"Hey! Time to go, Swanpaw," a bright voice mewed, interrupting Swanpaw's daydreams. She picked her head up off her fluffy paws and glanced at Asterpaw.

     "Oh, uh, oops, didn't see you all gathering up . . . I'm coming." Swanpaw got to her paws, enjoying the pleasant feeling of her stomach being full for once. Hurriedly licking her chest fur while walking in an attempt to tame it before the Gathering, she stumbled over to the group of cats waiting.

     Unsurprisingly, Briarpaw was sitting there right on time, her sleek dusky fur groomed to perfection . . . even if it was lacking that healthy sheen that meant a cat had been eating well. She stared straight ahead with rigid posture, ignoring the faces that Ravenpaw was making at her from afar. The black tom had been in an especially sour mood since he had learned that he would not be attending this Gathering. What made it worse was that Nightpaw and Plumpaw, his sisters, were allowed to go. Sleekpaw wasn't going either, but she was sulking in the apprentice's den instead of making a fool of herself like Ravenpaw.

     Swanpaw sat down by Briarpaw and kept smoothing down her wild white fur. Regret that she had neglected to wash herself earlier was nipping her insides. It would be shameful to go to a Gathering with such a messy pelt.

     Briarpaw glanced at her from the corner of her eye. "You really are so careless," she mewed with a smile.

     Swanpaw stomped on Briarpaw's foot. Sadly, it did not have the effect she had hoped for. The tabby she-cat simply tucked her paws in and laid down in a loaf shape.

     "You should think more," Briarpaw advised.

     "Yeah, well, I was um, I was thinking about my prey."

     Briarpaw's mouth twitched into a smile. "Mmhm."

     "You," Swanpaw grumbled between licks, "are such a bossy cat." She moved to work on her tail. Once her tail was soft and silky, she licked her paws and swiped them over her ears. Briarpaw snorted and Swanpaw glanced at her, frowning.

     "What?"

     "Nothing."

     "What?" Swanpaw whined.

     Briarpaw's gaze trained to her ears. "It's just that every time you wash your ears, you sweep the fur up into these funny little tufts at the top."

    Swanpaw maintained her dignity by retorting, "Well, Jaystar has tufts on her ears."

    Briarpaw just gave a little laugh.

     Finished with her grooming and too embarrassed to look at Briarpaw, Swanpaw stared up at the sky, which was framed by the empty branches of trees surrounding camp. Pink and pale violet softened the stark white of the clouds, and the sky was a deepening blueberry color. The sun had jut set, taking its slight warmth away along with its light. By the time they reached the island, dusk would have set in and the moon begun to rise.

     "Time to head out," Jaystar's brisk voice ordered as Silverfrost and Lichencloud joined the group. Briarpaw stood up and Swanpaw followed her out of the camp. They stuck close to their clanmates as Jaystar led the way to the Lake.

     A mourning dove cooed sadly, and another responded. Swanpaw's mood fell lower as they plodded on in the cold. Unnatural silence gripped the forest, the only sounds being the cracking of twigs underpaw and the lonely coos of doves. No cat spoke. 

     It was a far cry from how her first trip to the Gathering had been. SkyClan had chatted amiably with each other, warriors remembering friends from other clans and hoping they would be there, excited apprentices whispering about what it would be like. A breeze had rustled the leaves in the trees and a promising hush had come over the cats as they neared the lake, beautiful and slowly rippling in the dark, the moon's reflection dancing over it. 

     It had been nerve-wracking at first when she crossed the log which led to the island, and once it was over she had marveled at how many cats there were on the island. Nervous, she had stuck close beside Briarpaw, but soon, she loosened up after seeing the clans interact peacefully with each other.

     Swanpaw wished those warm, carefree days would return. It seemed almost like a dream, imagining normal life in SkyClan, when the only bothers would be cleaning the elders for ticks and trying to ignore mean apprentices. Things were so much more complicated now. Food was scarce, training was hard, strange cats were joining SkyClan, lots of cats hated her and—

     A voice snapped Swanpaw out of her self-pitying thoughts. She jolted. "Hmm?"

     "I said," Briarpaw mewed with a sigh, "do you remember what Sandstar and Aspenstar agreed to at the last Gathering?"

     Swanpaw's forehead furrowed. "Umm . . ."

     Briarpaw rolled her eyes. "You are so forgetful."

     Swanpaw watched Briarpaw out of the corner of her eye and then shoved out a paw and stomped on Briarpaw's foot. Briarpaw gave a yelp and tripped, tumbling into a pile of leaf mold. In an instant she was back on her paws, glaring at Swanpaw with sparking cyan eyes.

     "Why did you do that? Now I'm all dirty," the brown tabby spat, lashing her long tail.

     Swanpaw shrugged, trying not to giggle. "I stumbled and just happened to step on you."

     "Yeah right!" Briarpaw hissed. Swanpaw said nothing and watched as Briarpaw shook herself and groomed the leaf rot out of her previously perfect fur.

