dark days, seeking shadows (open)

[Gentle]

OF ALL THE days to choose to be foggy, this was by far the worst. The sun, which had just been out but moments ago, had disappeared entirely. The world was left in a thick mass of dull grey, with nothing but the reassuring call of the river to relax the ReedClan cats locked up in the fog.

Even the prey was brave enough to hide in their reeds and grasp every last bit of warmth in the earth. For them it seemed to come at the just the right time, for otherwise they'd be foolish enough to venture into the claws of hungry clan warriors. But for the orange and white medicine cat, it was entirely the wrong time. The wrong time entirely.

The she-cat was sitting outside of her den, waiting for the stuff to clear. She knew it wouldn't, though. How she wished it would move for her! She needed herbs, didn't it know that? She was running rather short on catmint and dangerously low on poppyseeds and marigold, both herbs with high purposes and used often. Sighing, she just stared at it, glad no one was injured and in her den. At the moment, anyway.

The mist was rather thick, wraping its fingers all the way around the camp. Gentlecall, the medicine cat of ReedClan, couldn't see beyond its thickness. She feared that soon she wouldn't be able to see a few paw steps in front of her, but there was time before it grew to that.

Hopefully, anyway. For it seemed that recently there was darkness all around. Darkness in the air, darkness between cats... fog was just misting up all of their vision and imparing them to what life could be. What life should be, in fact, was only a dream. A mere figmant of imagination, a kit's nursery tale. Cats mating for love? Hadn't been done in moons. Loners gaining a home in the clans? Yeah, right. All of the warriors, medicine cats, kits, apprentices... they were on edge, for the ones controling them, the leaders, were too busy following the stupid code to see which cats it was truly effecting. They were too busy to get their paws dirty with ordinary affairs.

Yes, if only those leaders could see what it was doing to their warriors. And Gentlecall believed it was part of her job to show Palestar what was really going on, but that would take time. Much, much time. It would take time for Gentlecall to muster up the courage, it would take time for Palestar to warm up and trust Gentlecall. In the meantime, Gentlecall would have to do some serious thinking at how to approach this.

Time time time. That's what she needed, but it was at short supply. Then again, everything was. Sighing, the orange she-cat padded back inside her den and counted over her herbs once more, hoping that she'd miscounted, but knowing that she didn't.

((Feel free to add drama or injuries or anything. ))

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[**Burn**]

MUMBLING curses to himself, Cloudypelt staggered through the dense fog that had fallen over ReedClan territory. He'd been on a patrol with Nimblefoot and Rippleheart until his brother got bored and started playing around. It wasn't unusual and Cloudpelt hadn't minded, so, despite Nimblefoot's bad-tempered snaps that they should get moving, he'd leaped at his brother and the pair had gone on to wrestle. Why was it, when Rippleheart started things, they went badly for Cloudypelt? Since they'd been kits, he had wondered at the oddity of it and now as he limped toward camp he couldn't stop thinking about the injustice of it. Then again, Nimblefoot had said it was just StarClan telling him to stop being an idiot. That was why he was coming back to camp early though, because of that little tussle with Rippleheart. It had been no claws, no serious biting so it shouldn't have resulted in injury. In fact, it probably wouldn't have if the pale grey tom hadn't been more or less thrown into a thorn bush by his brother. Thanks to that bush, Nimblefoot and Rippleheart were sniping at each other along the NightClan border and he was just trying to get back so he could get the thorns pulled out. ONE thorn was buried deep in his front left paw from when he'd tried to stand up out of the bush. Other thorns were tangled in his thorn, one jabbed into his shoulder and several poking his sides in the most irritating manner imaginable. His grey fur was tussled and ruffled, spiking in odd directions and his paws were soaked up to his shoulder because of the snow he and Rippleheart had been rolling around in. Blue eyes dreary and slightly brooding, Cloudypelt warily began to skid and slide across the iced stream and finally managed to get into camp. LIKE everywhere else, fog lay heavy over the entire camp. Sounds were muffled from the outside world, no birds were in the sky and the river flowing under the ice was only a faint whisper. No one was lounging around the clearing like they did during good weather, not that Cloudypelt blamed them for taking to the dens. The cold alone was bad enough to make anyone want to curl up in their nest, nevermind the thick fog. LIMPING like an old elder and feeling silly for it, Cloudypelt made his way toward the secluded little den of the clan's medicine cat. Being a healthy feline, Cloudypelt didn't generally see much of ReedClan's medicine cat, though he knew of her and her kind reputation. Her name was Gentlecall and he'd seen Rippleheart be treated by her once when they were apprentices and his brother had gotten a little roughed up during training. Today though, he'd be glad to meet her if only to get the thorns yanked out of his fur. He hadn't trusted Nimblefoot or Rippleheart to do it, knowing Rippleheart would make it hurt unnecessarily just through ignorance and Nimblefoot was too busy laughing her tail off. "GENTLECALL?" Cloudypelt meowed, peering through the fog as he neared the she-cat's den. [bg=969992][atrb=border,0,true]

