Sign Of The Moon

By now all four leaders had taken their places in the Great Oak. Firestar was balancing in the fork of a branch, with Mistystar crouched on the branch below. Onestar sat on a higher branch, his tail hanging down. At first Dovewing couldn’t see Blackstar at all, until she finally spotted him in a clump of dead oak leaves that clung to the bough, casting dappled shadows on his white pelt; his eyes gleamed, glaring down into the clearing.

Dovewing sat beside Bumblestripe, shivering in the chill, damp air, as Onestar called the Gathering to order.

“Prey is running well in spite of the cold weather,” he reported. “And Whiskernose has been made a warrior.”

“Whiskernose! Whiskernose!” WindClan welcomed the young tom, who ducked his head, looking pleased and embarrassed.

Dovewing joined in, though she noticed that not many cats from other Clans were doing the same. Gatherings should be a time for the Clans to be at peace with one another. What is happening to us?

Onestar sat down again, his gaze raking across the cats as if he was asking himself the same question. Blackstar emerged from his clump of leaves. He surveyed the cats below him in silence before he spoke. “Our medicine cat Littlecloud had a brief attack of whitecough,” he announced. “But he is now as strong as ever, and so is ShadowClan.” He closed his jaws with a snap and retreated.

“Huh—brief attack of whitecough!” Dovewing muttered. “Littlecloud was dying, and all ThunderClan knows it. Would it have hurt too much for Blackstar to thank us?”

Bumblestripe blinked at her. “That’s ShadowClan for you.”

Mistystar rose to her paws. “RiverClan is happy to see the ice gone from the lake,” she meowed. “It’s good to catch fish again. And our Clan has welcomed two new warriors this past moon: Rushtail and Troutstream.”

“Rushtail! Troutstream!” More cats from the other Clans joined in this time, as if they were beginning to relax. Or perhaps, Dovewing reflected as she joined her yowls to theirs, Mistystar’s confident and friendly manner had begun to win them over. The RiverClan leader had always been willing to work with other Clans.

“Also,” Mistystar went on when the noise had died down, “a badger was seen in our territory, but Reedwhisker tracked it with Robinwing and Petalfur, until it went away.”

“Which way?” Ashfoot, the WindClan deputy, called out. “Do we need to watch out for it?”

“I don’t think so,” Mistystar replied. “It went out past the horseplace, heading for the hills. If I’d thought there was danger,” she added politely, “I would have sent a message.”

Mistystar finished her report with a nod to Firestar. Dovewing admired his well-muscled body and sleek flame-colored pelt as he stood on the branch. “ThunderClan has good news, too,” he meowed. “A few sunrises ago I named two new warriors: Dovewing and Ivypool.”

Dovewing felt warm with pride as the Clans called out her name and her sister’s. I wish Ivypool were here to share this.

“Hey, where’s Ivypool?” Sedgewhisker of WindClan asked as the cats fell silent again.

“Yeah, she should be here for her first Gathering as a warrior,” Mallownose of RiverClan added.

“Ivypool had an accident,” Firestar mewed, before Dovewing could speak. “She had a quarrel with a bramble thicket while she was out hunting. But our medicine cat has treated her scratches, and she’ll be back on patrol soon. She’ll be here for the next Gathering.” There were a few murmurs of sympathy.

Dovewing jumped when Bumblestripe nudged her. “Look at the medicine cats!” he whispered. “They look really uncomfortable. Do you think they’ve had an argument?”

Dovewing realized that he was right. While the other cats were beginning to mingle, the medicine cats were keeping strictly to their own Clans. Mothwing and Willowshine were talking quietly together, while Littlecloud was staying close to Blackstar, and Kestrelflight crouched under a thornbush, his eyes narrowed as if he was giving the whole Gathering a suspicious glare. Jayfeather sat near the roots of the Great Oak, his tail wrapped around his paws.

“I bet it’s Jayfeather’s fault,” Dovewing whispered to her Clanmate, half joking. “He’s so prickly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s upset all the others!”

But a small worm of apprehension nagged in her belly. Medicine cats don’t have the same Clan boundaries that we do. What’s gone wrong?

Looking around, she saw Tornear and Webfoot from WindClan sharing tongues with Tallpoppy from ShadowClan, and wondered if the elders were discussing the Great Journey, which seemed to be their favorite subject when they met at Gatherings. Two or three apprentices had started a mock fight at one side of the clearing. Sedgewhisker and Petalfur were deep in conversation, maybe sharing memories of the battle against the beavers. Dovewing’s sense of uneasiness faded.

“Hey, Bumblestripe!” Grasspelt, a young RiverClan tom, bounced up. “What’s happened to Briarlight? I haven’t seen her at a Gathering for moons!”