     "So, you gonna remind me, or not?" Swanpaw asked as Briarpaw finished.

     "Maybe. If I have time once we catch up to the others," her sister muttered.

     "Then let's hurry." Swanpaw began trotting, then running. She could hear Briarpaw's footsteps falling just behind her on the cold, hard-packed earth. Looking back to see how close her sister was, Swanpaw nearly rammed into a fallen tree—but looked back just in time to leap over awkwardly with a squeak of alarm. Swanpaw landed stumbling, and halted, glancing behind her.

     Briarpaw sailed over the fallen birch with ease.

     Why do I have to be so clumsy? Swanpaw wondered embarrassedly. Why can't I be graceful, like Briarpaw? I mean, come on—aren't RiverClan cats supposed to be graceful and sleek? How come Briarpaw inherited both those things, and I got neither? I'm just poofy and white and awkward.

     "So," Briarpaw panted, slowing her pace and trotting beside Swanpaw, "what I was trying to say when you so rudely tripped me, is that last Gathering Sandstar had a request. She whined about ThunderClan being short on prey—blah blah—like the rest of us aren't struggling to keep our elders and kits alive, too."

     "Sandstar wasn't whining," Swanpaw protested. "She was being humble and asking for help."

     Briarpaw gave a contemptuous snort. "Yeah, whatever. You wouldn't find Jaystar groveling for a little food, and I'm fine with that. I'd rather the other clans see us as proud and hungry than weak and humble and starving." Her sister paused, still keeping up an easy trot. They were nearly caught up with the clan now, but still they lagged so that the others would not overhear their conversation. "Anyhow," she went on, "Aspenstar—being the pretty little RiverClan showoff she is—offered ThunderClan a catch of fish, because of course the rivers are so plentiful. But she warned that if ThunderClan was caught stealing, there would be punishments, and Sandstar agreed to punish any of her cats stealing publicly in front of a Gathering. So I'm wondering, will anyone be punished tonight? And how, if they are being punished."

     Swanpaw huffed. "Ohh. Yeah, I wonder. Can we walk now?"

     "You should exercise more," Briarpaw advised.

     Swanpaw swished her tail indignantly. "I'm strong, I'm just not . . . um, good at keeping going."

      "Endurance sounds like the word you were going for there," Briarpaw mewed dryly.

     "Yeah. I'm not endurance-y."

     "That's not a word."

     Swanpaw's ears burned and she looked around for a distraction. "Ah! Hey! Look, we're here now!" She waved her tail and leaped to catch up with the others of her clan. It looked like WindClan was just arriving as well, and she wouldn't want to get caught up in the stream of swarming slim bodies. Wafting along with the moor cats was a dull, old heather scent, along with the smell of rabbits and dry earth. They appeared sleek and wiry as ever, but when Swanpaw looked closer she noticed tufts of fur sticking out, outlining ribs along their sides. The little softness WindClan cats' bodies had had before was stolen by the hard season.

     The trees tapered out to reveal a gray, pebbly beach. Claws clacked against small stones, and the sound of waves gently rolling and swishing filled the air. A light, chilly breeze tickled the fluff in Swanpaw's ears. The sun had just sank, and the brightest stars were barely visible in the violet sky. A round, pale moon was slowly ascending.

     Swanpaw felt Briarpaw's tail flick her leg and she glanced at her sister, who jerked her head slightly to the right, where WindClan cats were waiting for their turn to cross the log.

      "Look at Dappledstar," Briarpaw whisper-hissed. Swanpaw's eyes flicked, settling on the leader.

     "She looks positively frail!" Swanpaw whispered, horrified. It was true. The skinny WindClan leader stood on twig-thin legs, and her ribs protruded visibly from her matted tortoiseshell pelt. The only bit of her that looked unchanged was her gaze, dark green and proud.

     "WindClan must be even hungrier than we are," Briarpaw guessed with a quiet tone.

     Swanpaw narrowed her blue eyes sadly, swishing her tail.

     "You two! Let's get going; other clans are waiting to cross!" came the snappish voice of Hawkshade, who was looking back at them.

    Swanpaw flinched and squeaked, "Sorry!" as the tabby tom leaped up onto the tree trunk. Swanpaw led the way and scrambled up the log, crossing it with tentative, cautious steps. Risking a glance behind to see how Briarpaw was doing, Swanpaw saw her sister casually prowling across, not looking concerned in the least about the swirling black water beneath them. Swanpaw tried to loosen up her gait and not looked as scared as she felt. I am so glad I didn't get born into RiverClan, she thought with a shudder. I couldn't stand having my long fur always waterlogged—not to mention it sounds absolutely terrifying to go swimming in the darkness of the lake.

    The young she-cat was glad when she finally leaped down from the bridge . Briarpaw followed with a swish of her dark tail and bright eyes immediately roving the crowd of cats. Swanpaw pressed close to Briarpaw as they made their way forward to join their clan. Fluffing her white fur out from the cold, Swanpaw sat next to Plumpaw, with Briarpaw close beside her.