[Gentle]

DECIDING THAT THE missing herbs would never appear no matter how many times she counted or how hard she willed them to show up, Gentlecall concluded that it was pointless. Figuring that she should sleep now in case the fog cleared up later that night, she she-cat settled down and closed her eyes.

Those emerald orbs had only just shut when her own name spoken by another popped them open again. Springing up from her moss faster than a rabbit, she was eager to be put to use and met her patient as he entered the den.

Cloudypelt. She recognized him as he entered, but barely put a name to him at first. His grey fur was tossed here and there, his eyes of blue seemed fatigued, and he was absolutely soaked from the white layers of snow hiding the grass. But what had stood out the least and the reason he'd come to her, she naturally assumed, was the thorns sticking in his body.

"Oh dear, she muttered as she sat him down, carefully prodding the thorns with her teeth. There were several easy ones simply stuck in his matted fur, but several were deep in his flesh and would take some wiggling.

"What happened?" the she-cat asked, her soft-spoken voice muffled as her teeth wrapped around the thorn in his shoulder. She yanked and pulled and tugged at it until she came up victorious, the annoying thorn between her teeth. Spitting it out and placing it carefully into the pile with the others, she began to work on the one in his forepaw.

That one was much more difficult. She clamped her jaws around it as hard as she could and wiggled slowly at first, wanting to ease it. If she tugged too hard it could open the wound, and that would be horrible. So using the gentlest nature she had, she prodded it and pulled it, wincing ever so slightly for the cat she was operating on. Then, deciding it was time to give it a few good tugs, she pulled as hard as she could, soon finding herself skidding across the den with the little beast between her teeth. After composing herself she quickly she wrapped the little prickers in a leaf and disposed of them around the back of her den, just to be sure that they didn't end up in anyone else's paws.

"Is that better?" she asked with considerable kindness as she re-entered and stood before the tom. "Do they still hurt? Here, have some of this..." she said as she dug through her supply for the perfect herb. Well, it wasn't perfect, but it was close enough. Dock- it would help with some of the deep ones that had turned into scratches.

Vigorously chewing it up, she applied it to the worst ones, such as the paw and the shoulder, and decided to start a conversation as she worked. "You were with your siblings again, I presume? This didn't happen due to Rippleheart, did it?" Her voice was stern but soft as she asked, waiting patiently for a response.

[**Burn**]

