Open to Join [Sticky] Arriving On the Winds

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I identify as a threat. My pronouns are Try/Me.

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The gathering. A place to compare and contrast his clan with the others. To find allies and rivals. Coldstar strode down the slope, refusing to show hesitation or fear, his clan fanning out behind him. 

He brought his new deputy Cinderwisp and warriors Mistydawn and Hailstrike. For his own peace of mind, the ever reliable Briarfang and Cottonbright rounded out their enterouge. And of course Nettleplume. What clan would be here without their Medicine Cat? 

Bounding down the slope, he paused, letting the stragglers move past him before padding up to the front of the clearing. How would the other Leaders react? The clans had to know this was coming. That Boldstrike's time had been ending. 

"Palestar. Moosestar." He sat, tilting his head at his fellow leaders. How strange, to get to speak to them as an equal. 

Don’t compromise yourself - you’re all you have.

✦･ﾟ: *✦･ﾟ:* 🐦 *:･ﾟ✦*:*✧*

The scents of the cats around the clearing hit Robinpaw's nose like a tree collapsing in a thunderstorm, harsh and heavy but not as overwhelming as she first anticipated. She noticed that some of the cats dispursed in their own directions, Kestrelswipe moved towards a red and white tom and Robinpaw's gaze moved toward Nettleplume, she'd met him before... brief and fleeting but he was less of a stanger.

The brown and ginger she-cat moved closer to the cream pelted tom and sat a distance away, glancing around at the clearing as more cats arrived and moved about, three leaders stood upon the rock above them, A pointed tabby she-cat, Moosestar, and a scarred up chocolate colored tom. 

Ideas rolled in her head about who WindClan's leader could be, would she demand such a presence as these two knew strangers did? If she was the leader of the windswept moors then... surely.

There’s always something new to try. I’m hungry for all of it!

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Hailstrike rushed into the clearing, her first gathering as a warrior! She'd been to gatherings before but the eperience was surreal now, as if the moon had shed a new light on the gathering and everything lit up differently.

She glanced around, watching cats make their way into their own little groups, friends or allies from other clans, cats that shared rank like Flutterdream, Nettleplume and Tigerrush with... was that a new medicine apprentice? 

Hailstrike shrugged, moving over to whatever stranger would allow her to sit with them, the more the merrier!

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright padded among her Clanmates as they spilled into the clearing. Fourtrees always seemed impossibly large when filled with so many pelts and voices, the scents of the other Clans weaving thick through the air until she could hardly sort one from another.

She slowed near the edge of the crowd, her paws shifting against the trampled grass. Her lime-green eyes flicked over familiar and unfamiliar faces alike, ears twitching with the hum of conversations already beginning to bloom around her.

Cottonbright lingered just outside their currents, her chest tightening with the old familiar flutter of uncertainty. Who to speak to? Did she dare interrupt? She tucked her tail closer around her legs, as though it might shield her from the bustle.

With a small breath, she stepped forward, paws carrying her a few tentative strides into the clearing. She would wait...wait for someone to notice her, to bridge the silence she could not bring herself to cross on her own.

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
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Palestar had been perched, tail curled neatly about her paws, when the movement at the edge of the hollow drew her gaze. At first it was only RiverClan’s scent, then the familiar ripple of pelts as they poured down the slope. Her whiskers twitched, her breath steady until the leader at their head was not the tom she had expected.

Not Boldstar.

Her mismatched eyes narrowed faintly, watching the figure bound down with RiverClan’s strength flowing behind him. A change she had suspected perhaps but not one she would greet without calculation.

As he padded forward and greeted them as equals, Palestar dipped her head, measured and steady. "Coldstar...Is it?" Neither warm nor cold but resolute. "So the mantle has passed." A pause, brief as a heartbeat. "StarClan must have seen your path clearly."

Her eyes flicked to his entourage before returning to him. "ShadowClan acknowledges the change, and I trust you will see RiverClan as steady as Boldstar once did." With that she settled again, composure unbroken, though inwardly her thoughts turned over the weight of this change and what it would mean for the balance between them all.

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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 Nettleplume padded into the hollow with the rest of RiverClan. His pace was measured, his steps deliberate. Habit as much as composure. He did not rush to join the knots of conversation that sprouted across the clearing like weeds. He let his eyes wander instead tracing the familiar and the new alike.

ShadowClan had arrived first. Palestar poised as ever her Clan orderly and sharp at her back. ThunderClan seemed to have followed. Would others be so quick to notice a new face addressing the rest of the leadership? That RiverClan’s leader stood where Boldstar once had and that Boldstrike had not vanished entirely but lingered in another shape and name. He wondered if murmurs would rise about Coldstar’s sudden ascension and about the old tom’s transformation into something lesser. Such things never went unnoticed for long.

His gaze swept further, landing on the ThunderClan apprentice...Robinpaw, if he recalled correctly. She hovered near. A new face in the circle of healers, uncertain but eager. He dipped his head the barest fraction, acknowledgment and nothing more before letting his eyes slip elsewhere. His mind was too weighted to play mentor tonight.

Kosmo’s name still burned like an ember in his thoughts. And now, with StarClan’s voices fresh in his ears from the half moon, he could not help but turn the threads together. Nettleplume sat down at the edge of the clearing near where Flutterdream ended up tail curling around his paws. Chatters of conversation rose around him, but his blue gaze remained fixed on the leaders’ rock. His thoughts wandered elsewhere down paths best left unspoken.