    "I wonder if Copperpaw will be here," Swanpaw wondered aloud. She glanced around for RiverClan cats. The fishy scent in the air alerted her that they had arrived already.

    "So what if he is?" Briarpaw muttered.

     "Um, he was nice and I want to talk to him again?" Swanpaw suggested.

     "Whatever. If he's here, I'm not talking to him. In fact, I'm staying right here the whole time."

     "What is wrong with you? Don't you want to make the most of the Gathering?" Swanpaw inquired incredulously.

     "No. I'll make the most of the Gathering by observing the other clans and seeing how weak they are, as well as listening and picking apart the news the leaders share," came Briarpaw's cold reply.

     Swanpaw shook her head. "Come on, that's messed up! Gatherings are about sharing news and socializing with the other clans. Follow me and we'll talk to some other nice apprentices I've met," Swanpaw ordered, standing up. "Plumpaw, wanna come with us?" she asked.

     The pale tortoiseshell gave a start and looked up, mumbling nervously, "Oh . . . um, well, I don't usually talk to other apprentices . . ."

     "Please come with us? I know a really nice ShadowClan she-cat named Songpaw. I think you'd get along well with her," Swanpaw wheedled. "Then you can tell your littermates how many nice cats you met at the Gathering, and I bet they'd be surprised."

     Plumpaw hesitated, her dark green eyes flicking from her paws to the ground. "Alright, I'll come with you," she murmured at last.

     Swanpaw blinked happily. "Great! Now let's go try and find Songpaw—I think I saw her for a moment earlier." Bouncing to her paws, Swanpaw glanced around again. Among the throng of black, gray, and dark brown pelts of ShadowClan, Swanpaw glimpsed a pale gray blotched tabby pelt.

     "I see her! Come on!" Swanpaw exclaimed. As she started forward, she noticed that Briarpaw stayed in her position, staring icily ahead.

     "Umm, Briarpaw, we're going," Swanpaw reminded her sister.

     Responding with a bored tone, Briarpaw mewed, "I already told you I'm staying right here."

     Swanpaw gave a long-suffering sigh and mewed to Plumpaw, "Well then, I guess we'll just be leaving grumpy old Briarpaw all by her little lonesome. Oh well. Bye bye, Briarpaw! You can sit here and be bored while we go have fun with other fun apprentices." And with that she flounced off, mostly to annoy Briarpaw. Plumpaw scuttled along behind her.

     "Songpaw!" Swanpaw greeted her friend. The silver she-cat turned, her blue eyes lighting up at the sight of Swanpaw.

     "Swanpaw, nice to see you," the ShadowClan apprentice mewed with a friendly blink. She stepped closer, past a thick-furred brown tabby tom. "Who's your friend?"

     Swanpaw motioned with her tail for Plumpaw to come forward. Nervously, Plumpaw came forward and sat next to Swanpaw. Swanpaw smiled and introduced the two she-cats. "This," she mewed brightly, "is Plumpaw!"

     "Hi," Plumpaw mewed shyly.

     "Hello. Nice to meet you! So, who's your mentor?" Songpaw inquired.

     "Erm, Hawkshade is my mentor," replied the tortoiseshell hesitantly.

     "Cool! I think I've seen him here before. Do you like him?"

      "Well . . . he's . . . he's definitely hard on me. But he is nice sometimes. Once he let me eat a robin I caught during a training session instead of bringing it to the elders." After she said this, Plumpaw's eyes went wide and she gave a little gasp. "Don't tell anyone though! Please?"

      Songpaw and Swanpaw laughed. "Of course I won't tell anyone," Songpaw assured her. "Everyone breaks the rules sometimes."

     Swanpaw nodded along with that. Then, she asked, "Who's your mentor, Songpaw? We never told each other that when we met."

     "Oh right! Well, I have Pouncebird. She's pretty good. Though recently," Songpaw confided with dancing eyes, "she's been a little more distant. She's been spending a lot of time with Rowanberry, a handsome ginger warrior. I think they'll become mates as soon as she's done training me." Songpaw giggled.

     "Oh," Swanpaw laughed. "Interesting. Well, my mentor, Fallenleaf, already has a mate, and she has kits."

     Songpaw's blinked silently for a moment. "Wait. Fallenleaf? As in, SkyClan's deputy Fallenleaf?"

     "Mhm."

      "That's so cool! You're the deputy's apprentice! That means you're pretty much guaranteed to grow up to be an important warrior."

     "I wouldn't be too sure about that . . ." Swanpaw murmured in response, thinking of how many cats in her clan disliked her already.

     "Anyhow," Songpaw babbled on, "it's a good thing you're not arrogant, like some cats I know who are apprentices of important cats."

     "And who would that be?" Swanpaw inquired, glad the conversation had moved on. She didn't want to have to have the unpleasant conversation about why she wasn't so sure she would be well-liked as a warrior.

