Trees, all Larkmoon could see ahead were different patterned pelts. Scanning the area, her eyes were filled with tiger-striped tabbies and cheetah-spotted tortoiseshells, there were dark ShadowClan coats and vibrant RiverClan coats. No cat carried the same color. An assortment of bright eyes accompanied the pelts like lovers, married together with perfect iridescence.

"Can I stay beside you tonight?" Hollowhawk's voice fluttered in her ear like the delicate wings of a butterfly. He was always so gentle, he continued, "Webstar and I are afraid ShadowClan might try something." The softness of his voice and the meaning of his words were nothing alike- they fell from his tongue like night and day.

Something? A shiver grabbed Larkmoon by the spine with cold hands. She stared deeply into Hollowhawk's yellow eyes, wishing she could melt the fear frozen within them. "I don't think they would do that," The tabby tried to reassure.

Hollowhawk's mouth opened to respond, however, he was interrupted by a strident hiss, "Shh!" The two ThunderClan cats had failed to notice that the four leaders were in their places, perching proudly along the branches of the trees. Everyone seemed to take heed at a similar time and it wasn't long before the gathering fell to silence.

Larkmoon removed her glistering eyes from her companion and placed them towards the cats of the stars. She couldn't help but think of Webstar as ancient. Compared to the young leaders of the three clans, he was elderly. He sat on the lowest branch, his silver claws digging into the bark as he held on with all his life. His eyes were full of gray clouds, seeming to float off before a storm arrived.

"Where is your deputy, Webstar?" There came that torturous voice of Thistlestar. He greeted with no hospitality, no "glad to see you again." Thistlestar was a cat of truth; he would never welcome the unwelcomed and he leaped into arguments when he pleased. The bulky ShadowClan leader possessed an evil glow of amusement as he carried on.

Webstar cleared his throat before speaking but it wasn't much use, because he croaked anyway, "He was not well enough to make it tonight." Webstar was the opposite of Thistlestar; he would lie to keep the peace between cats and clans and he avoided arguments at every cost.

"Why, is he sick with fear?" Thistlestar's words stabbed like invisible claws. His clan was revived into ghostly chuckles, the noise beginning to echo hauntingly from each corner of Four Trees.

While Webstar remained unbothered, Larkmoon was shivering in fear. The laughter felt like shadows coming to life to steal her life- it was the welcoming of death. The ginger she-cat backed herself into Hollowhawk's side, feeling the urge to escape the ruckus. She was not ready to die.

Hollowhawk was slightly surprised by her subtle movement. He slowly wrapped her thin body in the thickness of his tail and a silent agreement was passed between them: he would keep her alive even if it meant facing his own death.

The meeting of minds seemed to be the downfall of tonight. While Webstar and Thistlestar were found in a violent understanding, the two other leaders were lost in confusion. The RiverClan leader was the first to raise her voice, "What's going on?" Instantly, her otherworldly appearance seemed to spotlight the attention. She was an angelic creature, almost seeming too lovely to be living on earth.

Thistlestar's features were set into a sinful smirk. He looked like a hunk of hell standing beside the RiverClan angel. His horrible eyes harassed Webstar and his hatred crushed his back into an arch. "Please, Webstar, why don't you inform us all?"

Webstar stumbled in shame, "Please, this should be a private matter," He insisted in a quiet voice, trying to flatten his graying fur from surging in embarrassment.

Thistlestar let out a cackle, his cacophony loud enough to shake the leaves off the trees. "It's too late for that now." His body conveyed a language only the sensitive could see; he looked crumpled in hatred, his hard feelings spoiling the bones in his body. He no longer looked like a cat but a victim to the corruption of hostility; a monster.

"Larkmoon," Hollowhawk's soft voice summoned the she-cat from the disaster taking place between the trees. Larkmoon glanced over her shoulder at his handsome figure, allowing her eyes to linger on his features. One little look and the outside world was suddenly a blur. Hollowhawk crept inwards, shutting off the strangers. "You don't think that perhaps ShadowClan is making a scene on purpose?"

Larkmoon contended at the suggestion, "But what would they want from us?"

"Chaos."

The word was simple, yet it left a prevailing feeling deep within her heart. Chaos. She could feel her heart's beat breaking against her ribs and smashing into her ears. Larkmoon was sucked into her own atmosphere. Clanmate's deafening voices, bickering between the leaders, the laughter from ShadowClan; there was all this noise yet she couldn't hear a thing.

Larkmoon was suddenly drawn to her claws. The silver glint under the pale moonlight was not what caught her attention, instead, it was the faint red coloring on the edges of her blades. But I didn't go hunting yesterday. She debated with herself, her soul and her mind spinning a web of lies. No, maybe I did.

She couldn't remember a thing. Where was I last night? Panic, like a stone, weighed on her chest and crushed the sanity from her bones. The ginger she-cat wanted to remember that she was asleep, but nothing came to mind. She wanted to remember the darkness of the den but she could only see the dark outline of a forest. She wanted to remember the soft feeling of her nest but all she could recall was the soft carpet of sand beneath her paws. Larkmoon could see the image before her; the lake splashing wildly against the shore, crimson blood infecting the water like a disease, a dying scream-

I'm innocent! Larkmoon brought herself back into reality. She had to remind herself that she was a good earthling; she loved life too much to ever steal it from another.

"I-" Larkmoon began to speak, allowing Hollowhawk's golden eyes to take a dip into her emotions. If he knew what she was thinking, he would surely drown. "I need to clear my head." The russet-colored cat rose to her shaky paws, slipping away from the warm cover of his tail. Hollowhawk understood without questions and simply dipped his head.

Like a snake traveling between the stripes of long grass, Larkmoon slithered between the cluster of cats. She elegantly trekked amid them, forming a pathway that disappeared in her trail. Every once and a while, she would lift her eyes to consider the colored cats. Seeing them enjoying their time made her feel rather lonely.

The loneliness continued to consume the depths of her soul. She felt like no one was on her side. Who could she tell that would understand what she was struggling through? And as if she had asked the question out loud, the answer came in a happy chirp. "Larkmoon!" It was a voice she had not heard in a while.

Larkmoon halted at the sound of her name and turned her gaze to the side. As she was brought into an instant confrontation with two twinkling green eyes, a gasp left her lungs screeching for air, "Beetleleap?" 

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