The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

50. Gatherings and Kits

     “But how will WaterClan act?”  
     “They’ll be bitter.” 
     Scorchwing blocked out his Clanmate’s chatter as they filed into the valley. He refused to allow himself any kind of anxiety. Tonight was his first gathering as a warrior. His name, along with Palemist’s, would be mentioned by Blackstar before all the Clans. 
     The day he had been given his name, he doubted that he had ever felt so proud. Palemist had promptly made a nest in the warriors’ den. Scorchwing, however, chose to stay in the apprentices’ den with Poppy to keep her company. His friend had fervently congratulated him, complimenting his name. It was not his own — he had been named after Redwing — but it was a name nonetheless, and he was happy to have it. 
     During the past four days, Palemist had also been kinder. Scorchwing guessed that he was trying to rekindle their friendship that he had destroyed. He welcomed the change, happy to have his friend back. 
     Things were well. 
     DarkClan settled amongst the other Clans. WaterClan’s the only group not here yet. Scorchwing glanced to the sky. The moon was bright, few clouds skating across the darkness. Would StarClan allow the gathering to continue without them? 
     “They’re here,” Froststrike growled. Scorchwing wasn’t the only one to notice their absence. A group of cats marched into the clearing, Swiftcreek leading them. Beetlestar isn’t here. Did something happen? 
     Swiftcreek jumped onto he massive boulder and nodded to Hailstar of TreeClan, who stepped forward. “The gathering begins now! I will speak first!” 
     “Then do it,” Palemist huffed. 
     Hailstar had little to report. No new kits had been born, and there was no sign of intruders. Prey was well. Kestrelstar’s report was similar, save a boast about the strength of MarshClan’s warriors as they fought back a pair of badgers. Waspstar was proud as he listed a new warrior, Needlefur, and a litter of kits. Next came Briarstar, purring about her Clan’s protection of their borders against “unwanted visitors,” casting a glance at Swiftcreek and nodding, provoking her to report. 
     “Why is Beetlestar not here? Did something happen?” Waspstar questioned. 
     “Perhaps they ran him out,” Hailstar sneered. 
     Swiftcreek was calm. “Beetlestar is slightly ill, so I have come in his place,” she answered. 
     “He refused to leave his den to attend,” Poppywings groaned to her brother, Yellowfoot. “Why can’t she just admit he’s a coward.” 
     Beetlestar’s ashamed! 
     Swiftcreek continued. “We have three new warriors: Spottedmoss, Minnowtooth, and Clayheart.” 
     No cat called their names but their own Clanmates. “He’s a bit young,” Yellowfoot commented, looking towards the prideful tabby that was Clayheart. 
     “We also have two new apprentices: Longpaw and Smokepaw,” Swiftcreek added. She stepped back, and Blackstar took her place. 
     “DarkClan has a new litter of four kits,” he purred. “We also have two new warriors, Palemist and Scorchwing, and our medicine cat has earned her full name: Echolight.” 
     Scorchwing felt like shrinking as cats of other Clans called his name. He looked to Palemist, who seemed to take it all in, sending looks towards the WaterClan cats. He’s searching for Spottedmoss. Is he still seeing her? 
     “Other than a few WaterClan apprentices, our borders are holding well,” Blackstar said. 
     A nearby PlainClan cat scoffed. “Probably trying to spy.” 
     All of the Clans are angry with WaterClan. It wasn’t even their fight. 
     “If that is all, it is time to return,” Briarstar meowed. “This gathering is over!” 
     So Beetlestar is cowering from the other Clans. Scorchwing gave himself a shake and followed Froststrike, who bounded after the other DarkClan warriors. I can’t help but feel bad for him. But what he did was evil. 