     Songpaw rolled her pale blue eyes. "Starlingpaw. He's Ravenstar's apprentice, and he's so cocky and sure of himself. Look, he's over there with Jaypaw, my sister." The ShadowClan she-cat pointed with her tail to two cats about four fox-lengths away. Swanpaw and Plumpaw glanced over.

     One of the cats was a mackerel tabby with a pelt the exact shade of Songpaw's, and matching blue eyes. She was listening attentively to another ShadowClan cat. The cat had a sleek, starling-black pelt with a dash of white on his black nose. He waved a feathery black tail as he spoke laughingly, and he had deep blue eyes. This, Swanpaw thought, must be Starlingpaw.

     "He's handsome," Plumpaw remarked.

     This got another eye-roll out of Songpaw. "Yeah, and he knows it. Jaypaw's obsessed with him, and he knows that, too. I never saw a cat so arrogant and yet charismatic at the same time," the gray she-cat scoffed.

     "Huh," was all Swanpaw could think of to say. There was silence for a few moments before Plumpaw spoke up.

     "Um, who's that coming towards us?"

     Swanpaw followed her friend's gaze, then smiled. "Oh! That's Copperpaw, a RiverClan apprentice Briarpaw and I met last Gathering. He's pretty nice."

     The sleek red tom made his way over, with his long tail held straight up behind him. His bright green eyes were friendly, and he looked healthy and strong. A flash of jealousy touched Swanpaw's heart for a moment, then she shoved it away. It wasn't Copperpaw's fault he was born into a clan that just happened to be better off than the others this cold, desolate season. Plus, RiverClan had had its trials before as well, such as in Greenleaf, when the twolegs came and caught up all the fish for themselves.

     "Swanpaw, hello!" The tom greeted her with a friendly tone.

     "Hi," Swanpaw mewed with a smile. "Let me introduce you to my friends. This is Songpaw, who's from ShadowClan, and this is Plumpaw, from SkyClan."

     Copperpaw dipped his head to the both of them. "Nice to meet you."

     "Hey, nice to meet you, too!" Songpaw mewed enthusiastically.

     Plumpaw mewed more shyly, "Hi."

     "So, how have things been going in SkyClan? Where's Briarpaw?" Copperpaw inquired, his gaze on Swanpaw now.

     "Well," Swanpaw mewed, freezing up. How were things going in SkyClan? Well, prey was scarce as always, an elder had died of the cold, a respected warrior had been murdered, some strangers had joined the clan, and a queen had given birth to several weak kits. To put it lightly, things were not going well in SkyClan. But Fallenleaf always warned her not to give away their clan's weaknesses at a Gathering, so she had to come up with some other response.

     "I—I—well, I guess you'll just have to find out when Jaystar announces the news," Swanpaw stammered, rather proud of herself for thinking that line up. Way to dodge those jaws, she congratulated herself. "And Briarpaw's over there, being stubborn and lonely as always." She glanced over to where Briarpaw was still sitting, nonchalantly licking her paws and grooming her ears.

     "Oh," Copperpaw mewed oddly. "Why does she want to be by herself?"

     Swanpaw gave a shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine. She just doesn't like company. Well, other than mine. We get along pretty well. Most of the time," she added, remembering the events of the journey to the Gathering.

     "Oh well," Copperpaw mewed. "If she wants to be let alone, we'll let her alone."

     "Yeah." Swanpaw tried to think of something to revive the conversation. However, Songpaw did it for her.

      "So, how are things going in RiverClan?" the ShadowClan apprentice asked.

     Copperpaw gave a little smirk and looked at Swanpaw. "Well, I guess you'll just have to find out when Aspenstar announces things," he mewed mysteriously.

     "You sound like Briarpaw, using my own words against me." Swanpaw laughed.

     The ginger tom just made a wry look and mewed, "Well, I'll just say there'll be some interesting developments involving RiverClan."

     "Ahh! Now I can't wait for the Gathering to start!" Songpaw whined. "I wanna know what's going on!"

      Swanpaw might have been imagining it, but just for a moment she thought she saw Copperpaw cringe. But it was gone in a flash, and Swanpaw wasn't sure it had even been there in the first place.

     "Yeah . . . well, I suppose it'll be starting soon enough. Look at the sky," the tom commented.

     Swanpaw's gaze flicked upward. Indeed, the sky was now dusky dark blue, with twinkling stars sprinkled around. The moon was almost at its peak, which meant that the leaders would soon climb their tree and begin sharing news. The island was bathed in moonlight, with numerous shadows from many cats moving along the ground. Tall oak and birch trees cast dark shadows that wavered in the wind.

     "Oh, looks like I have to go," Copperpaw mewed suddenly.

     "Aw, we were just starting to talk . . ." Plumpaw murmured.

     "Yeah . . . but Shatteredfrost, my mentor, is calling me." Copperpaw explained.

     Swanpaw followed his gaze to see a long furred she-cat with a striking, odd, marbled white-and-black pelt beckoning to Copperpaw with her tail.

     "That's okay," Swanpaw mewed. "We can talk again next Gathering!"