RECLINING on his haunches, Cloudypelt did his best to sit still while Gentlecall went to work. It was easy when she pilled out the ones that were mainly just tangled in his fur but it got harder as she worked her way to the ones that had actually gotten into his skin. The deeper ones made him clench his jaw and tense up, though one medicine cat had once told him that was a bad idea, he did it anyway. Partly he had to so he didn't accidentally lash out at Gentlecall or flinch and just end up making a scratch deeper. He could only be thankful that there weren't any thorns stuck in his muzzle or underbelly which was much more tender than his sides, though the little bugger in his paw was a real annoyance. When she got to that one, he turned his paw so she could see the pad and had to try very hard not to yowl in an undignified fashion. It was hard to do since it seemed the thorn was firmly planted in his paw. WITH a white-hot stab of pain, the thorn came free and this time he couldn't quite hold back a hiss of pain as Gentlecall stumbled halfway across the den from the force of her pull. He brought his paw pad up and gave the cut a few licks before letting Gentlecall place a paste of dock leaves over the sore spot and then adjusting himself so she could easily access his shoulder. WHEN she mentioned Rippleheart, his ear twitched and he ducked his head a little, feeling rather silly for the story that went with his injuries. "HE was bored so we decided to spar a little," Cloudypelt told the medicine cat, feeling very much like an apprentice that was about to be scolded. "He accidentally threw me into a thorn bush." If cats could blush, Cloudypelt would have been as red as a wild strawberry. "And yes, I feel much better now, thank you Gentlecall," Cloudypelt assured the she-cat, offering her one of his shy little smiles. "Thank you for your time." Bobbing his head, Cloudypelt gave his paw a few more tentitive licks, careful of the dock paste. Noting the piles of herbs nearby looking a bit low, the warrior raised his head and flicked his ears toward them, his plume of a tail coming to curl around his paws. "When we passed near NightClan, we scented their medicine cat. We assumed he was coming here to ask for herbs but when we followed his scent trail, he passed along our border with SunClan and went toward the twolegs. Are herbs truly so low already?" IT wasn't unusual for medicine cats to cross borders and even share herb stocks when times were tough but Leafbare had barely just begun. To think NightClan would already be low enough to be seeking out herbs in twoleg gardens worried Cloudypelt, though his siblings had seemed unbothered by the scent trail. Cloudypelt couldn't help but wonder if it meant NightClan was experiencing sicknesses like greencough or whitecough. The medicine cat's scent hadn't smelled sickly, but perhaps it was just because the snow deadened the smell? Cloudypelt looked at the ginger medicine cat, curious for her answer regarding the movement of other clan medicine cats. Not many warriors paid attention to such things but since Mistygaze had been often friends with the previous medicine cat, Cloudypelt had grown up with a healthy respect for them though his siblings tended to lack such respect, all except Moonflower. [bg=969992][atrb=border,0,true]

[Gentle]

GENTLECALL COULDN'T HELP wincing as Cloudytail hissed in pain. "Oh, I'm sorry... it's out now, it's okay," she apologized and assured him. Then, figuring it was a good time to sit down, she plopped herself before the tom.

"Accidentally threw you, hm?" she asked, cocking a brow and a crooked smile as he told her of his tale. He bent his head in what seemed to be shame, but she tried to bring him back up. "I'll talk with him the next time I see him. He needs to be more careful, and so do you. But you're lucky you have such siblings to play around with. Don't lose them." The medicine cat's playful scolding turned into a fierce warning as she took her green eyes and looked deep into his blue ones. She was dead serious, and she hoped he understood.

Gentlecall tried to recall the tom's age. She was only a bit older than him, she assumed, but they were rather close in age. Would he remember? Would he remember the execution of her mother and half-brother? Maybe, maybe not. She herself had only been an apprentice at the time. For her mother had mated with a loner after her father had died, hence producing Eaglekit. Gentlecall hadn't been sure of him when he'd first been born, but his playful spirit and enlightening laughter had grown to her. She'd loved him, and, though she believed her mother to be foolish, she'd loved her mother too.

That was a day that Gentlecall herself would certainly not forget. For a warrior had discovered her brother hiding in a tree (or rather, her brother had discovered the warrior), and by then it was all over. Her mother and brother were executed before her very eyes, and she could never block out their screaming as the leader delivered the death blow from her dreams ever since.

Trying to shake herself from the horrifying flashback, she turned her attention back to the warrior. "I'm sorry, I was having a flashback..." she whispered as she forced her green gaze from her paws and into his blue ones, betraying her fear and sorrow for only a second.

His question came to her slowly. "Yes, I assume the stocks are rather low," she answered, still only a bit distracted. "Well, mine are, anyway. I'll head out tomorrow when this awful fog clears up. Rootclaw was passing you say? I dearly hope NightClan isn't ill, though I wouldn't say it impossible. I wish him luck in this fog, though I may meet up with him later. This catmint thing may get to me..." Though her words were on the conversation, her mind was elsewhere as she tried to focus herself away from the past.