     Water lapped at Scorchwing’s toes, wetting his claws as he dug them into the sand. He could smell WaterClan scent. He scanned the shoreline across the river and watched as cats wandered by the bank, patrolling the border. Cold drops of rain began to patter against him, and the river began to rise. He gasped as his paws disappeared beneath the muddy water. 
     Scorchwing shuddered as something pressed against him. His eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head and shivered. Raindrops were dripping from the den’s roof, landing directly on his spine. “Foxdung,” He hissed. 
     “Stop squirming,” Poppy muttered sleepily. “Can’t you stay still?” 
     “The roof is leaking,” Scorchwing countered, pushing himself up. What time is it? Quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he slipped out of his nest and trudged into the rain. The mud squelched beneath every step as he stalked across the camp to check the prey pile. The pile, he found, was covered in leaves, but far too low for comfort. 
     “I see you’re up,” Stormstripe purred. “Ready for a hunt?” 
     “The apprentices’ den is leaking. I’d better see about fixing it,” Scorchwing answered. I don’t know which is worse! Hunting in this rain or fixing a den in it! 
     Stormstripe huffed. “Very well. Perhaps Palemist will go with me.” 
     If that’s what you want. 
     “Palemist isn’t going anywhere,” Shadowclaw grumbled, stamping towards them. “Have you seen him anywhere? That spider is still in the nursery. It’s almost been a moon!” 
     Scorchwing sighed. “I’ll take care of it.” At least it’s not outside in the rain. He wandered to the nursery, swiftly grooming himself before entering. Rosepetal was rearranging her kits, purring as she did so, and blinked at Scorchwing. 
     “Hey,” She trilled. 
     “Shadowclaw sent me to get rid of that spider. I’ve guessing that he’s afraid someone will get bitten,” Scorchwing explained. 
     Rosepetal snorted. “It’s almost like a friend now. You know, it fell on one of the kit’s the other day. The poor dear didn’t even squeak.” 
     Scorchwing tilted his head. “You just let it scuttle off?” 
     “Why not? It’s not harming anyone.” Rosepetal turned to her one she-kit and licked a patch of up-sticking fur down. “Could you get Shadowclaw for me? I’d like to talk to him about their names.” 
     I’m everyone’s servant today. “Okay,” Scorchwing answered. He trekked back into the rain, shivering as the cold swept over him. If Palemist is off with Spottedmoss, I’m going to kick his tail. 
     “Rosepetal wants to see you,” he reported. Shadowclaw’s ears pricked, and he nodded.  
     “I’ll talk to her while you get that pest,” the deputy meowed. Scorchwing followed him quietly, ducking into the nursery and searching the walls. He quickly found the spider web that the creature called home, and he pushed himself onto his back legs and studied the wall, pressing his paws against it to be certain that it would hold his weight. 
     “We need to name the kits,” Rosepetal mewed. “I have a few ideas.” 
     “Then tell me them,” Shadowclaw urged. 
     Scorchwing listened closely. It must be difficult to decide on names for kits. You’re affecting their entire future. 
     “I’m thinking that this little tom with spiky fur could be Pinekit, after my father. His fur makes me think of pine needles. And the one with the long legs would by Skykit, after Cloudsky,” Rosepetal explained. 
     “And his legs are long enough to reach the sky,” Shadowclaw joked. “And the other two?” 
      “I’d like the she-kit to be named Tawnykit, after Russetheart’s name before she died. She’s the squirmiest kit in the litter, and she’s strong.” 
     Shadowclaw purred. “Like your mother.” 
     “And this other kit could be Spiderkit,” Rosepetal said. 
     “After your little spider friend?” Shadowclaw sounded surprised. 
     Scorchwing glanced to the two cats. 
     “In a sense, yes,” Rosepetal answered boldly. “Our little eight-legged friend fell on him. And it’s been here for over a moon. This kit was the smallest, and the weakest, but he mewls so loudly. He’s determined. Tough. Like that spider. When their web is destroyed, they build it back.” 
     A symbolic name. 
     Scorchwing watched as Shadowclaw crouched beside Rosepetal and laid his head on her side. “They’re fine names. Pinekit, Skykit, Tawnykit, and Spiderkit: DarkClan’s newest members. Scorchwing, leave the spider.” 
     Scorchwing stared at Shadowclaw in shock. “Alright,” he said. “I like their names. They’re very good.” 
     “They deserve the best,” Rosepetal said softly. “They’ll become fine members of the Clan. I know they will.”