     "Hey," Copperpaw mewed, green eyes brightening. "Why don't you come meet her?"

     "Really? Fun! Cool! I mean, yeah, let's go!" Songpaw burst out.

     "Uh, sure. You coming, Plumpaw?" Swanpaw asked. She looked at the soft-furred tortoiseshell, who had been quiet most of the time.

     "Um . . . sure, that would be nice of you to let us meet her, Copperpaw," Plumpaw agreed.

     "Great! Let's go before the Gathering starts and we lose our chance."

     Swanpaw stood up, noticing Jaystar making her way to the tree. "We better hurry," she murmured. The four hustled over to where RiverClan cats milled around, mingling a bit with other clans.

     "Hi, Shatteredfrost," Copperpaw greeted his mentor.

     The sleek warrior turned icy blue eyes on her apprentice, and her tail curled up when she saw that he had brought others. "Hello, Copperpaw. And who are these young cats?" Her voice was cool, yet not unkind.

     Copperpaw turned to the other apprentices, tapping them with his soft tail as he named them. "This," he mewed, his feather red tail brushing Swanpaw's back, "is Swanpaw of SkyClan."

     An alert look flashed across Shatteredfrost's face. Swanpaw's heart sunk. She knows who I am . . .

     "Ah, Swanpaw. I've heard about you."

     And here comes the insult . . .

    "It's nice to finally meet you." Shatteredfrost surprised Swanpaw by giving her a friendly smile, and blinking her pale, icy eyes.

     "N-nice to meet you, too." Swanpaw stammered, shocked. She tried to collect herself and blinked at Copperpaw's mentor.

     "This," he went on, "is Songpaw, who's from ShadowClan. And lastly, this is Plumpaw of SkyClan."

     Shatteredfrost dipped her head to both of them. "Well, I'm glad Copperpaw is getting along well with other apprentices," she mewed.

      Copperpaw looked just about to say something when a voice snapped, "Hey! What's that thing doing here?"

     Swanpaw's head jerked around at the sound of the voice, and she saw a pale gray tom glaring at her through amber eyes.

     "It shouldn't be here. It's not welcome here," he spat.

     "Stormfeather!" Shatteredfrost's voice was as cold and sharp as her icy blue eyes.

     "Get out," Stormfeather snarled, advancing on Swanpaw.

     "This is a Gathering; don't be so aggressive!" Copperpaw warned, stepping closer to Swanpaw.

     "Copperpaw, don't associate yourself with that crow-food," the RiverClan tom hissed. "It needs to get out, now."

     "Swanpaw is a she, in case you hadn't noticed," Copperpaw informed him angrily.

     "Does it look like I care?" The tom asked, his eyes never breaking their hold on Swanpaw's.

     Swanpaw's heart started to thump harder when other cats glanced her way and glared. Why do they all hate me? Not to be presumptuous, but didn't Cypressfrost break the warrior code? Why am I the one despised for all this?

     "Um, uh, I'll go," she mumbled, backing away slowly.

     "Good riddance."

     "Stormfeather! That is enough," Shatteredfrost hissed sharply. "I will have Aspenstar know about this if you do not back down."

     Stormfeather bared his teeth, then slowly retreated into the mob of unhappy RiverClan cats.

     "I—I better go," Swanpaw mumbled.

     "No! Wait, please!" The voice was new. It was one Swanpaw rarely heard.

      As she expected, the cat who had spoken and was weaving through the crowd toward her had a long, silky snow pelt, wide, innocent aquamarine eyes, and dainty pawsteps. But those crystal clear eyes held more than innocence—much more. Swanpaw stumbled backward, and hit a wall of fur.

      "Ahh, sorry!" Plumpaw squeaked.

     Swanpaw turned to the left, but Copperpaw barred the way there. And to the right, Songpaw sat, oblivious to the fact that Swanpaw needed an exit.

     "Swanpaw." The voice was soft and sweet, and Swanpaw shuddered to think of how similarly her own voice echoed her mother's. Briefly, she was jealous of Briarpaw, who had the low, captivating voice of their father.

      "I don't wanna talk," she mumbled. "Copperpaw, I need to go."

     The RiverClan apprentice seemed to understand right away and moved without hesitation. Sneaking one quick look at her mother, Swanpaw saw her clear eyes harden like chips of ice.

     "Swanpaw!" Her voice had turned sharp and biting, like a winter wind slicing through Swanpaw. "I am your mother. Do not avoid me."

     "Cypressfrost, you gave up the right to command her when you left her in her father's clan," Swanpaw heard Shatteredfrost's voice saying to her mother, like she was explaining it to a kit.

     That's right, Swanpaw thought. You have no right to demand I speak with you when you abandoned me. Maybe one day we will talk . . . but right now, I'm not ready.

     Hurriedly, Swanpaw escaped to her own clan. She pushed past Duskfang, and slipped in between Sandspark and Mallowblaze. Briarpaw was sitting stock still, alone, just as Swanpaw had left her.

     "Back from socializing?"

     "Mhm."