[**Burn**]

GENTLECALL'S subtle scolding stung more than Cloudypelt had expected because he faintly remembered when the clan had gathered to see her brother and mother executed. He was not ignorant to the fact that his own mother had narrowly escaped such a fate, despite being only a kit when Gentlecall's family had been labeled traitors. His own mother had told the clan again and again that her kits were fathered by a clan cat named Badgertail and the tom had stood beside her and agreed. Of course, a few weeks after he had stood beside her in public and declared himself the father to their kits to appease the clan's thirst for blood, he had died while fighting with a NightClan cat on the border. Because Mistygaze had mourned him so deeply, the clan had been forced to accept that no one else could have fathered her kits. In a rare show of mercy, the clan had let both the blind queen and her kits live. Gentlecall's family, if Cloudypelt was remembering right, had not been so lucky. Then again, if anyone asked an older warrior why the two cases were so different, they would just say because the kit hadn't been shown to the clan so its father must have been from outside the clan. "I'LL remember that," Cloudypelt meowed, nodding to her as she finished warning him to value his siblings, as if he didn't already. His siblings and mother were his life. Sure, they made his life hard sometimes but he adored them nonetheless. He twitched his ears when she mentioned the NightClan medicine cat, Rootclaw was it? Something like that, Rootfoot, Rootheart, something along those lines. "I expect if you go by tomorrow he may still be near the twoleg place, from NightClan territory it's a long trek and in this snow I doubt anyone could make it in one day without their paws freezing off or getting lost in the fog." RISING, Cloudypelt stretched. He tried not to wince when he put pressure on his injured paw and did a good job of hiding it. Giving his chest fur a few quick licks, Cloudypelt nodded his thanks to Gentlecall, tail waving lazily from side to side as he prepared to leave. "I'll leave you to your business then, thank you for the dock and pulling out those blasted thorns. If you need help tomorrow gathering herbs, feel free to call on me, I'll owe it to you." Smiling, the blue-eyed tom slipped out of the den into the damp cold of ReedClan's camp. [bg=969992][atrb=border,0,true]

[Gentle]

GENTLECALL NODDED AS he recognized his sibling's value. Of course he remembered her horror. She could see it in his eyes. His family had been accused of the same crime, but his mother had been found innocent after mourning her "mate's" death. Gentlecall, when she was an apprentice, grew furious at this decision. After recently becoming an orphan and without siblings herself, she was composed on the outside but a wreck on the inside. She had been full of such anger and jealousy that she'd been blinded by rage. How had his family escaped the torture, while Gentlecall's got the full blow? It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair.

Now, looking back on it, she was glad that his mother wasn't dead. She quite enjoyed his family, in fact. They were good clan members and kind folks, though she'd always miss her own. How could she not? Family were the cats that were supposed to love you no matter what, and her mother and brother and former father had filled that position well. Now no one had to love her. They could easily ignore her, in fact. And then she'd be left all alone.

"Yes, I suppose so..." she replied quietly to his remark about Rootclaw, though she wasn't really listening. "I'll look for him."

When the warrior said he owed her one, she was rather shocked. Though she'd gotten many thank yous for her previous help, no one really "owed her". She told him so. "You do not owe me, Cloudypelt. If that were so, then I would owe you for every mouse you caught to keep me and the clan stable. Please, feel free to come to me any time. And tell your siblings and mother I said hello, please." Deciding that she should end on something less... depressing, she added a medicine cat's "May StarClan light your path," before stepping back into the shadows of her den.

Then, with memories of her past swarming her, she laid down in her nest and allowed a few silent tears to fall before becoming overwhelmed by an overpowering sleep.

[**Burn**]

