Hostile

26

      Antsy, Frostcloud eyed the slope leading down to The Oak, waiting for MarshClan to show their noses. For the moon following PineClan's first ambush, MarshClan had set out for several of their own. PineClan didn't leave victorious in every battle, but Frostcloud refused to give up until Doeface's death was brought to light. MarshClan could not go unpunished for her murder.

  "Why are you so restless?" Blossomheart, a light-red furred StoneClan she-cat asked the smaller warrior, "You're acting like my apprentice, Pepperpaw." She mused, throwing her nose towards a group of apprentices. A grey and white tom bounced from side to side as he spoke enthusiaatically to the other cats.

  "Whitestar will discuss it." Frostcloud muttered. Before leaving for the Gathering, Whitestar made it clear he would tolerate no discussion of the tension between MarshClan and PineClan. Not until the Gathering began.

  Buckheart leaned down just far enough to press his nose into the back of Frostclouds ear reassuringly, and she visibly relaxed under his touch. Grasspelt, another StoneClan tom, exchanged a curious look with Blossomheart. Mousefur, a friend of Riverpelt, chewed on her shoulder suddenly.

  An earthy scent sank down the hills leading to The Oak, and from the night shadows of the meadow on the side of the gorge, Valleycats began parting the grass. They streamed down the slope, their pelts holding the moon's gentle glow, and their eyes glittering.

  Frostcloud could pick Softpelt from the group easily, but failed to detect Chicktalon. Instead, two unfamiliar cats followed Softpelt, who seemed to spot Buckheart sitting a head over the clowder.

  "Hello, Softpelt." The large tom greeted when the she-cat got close enough.

  "Hello, Buckheart." Softpelt returned, then dipping her head towards the others, "Frostcloud, Blossomheart."

  "Mousefur."

  "Grasspelt." The two Stonecats introduced themselves.

  "This is Dirtfeet and Poppypool." Softpelt said, twitching her tail towards a white tom with ginger paws, legs, and tail tip. He was specked with small black dots, though they were more noticeable on his ginger fur. The second she-cat was just plain white, much like Frostcloud.

  The cats spoke gentle welcomes for a brief time, Frostcloud periodically swinging her head around to check on the apprentices. Foxpaw had not been invited to this Gathering, but checking on the warriors in training had become a habit for Frostcloud. Ferretpaw watched as Bramblepaw spoke boldly to the other young cats, captivating their attention.

  A damp, muddy scent suddenly clogged Frostclouds throat and she swung her head around. MarshClan had started piling down the slope, and at their presence Frostcloud shifted the weight on her paws. With their arrival, the Gathering would begin, and what MarshClan had done would be brought to light.

  "I couldn't cut the tension with a fox tooth." Frostcloud could just barely hear Dirtfeet murmur to Poppypool, who twitched her ears at the comment.

  Not that Frostcloud could blame him for the observation. MarshClan and PineClan were silent, and both sent sharp looks towards eachother. Dangerous looks. Warnings.

  "Just wait for those flea-coats to launch an attack." Dustclaw murmured to Sunfur, who growled lowly in response.

  Frostcloud picked up several familiar Marshcat faces. Buzzardthroat, the tom who fell at her first Gathering. Skunkpelt, Vixensnout, and Greenpaw Frostcloud could recognize as well, though there were two more Marshcats she wasn't able to identify. To Frostclouds relief, Pebblepaw hadn't come to this Gathering.