     "You'll be surprised to know that I talked to someone."

     "Who? When? How? Awww, my little Briarpaw came out of her shell!" Swanpaw teased.

     Briarpaw rolled her eyes and mewed quietly, "Well, for that little stab, you don't get to know who it was. It was when you were blabbing with that ShadowClan she-cat, and it's because he came over and I had to talk."

     "Oooh, you already gave me a hint! It was a tom. How about I guess? Was he a tabby?"

     "No."

     "Was he a . . . a tortoiseshell?"

     "Of course not," Briarpaw snorted.

     "Um. Patched?"

     "No."

     " . . . mackerel?"

     "I already told you—he's not a tabby."

     "Ugh! I'm running out of guesses . . . oh! Was he a solid color?"

     "Not really?"

     "But you said he wasn't patched!" Swanpaw cried indignantly.

     "Whatever."

     "Ugh. Okay. Eye color! This should be easy. Hazel?"

     "Nah."

     "Green?"

     "Nah."

     "Amber?"

     "Nope."

     "Copper?"

     "Uh-uh."

     " . . . Yellow?"

     "No."

     "Blue?"

     ". . . yes."

     Swanpaw gave a squeal. "Eee! Okay, now, if I get the pelt color right, you have to tell me his name!"

     "Sure, whatever."

     "Hmm . . ." Swanpaw contemplated. White was the most likely pelt color to go with blue eyes, right?

     "White?"

     "No."

     "Mouse-dung . . . how about—" Just then, Aspenstar's voice broke into the humming chatter of the island, and everyone fell silent. The moon was perfectly in place, round and silvery in the black sky.

     "Let the Gathering begin!"

      Hushed murmurs quieted, then Aspenstar spoke.

     "This past moon has been kind to RiverClan," she mewed in that smooth, soft voice that was a trait of RiverClan. "But not too kind. It is still leafbare, and we cannot afford to lose any of the fish in our river."

     Swanpaw noticed the sleek golden-brown leader sneak a glance at Sandstar. But then she went on.

     "Lavendermoon has recently kitted, and we have welcomed Featherkit, Finkit, and Quailkit into RiverClan." Aspenstar paused as a few congratulatory murmurs went around. Then she spoke again. "However, despite how we are getting along, a rather odd thing has occurred, and RiverClan wishes to know what has happened, if anyone else happens to know about this incident. Soon after last moon's Gathering, a warrior of ours—Perchclaw—went missing. He left no trail, and did not warn anyone that he was about to leave. We did not find any evidence that he was attacked by a creature on our territory." Aspenstar raked the clearing with a judgmental gaze. "If anycat knows of his whereabouts, we would be glad to be informed."

     "Probably ditched RiverClan to be a kittypet," some cat from ShadowClan shouted with a raspy voice.

     Before too many mutterings could break out, Jaystar spoke up. Swanpaw admired how calm and collected she looked, even as she was about to explain this awkward matter in front of a whole gathering of suspicious cats. Her minty blue gaze flicked to Aspenstar, and she gave the smallest dip of her head.

     "I know where Perchclaw is."

     A few gasps came up from the crowd of RiverClan cats.

     "In fact, he is in the SkyClan camp right this moment. Allow me to explain."

     "I would like that very much," Aspenstar mewed, her voice bordering on a hiss.

     "Last moon, just as you said, Perchclaw came to my clan. I was unaware of the fact that he and one of my warriors, Snowblossom, were having an affair—until he arrived and told me. He requested to be able to live in SkyClan to be with his forbidden mate, and I agreed to let him stay."

     "What?" A collective hiss rose from RiverClan.

      "How can we know you didn't just take him hostage?" An indignant voice screeched.

     "Because I told you the truth."

     Silence ensued.

     Finally, Aspenstar broke it. She spoke slowly, deliberately. "If you can bring my warrior to the next Gathering, unharmed, and have him show that his true wish is to be a SkyClan cat, then we will speak of this matter no more."

     Swanpaw noticed how she said my warrior.

     Jaystar nodded. "I can agree to that, as long as RiverClan promises not to take Perchclaw back against his will."

     "RiverClan promises." Aspenstar mewed coldly, looking unhappy but unwilling to push the matter. "Aside from that, there has been a bit of sickness back at camp, but we will recover. That is all RiverClan has to share. Sandstar?" The RiverClan leader gave the ThunderClan leader a pointed stare as she concluded.

    The golden she-cat squirmed, looking anything but eager to speak. "Yes . . . thank you, Aspenstar." She took a shaky breath. "Ahem. ThunderClan thanks RiverClan for the catch of fish they have shared . . . but, as many of you will remember from the last Gathering, we agreed to punish any cat caught stealing fish publicly in front of the next Gathering. And unfortunately, the need to fulfill that promise has arisen. Three of our cats were found attempting to fish in the river a few sunrises after we were granted a catch of fish."

    A chorus of snorts and "that's right, attempting" went up from the RiverClan cats.

    Sandstar took another deep breath and called out, "Streamfern, Rippleflight, and Flowerpaw, please step forward to perform your punishment."