BEING a cat that never accepted outright charity, even though it was Gentlecall's job to heal wounds and the like, Cloudypelt made his way across the clearing to the fresh kill pile, at least he could take her something since she seemed a little down since the mention of family. Sadly, the grey pelted tom found the pile pitifully low, in fact, there wasn't even a mouse to offer. Frowning at the sight, Cloudypelt glanced around the camp. Everyone was either waiting out the fog or already out hunting and patrolling, even training apprentices. His blue eyes found Gentlecall's den. He felt bad, knowing his mention of such casual family interaction had stung the medicine cat. When he was young, he could faintly remember green eyes full of jealousy when he wrestled with his siblings outside the nursery while Mistygaze kept keen ears turned in their direction in case there were any true squeals of pain. Had those eyes been Gentlecall's? He couldn't remember. Back then, the jealousy and pain of others hadn't meant much to him. His world had revolved around Mistygaze. At first, he remembered others being angry at his mother but eventually it had stopped so he had stopped worrying about why. Naturally she'd explained it later, before they all became apprentices, but still he hadn't spared a thought for the jealous green eyes. NOW thoroughly troubled, the tom tested his paw. Good enough to hunt. With a determined glint in his blue eyes, the tom left camp with only a slight limp thanks to the dock Gentlecall had put on his paw. A while later, the fog-grey tom again skidded across the iced over river and made his way into camp. His paw was sore from the cold and his shoulder was protesting but a scrawny rabbit hung in his jaws and triumph glittered in his blue eyes. It had taken three near misses for him to finally get his claws into some prey. Glancing around, he found camp much the same as when he had left it. Hoping Gentlecall hadn't already gone to the twolegplace, Cloudypelt limped his way across the clearing. His limp was more pronounced than when he had left but he paid it no mind. Glancing at the fresh kill pile he was glad to see a sparrow and two mice had been added to it, but made no move to add his rabbit. Instead he headed for the she-cat's den and paused outside. Peering in, he felt his heart sink a little. INSIDE, curled up in her nest, Gentlecall was fast asleep but he could smell the lingering salty tang of tears. SLIPPING inside on silent, if lopsided, paws the grey tom crept close to her nest. Laying the rabbit near the nest, he backed off and dropped into a crouch. Tucking his front paws under his chest, curling his tail around his side, the tom settled in to wait patiently for her to wake up. She just looked so lonely in this den all by herself, asleep without someone else to keep her company. So, he would wait. He felt bad for his hasty retreat earlier. She had always been alone, at least whenever Cloudypelt remembered seeing her. Remembering it he felt bad. Mistygaze had always told him that if someone looked like they could use a friend, be one. She'd always looked in need of one but Cloudypelt had never offered to be one. Hopefully he could change that. SHIFTING to get comfortable, the tom settled in to wait. [bg=969992][atrb=border,0,true]

[Gentle]

THE DREAMS OF a lonely cat are never pleasent ones, as Gentlecall knew rather well. She didn't often feel lonely, for she knew she still had her clan, but after Cloudypelt's leave and as she walked in her dreams she began to feel the emotion of lonliness truly sink in.

It wasn't a dream, really, but a nightmare. She was walking in a forest. An endless forest. Columns of trees had separated to make a long path just for her, as she walked through the woods. She'd thought it was a good idea when she'd first entered. Now, not so much. But when she tried to turn around to leave, her paws wouldn't let her. She had to go forward.

Then the screams settled in. The screams of her mother, the screams of her brother, the screams of her own terror and immense sorrow at the feeling of injustice. They rang in her ears until she found herself running, running, trying to find some sort of way out. But she may as well be running forever. The only thing that saved her was reality.

Her eyes opened slowly as relief flooded through her. She was okay, she was all right. It was just a dream, it was just a dream. But the screams... they had been so real.... Then she remembered they had been real. She flicked her ears and dismissed them.

A strong, mouth-watering smell wafted through her nose as she looked around the den. There, sitting next to her, was a freshly caught rabbit. Her stomach growled. But before she began eating it, she noticed its hunter sitting in her den as well.

Gentlecall was truly touched at the tom's kindness. No one had really bothered to do this for her before. Still laying down but straightening her head a bit, she peered at him with thoughtful eyes. "You didn't need to do that..." she said. In fact, you shouldn't have with your injury... was what she wished to add, but she decided against it. No need to downplay his kindness.

Dipping her head and taking a bite, the medicine cat was overwhelmed with satisfaction. It was delicious. After several more hungry bites, and with most of the thing still left, she said, "I'm not going to eat this all by myself, you know. Please help me finish it," before gesturing for him to come forward.

After gazing at him for several seconds once she'd had her fill, the orange she-cat felt rather ridiculous. How could she have been so angry at his family before? They were wonderful cats, him included. She felt foolish, but what could she do? That was behind them, and he clearly thought nothing of it now.