    Swanpaw swung her gaze to where the cats from ThunderClan were camped out. Her ears flattened when she saw what she had not bothered to notice earlier. Hunched backs and bent heads, eyes trained on the shriveled grass, most of the forest cats looked forlorn and hungry. No elders were to be seen in that area, and likewise, no queens were present. Probably all too weak to make the journey to the Gathering, Swanpaw thought uncomfortably. ThunderClan looks the worst of all of us . . . we should be helping them, not punishing them. All the same, several skinny warriors still sat tall and glared at the drooping forms proceeding to the leader's tree. They hissed at any cat who threw a pitying or scornful look their way. Swanpaw recognized Thornfrost and Icefeather among those who sat stiff and proud, but she did not know the rest.

    The slow steps and furtive eyes of the criminals betrayed their shame, as well as the way their gazes avoided that of their clanmates, most of whom looked disdainfully at their code-breaking kin. ThunderClan, despite starvation, was still proud.

    Swanpaw hoped that one day she would be that strong.

    Turning her attention back to the three ThunderClan cats about to receive retribution, Swanpaw saw that there was a skinny gray mackerel tabby she-cat with dull green eyes, a beautiful but hunched tortoiseshell she-cat, and . . . an apprentice, no bigger than Briarpaw. Swanpaw's breath caught. She hoped the punishment wouldn't be too harsh. She bent her head to whisper into Briarpaw's fluffy ear, "Do you know their names?"

    Her sister leaned her way and whispered, "The little brown tabby is Flowerpaw, the tortoiseshell with the pretty swirly-blotches is Rippleflight, and the mackerel is Streamfern."

    "Ah," Swanpaw murmured, eyes trained on the three.

    Then Sandstar spoke, addressing each by her name, and then asking, "Do you understand the charges against you and why you are being punished?"

    "Yes," came the weak replies.

     "Good," Sandstar responded, though it didn't seem like she put as much emphasis on the word as she should have. "Now . . . Eaglesky will explain the penalty for your attempted thievery," she told them. Sandstar then sat back down on her branch, her green eyes defeated.

    The large white deputy stood from his post at the head of the ThunderClan cats and padded purposefully forward, facing the three she-cats. His dark blue eyes flashed menacingly and he curled his tail back and forth slowly as he spoke with a strong voice. "Criminals, hear your punishment. This has been discussed by Sandstar, Aspenstar, Pikedapple, and I. It has been decided that the three ThunderClan offenders will walk to the middle of the bridge to the island, leap into the waters of the lake, and swim back to shore, standing once more in front of us, so that all who may be thinking of breaking our precious code can see the consequences that result from such actions. Is this clear?" he asked the three coldly.

    Swanpaw shivered, and it wasn't from the wind. It's a cruel punishment, she thought. When they stand back up before us, no one will have a choice but to openly scorn them for fear of looking like a traitor. Her claws dug into the hard ground and her eyes followed as the offenders practically crawled off the island and onto the tree trunk. After several moments of standing petrified, staring down into the swirling black lake, someone from ShadowClan shouted, "Get on with it!" And another yelled, "Just jump!

     After that, a growing chant of "Jump! Jump! Jump!" started in the RiverClan section and spread throughout the island, urging the ThunderClan she-cats to leap.

    Swanpaw saw the beautiful tortoiseshell murmur something to her companions, take a deep breath, and plunge downward into the cold depths of the lake. The gray she-cat, Streamfern, leaned forward, frantic green eyes searching the lake's surface. Moments passed.

    The chanting stopped.

    Swanpaw hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until a soaked head broke the surface of the water. A collective sigh seemed to release from ThunderClan now that they had seen their warrior swimming. Her head bobbed up and down, and dark eddies rippled out around her as she made her way back to the island. Now, it was the other two's turn. But there seemed to be a problem. The little brown she-cat looked petrified, eyes glued to the reflection of the moon on the deep water. Swanpaw noticed the gray tabby nudging the apprentice, but she received no response.

    A minute later, Eaglesky sighed and started toward the log, likely to get things going. "Hey! What's the hold up? We've got a Gathering to finish up; let's get on with it!" he growled to the two she-cats. Streamfern glanced up nervously, then turned back to convincing Flowerpaw to jump. Eaglesky sidled up to the log and started crossing.

     "If you don't go now I'll push you off myself," the deputy warned.

     Streamfern bent and hissed something urgent to the brown apprentice, which seemed to startle her from her petrified state. Flowerpaw's head gave a jerk and her huge green eyes landed on Eaglesky. She crouched and flicked her tail, eyes now focused on the lake. When Streamfern tapped her back with her tail, the two jumped, plunging with splashes into the swirling water beneath the log. Two heads bobbed to the surface, and because of the silence of the clan cats, Swanpaw could even hear their desperate gasps for air.

     The water must be ice cold, Swanpaw thought. After what seemed like an hour, the two she-cats climbed out and stood by Rippleflight, and all three were shivering violently.

     "Come stand at the base of the leader's tree!" Sandstar commanded. The crowd parted quickly; some averted their eyes as the criminals passed, and some glared with disgust. Swanpaw's eyes followed them and she wished they did not have to go through such a harsh punishment, despite them having broken the warrior code. Briarpaw stared at Eaglesky impassively.

     "Cats of all the clans," Sandstar called out slowly, "this is the punishment for breaking the warrior code. See these three cats and remember to always uphold our laws." After that she seemed to be finished, but the three made to move to rejoin their clan. Swanpaw noticed Rippleflight glaring at Eaglesky.

     A sharp voice rose up from RiverClan, yowling, "Code-breakers!" Another followed with, "Promise-breaking toads!"

     Then voices from ShadowClan broke out with more insults, and the three ThunderClan cats, still shaking, stared miserably at the ground. Flowerpaw was leaning on Streamfern now as if she had no energy left. Swanpaw worried about the apprentice—now that she was soaked, her ribs were protruding visibly and her body looked miniature and thin. Would the cold shock of the lake be too much for her?

     But few seemed to care about the state of the she-cats; a sizable portion of each clan—except ThunderClan—was now growling and snarling ugly names at Rippleflight, Flowerpaw, and Streamfern.

     Swanpaw hunched and folded her ears down with her paws, which muffled the yowls a bit. This is stupid. They didn't even get away with stealing, and they're clearly starving! I wonder who first came up with this mean penalty, because whoever it was, they're delusional.

     "All right, that is enough! Silence!" A familiar voice rang out among all the yowls. Jaystar glared down at the crowd as the cats quieted. "What are we, a band of rogues?" she questioned with disgust. "It was not necessary to begin hurling insults at these three ThunderClan cats. They have served their punishment, and they did not even get away with stealing in the first place. Let's have some order around here—this is a Gathering, and we are the five clans. Let's start acting like it, and not like a pack of honor-less rogues. SkyClan will share its news now, if everyone is content to listen." Jaystar raked the clearing with a cold mint gaze.

     Quiet fell, and Swanpaw sat up again, relieved. Jaystar was certainly the best leader here.

     "SkyClan, despite this bitter cold and the recent snowfall, has managed to keep prey on our pile, and our elders and queens are still well-fed," Jaystar announced.

     Well, that's something of a lie. I wouldn't say any of us are "well fed", Swanpaw thought.

Jaystar continued, "And as I mentioned before, Perchclaw, formerly of RiverClan, has decided to join ThunderClan on a trial basis. I am also thankful that no sickness has yet stricken our camp this leaf-bare."

     "Lucky you," someone in RiverClan muttered.

     All five leaders were silent for a moment, exchanging looks. After the moment had passed, Jaystar spoke up again with a more heavy tone of voice. "As the other leaders and I have discussed, I will now announce a new addition to our Gatherings. This will be continued as long as it is necessary. We've named it the Death Call. It is to honor the warriors who have and will die during this unforgiving leaf-bare, so that they will not be forgotten." Gasps were heard from all sides of the island. "In SkyClan this moon three cats have lost their lives. Dapplefern, a respected elder, froze in the night. Tawnykit was born weak and did not live long. Owlscreech was found dead in the snow. Cause of death: unknown. That concludes SkyClan's Death Call. Ravenstar?"

     The black leader stood up on his branch, green eyes glittering in the dark. "Brackenmist and Brookflower foolishly took on a fox alone and were killed in the fight. That is all for ShadowClan. Aspenstar?" he invited the RiverClan leader to speak next.

     The golden-brown she-cat's fur looked dull and washed out in the moonlight, and she kept her gaze trained on her warriors. "RiverClan has suffered no losses this moon," she announced.

     "Is that so," Ravenstar asked. "Not even from the sickness? Congratulations." His expression was skeptical.

     Aspenstar lashed her long tail. "Do you doubt my words?" she challenged.

     Ravenstar shrugged, but did not answer.

     Aspenstar glanced at Dappledstar. "Well then, what about WindClan?"

     The thin tortoiseshell she-cat stood as Aspenstar sat. "There is not much news in WindClan except that our new kits are doing well, and we had an encounter with some passing rogues. However, Berrystalk, Flipcricket, Sunwatcher, and Heatherpaw fought well and beat them back. We expect no further trouble from those particular rogues," Dappledstar announced, a gleam of pride in her eyes. A few murmurs of congratulations went up, and then Dappledstar continued. "Sadly, one of our apprentices, Thistlepaw, in his hunger, ate a bad piece of prey and died. We grieve his loss." Dappledstar sat down sadly.

     "And lastly," Sandstar spoke after a moment of silence, "Liondawn of our clan has succumbed to starvation. That completes our Death Calls and the Gathering for tonight," she finished.

     And all Swanpaw could think was: how can there be so many deaths? Soon we'll be too weak to defend ourselves from anything.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this extra-long chapter! c: 

What do you all think of the Death Call? Any guesses as to who Briarpaw met? 

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