"Thank you. Thanks for... for everything," she said, not only thanking him for the rabbit, but for the company too. The orange medicine cat wished he could stay for a bit- she could use some company- but she understood if he had to go. So she waited patiently to see what he'd do.

[**Burn**]

IT seemed to Cloudypelt that Gentlecall's was not a peaceful sleep. Occasionally her ears or paws would twitch, sometimes her tail would lash. After a while, just was the pearly grey tom was becoming sleepy himself, the ginger medicine cat woke. Blinking to wake himself from his half-sleep, Cloudypelt raised his head a bit as Gentlecall took in the rabbit and then spotted him. He wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded his head when she thanked him and offered her a little smile. He usually wasn't big on smiling but with such a kindly cat, it was hard not to, at least that was how Cloudypelt explained it to himself. He smiled a lot with Mistygaze and he used to with Moonflower until she changed so suddenly when they were apprentices. Now it was hard to smile when deep down he could tell his sister just wanted to cry sometimes. He wished he could help her, just like he wished he could go back and offer comfort to the cat with jealous eyes that he was no certain was Gentlecall. But, he couldn't go back and offer comfort to that jaded apprentice. He could offer comfort in the present, just like Nimblefoot offered comfort to Moonflower in her own bossy way. Well, maybe he'd be a bit more subtle. "YOU don't have to thank me for anything," Cloudypelt assured her, moving forward to nibble on the rabbit as well. He tried to ignore his own wolfish hunger, eating slowly so that Gentlecall could be sure to get her fill. The clan needed her healthy so that she could help them in the coming cold moons. His own hunger could always wait. "You do a lot for the clan, perhaps more than they give you credit for. Kindness should be repaid in kindness, not in seclusion." Another of Mistygaze's wise words. BEING close to her now and not distracted quite so much by the sting of thorns in his paws and side, Cloudypelt felt almost certain that the medicine cat was the cat he remembered. Her words had struck a cord with him, bringing up the half forgotten memory. It had been lost in a jumble of other kithood occupations. Kits seldom paid attention to the apprentices so no one would blame Cloudypelt for not remembering Gentlecall back when her name had been Gentlepaw. Also, chances are she hadn't had that name long by the time he did begin to pay attention to the goings on of the clan. Or at least by then she'd been busy with her studies. By then, everyone had started to leave Mistygaze alone about her kits because her mourning had been real and the leader had decided that she truly had born full ReedClan kits. Now though, he felt bad for Gentlecall. He had been ignorant as a kit but he made a promise to himself that from now on he would make a point to check up on the kindhearted she-cat. It was the least she deserved for all her hard work. [bg=969992][atrb=border,0,true]

[Gentle]

THE LITTLE GRIN on Gentlecall's face grew broader as he spoke. His words were wise, as were his facial features, as he recited the sentance that was most certainly not his own. In fact, Gentlecall was nearly positive that he got it from his mother.

Good old Mistygaze. How could Gentlecall ever wish her to death? How could Gentlecall ever wish anyone to such a fate? She was truly ashamed in herself now, and felt the urge to apologize. She was unsure how to do this, however, and whether or not it would bring up bad memories was a question in itself."I do not deserve this kindness from you, for my eyes were the ones who watched you in envy," she said barely above a whisper, now unable to look at him and instead directing her gaze to the back of the den. "I can't believe I wished this on your family, I'm... I'm sorry...." Her words were tempting tears, but she bit her lip softly and forced them back.

After a few moments of composing herself, she turned back to him, now able to look him in the face. She stared into those pools of blue and remembered the kit, playing with his siblings happily as she glared at him, envious. How foolish she'd been! She wanted to beat herself up in her shame. But there was no point in that. It was behind her, but she still felt like she should do something. Somehow these rules would change.

"This stupid code really messes things up, huh?" she said shakily as she looked down at her paws. "I despise it." The words didn't really mean to come out, they just did. As soon as she'd released them, she wasn't sure if she wanted them back. This cat was trustworthy, she eventually decided. He'd felt the fear as well. He'd understand. Now if she'd been talking to the leader... that'd be another slew of trouble. But she felt a new bond established between herself and this tom. They were friends- it was an unspoken agreement. She'd always been the one to comfort others, and it was nice to have it the other way around for a change.

[/color]

[**Burn**]

CLOUDYPELT felt saddened when he heard Gentlecall confirm his suspicion and then apologize for it. His blue eyes lit with understanding, calm and an offer of comfort as he moved forward. She was a medicine cat so intimacy wasn't something they were known for but when you had a mother that was blind, you grew up knowing facial expressions did little good. Old fashioned touch was the best way to offer comfort to another cat, especially if it was one that you considered a friend or knew often suffered loneliness. Loneliness was a demon all its own. Growing up with two sisters and a brother, Cloudypelt had never been lonely. He had always known the feel of his siblings slumbering around him, felt their tongues rasping over his fur in the evening, felt the muscle under their fur when the wrestled and seen the devotion to family in their eyes. Even Rippleheart and Nimblefoot, bossy and sharp though they were, Cloudypelt trusted them to stand beside him if he ever needed them. Not many cats could say that since they tended to drift apart from their siblings during training. Not the kits of Mistygaze. Even now as warriors, Cloudypelt often found himself tucked between or beside Nimblefoot and Moonflower, sometimes even Rippleheart. Just this morning he had shared a magpie with Moonflower, the night before he had curled up next to Nimblefoot to sleep, that evening he had shared tongues with Mistygaze. His world was smaller than just ReedClan. It was his family and the solid fact that he knew they were there, living and breathing, warm beside him or a few paces ahead or behind. GENTLECALL hadn't had that chance. She hadn't had that connection, that touch. That was why Cloudypelt moved forward and pressed his nose against the side of her muzzle with a soft purr of reassurance. Rasping his rough tongue over her ears a few times, the light grey tom moved back to his previous spot. "THE code...it is what it is. My mother survived its wrath by luck, I believe because the leader didn't want more blood shed. The fact that anyone had to suffer first is a bitter thing. I don't know if StarClan truly added these rules, but if they did then perhaps StarClan is not so wise? If they didn't, I can only imagine how they must frown on us." HE could still remember his brief spat with Jaggedstep in the warriors den just yesterday, about how the deputy thought Mistygaze liberal and too free minded. Like any good son, he had reared his head to defend her, though he had luckily not had to use claws to defend his mother's honor. After all, he had nothing to hide. He was the son of ReedClan cats Mistygaze and Badgertail. Still, the idea of someone trying to talk down about his mother angered him. Mistygaze was a wise she-cat, though few cats in ReedClan understood her wisdom anymore. They were too worried about keeping blood pure and trying to keep ahead of all the other clans. It was foolish and someday it would be their downfall, more so than a single litter of half-clan kits or taking a loner into the clan ranks. [bg=969992][atrb=border,0,true]

[Gentle]

THE WAY OUR emotions work is a mysterious way indeed. One second we're flaming with rage, the next we're tranquil and calm. One moment we're in tears, and the next we're as happy as could be. It only takes something small, some sort of trigger to change them like that.

For Gentlecall, the trigger had been Cloudypelt. When he put his muzzle up to her tear-stained face, she purred and felt... she felt loved. Loved like a brother and sister, or two very close friends (anything otherwise would be illegal anyhow). And, for the first time in a long time, Gentlecall knew she wasn't going to be alone.

"The code...it is what it is. My mother survived its wrath by luck, I believe because the leader didn't want more blood shed. The fact that anyone had to suffer first is a bitter thing. I don't know if StarClan truly added these rules, but if they did then perhaps StarClan is not so wise? If they didn't, I can only imagine how they must frown on us."

At the mention of StarClan, her ears perked. "Oh, I don't believe StarClan is for this... this madness. No, not at all. They watch down on us with concerned eyes as they wait for change," she began. "Sometimes I wonder if they're on our side, and if so why they aren't doing anything. But I must correct myself. StarClan does not choose sides, they only hope for the surrvival of their cats. And so far, that's all I can do, too." The ginger she-cat trailed off at the end, wishing it wasn't true. But it was.

Carefully, quietly, she spoke her next words. "I hear they're speaking of rebellion. Some of the cats are, anyway. I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. It's not that these rules are right, 'cause they're wrong, but I feel like rebellion would be a mistake. It could lead to too much bloodshed. But on the other hand, I want to change these laws. I want to do something about it, y'know? I just... have no idea how to approach it yet..."

[**Burn**]

REBELLION. THE word was sharp to Cloudypelt's ears, as though someone had thrown burrs into his ears. At it, he faltered, his eyes flickering with worry. He may not necessarily always agree with the new rules but, when it came down to it, he was a ReedClan warrior. He would obey, and he would do what Palestar said. He wasn't a coward, he wasn't weak minded, though more radical cats might think so. He was simply doing what it took to stay safe. Mistygaze had to fight tooth and nail to defend her kits from an early death, to defend herself. Cloudypelt's father had to die to confirm her affections for him. If he rebelled against the clan just because of a few rules, their struggle would be made pointless because then he would just become an enemy of ReedClan anyway. THE problem was, the rules weren't just harmless decrees made by a single leader that didn't effect him. These rules were the reason his mother had had to fight so hard. These rules were the reason Gentlecall was so lonely, the reason her sleep had been disturbed. They weren't harmless decrees. They hurt other cats. Who knows, other clans may have even suffered worse than ReedClan because of them. He would have no way of knowing because contact with other clan cats was severely frowned upon. It would be tough to choose sides if it came down to war over these things. In his heart, he was ReedClan, a loyal warrior to Palestar. But he was also friend to Gentlecall, son of Mistygaze, a brother to Moonflower, Nimblefoot and Rippleheart. It would be to him to chose the safest path for them to walk. If he went against ReedClan, Palestar would punish his family. If he stayed, they would be safe but something told him Mistygaze would be frowning. IT seemed impossible to decide so he put it from his mind. "YOU speak dangerous words Gentlecall, but they are silenced with me," Cloudypelt told the she-cat, assuring her that he wouldn't spread this through the clan. "And you are right to know how to approach it, this is a delicate thing that will take a lot of thought. These laws won't go away in a day because many leaders hold them in such regard. I've heard dark rumors from NightClan, whispers along the borders and I fear them. Should it come to war with them, ever, I fear for us. I fear for any good-hearted cats that may live there. SunClan may provide a solution, though I hate to go to them for aid, I've heard they don't hold to the laws so strictly. Several warriors frown on them for it and say StarClan will destroy them someday for it. As for GustClan, I have no idea." WHO would have ever thought Cloudypelt would be sitting, talking politics with a medicine cat? He hadn't ever expected it. Still, here he was and it was not necessarily a bad place to be, though a dangerous one. [bg=969992][atrb=border,0,true]

[Gentle]

THE MEDICINE CAT listened with fond consideration as he spoke, taking in every word. He was right, of course. Well, except for SunClan. She didn't really know about that.

Suddenly, though, faster than the medicine cat could ever imagine possible, she was out. Out, just like that. Like a flaming candle burning on the wick when a gust of wind just blows out the flame. It wasn't violent, she didn't faint. She was just suddenly gently unconcsious, like a dream. Like she was sleeping.

And, if one could call it a sleep, then she was indeed dreaming. She was walking in a land she's seen many times- a place of gathering. There were four leaders and many cats, but they seemed different than the cats today. They were more gentle, more calm. They were happier, she could tell by one look of their faces. She knewt that they hadn't seen any executions recently.

Gentlecall herself was not really there, but a figmant, a ghost almost. The other cats paid no attention to her, but she didn't mind. She was taking in their conversations. RiverClan, WindClan, ShadowClan, and ThunderClan. The orange she-cat recognized all of those names from antient legends.

The gathering began, and each of the leaders introduced themselves. But now Gentlecall wasn't paying attention to their words as much as the atmosphere itself. It was just so much... lighter, freer. And, with much reluctance, she woke up.

It was hard, going from that happy environment to the present, even though she had only been there for a moment. And she also knew she'd had a vision.

The she-cat looked into his blue eyes and speaking with vague anxiety. "Cloudypelt, I saw it. I saw... I saw the clans, I saw them before they were like this. Cats were happy once, cats were free. I didn't see much, Cloudypelt, but I could tell..." her voice broke a bit as she spoke, excitement and tears threatening her speech. She nuzzled into him, feeling such extreme emotion one couldn't even begin to describe. Fear, excitement, guilt, worry, and a tinge of remaining happiness from the past were just a few of them, but only a few.

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