We need to talk.

[Heathclaw]

Rustlestar darted across the moorlands of WindClan, moving forward in quick, smooth leaps, drops of water flicking off of his paws with each bound. It was raining again, as it had been for quite a long time, a deluge of water pouring ceaselessly from the sky, so that he was soaked from the moment that he'd stepped out of his den.

Rustlestar didn't care. He had more important things on his mind at the moment. Besides, the rain had gone on for so long that, as much as he hated it, he'd learned to tolerate it. WindClan cats weren't supposed to complain, at any rate.

Or so he'd thought. To be fair, he knew that Rowanwing was shouldering an immense burden, but he'd hoped his medicine cat to come around soon. As for his son, Heathpaw, Rustlestar knew his choice of mentor wasn't what the young tom wanted, but he expected the two of them to get along just fine, with time.

Rustlestar came to a stop as he neared the edge of the Moonpool Stream, which was threatening to flood its banks. On the opposite side of this wet and wild barrier of water was Thunderclan's territory, and deep inside there, ThunderClan's camp. Bracing himself, Rustlestar took a running leap at the stream, pushing up with all four paws at the stream's edge, soaring through the air, and carving out a mud path on the other side. Without a single break in his stride, he continued.

All too soon, the hills gave way to thick and dark forest. The trees closed forbiddingly around Rustlestar, a constant reminder that he was not welcome here. ThunderClan scent was wreathed all around him, but there was no sign of any patrol. That was a shame; it would have saved him some work.

After a while, he'd found the ThunderClan camp, following the strongest scent trails back to the great crag in the wall, with its bramble entrance. He paused now for the first time, wondering whether or not he dared to barge in to another clan's camp. "Forgiveness before permission," he muttered to himself, pushing his way through the brambles.

As he made his way into the camp, he made himself known, since it was likely that they would have caught on to his WindClan scent at any rate. "I need to see Fernstar!" he said, for that was the name of the last leader of ThunderClan known to him. "I come bearing an important message for all the clans!"

[Fernear!]

fernstar

Was it too early for a little bit of commotion? Clearly not. After the ceremony ended, Fernstar let Maplefeather take charge of the crowd by warming up to her new rank. The she-cat spoke with confidence and esteemed direction. She was a natural, or so it seemed. The cloud of doubt that had threatened Fernstar for the second half of the ceremony leading into the apprentices had finally diminished, confidence had been at work. With the sounds of her excited clan mates, the grey tabby slipped off to her den to contemplate the future and where she should step next.

It hadn't been but two hours before low growls and faint hisses started to sound from the stone floor below. The silence that many had claimed for their rest or thoughts was sooner stolen from them by an unknown imposer. As soon as one of the approaching cats cried "WindClan cat!" he lashed out at him, taking numerous little steps before the initial charge. The said WindClan cat's voice was lost in the baying tom's attempt to get rid of his presence, but Fernstar heard, and remembered. In a number of seconds her mind raced to the last gathering, to the Moonpool and across the moor. She knew this cat.

Like a thoroughbred from the gate Fernstar started from her den. Pebbles cascaded down the cliff as her paws dislodged them from their cold home. Every step she took was doubled by the opposing tom. With her heart beating in her ear like a war drum, she stepped in front of him, awaiting the confrontation of his blind rage. Her eyes met his, steadfast and powerful. Seeing as no cat had truly stopped it was time to break her lease on silence to end this dispute, "Stop! Have none of you heard his words? I come bearing an important message for all the clans!" She quoted questioningly. She looked back at the orange WindClan cat behind her and then back at her slowing clan mates. "Return to your dens or your old positions, I will deal with him." Turning her body to see the trespasser in full light she searched for a name, a prefix, anything, and in good time she found what she had set out for. "It's good to see you, Rustlepelt, but why did you take my clan's camp alone, and what is this news?" As she spoke, she led the tom to her den, she was well aware of the eyes burning into her sides, the hottest of which had been the attacking tom.

Climbing up the stone pathway was a skill earned with the job so she naturally stepped up first, although she kept an eye glancing and an ear angled at her follower, just in case.

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[Heathclaw]

Rustlestar was unperturbed by the ThunderClan cat that had leapt forward to attack him. Indeed, there would be something terribly wrong within ThunderClan if he was allowed to enter unchallenged. Had a foreign cat burst into WindClan's camp unannounced during his younger, wilder moons, Rustlestar would have reacted in the same way.

The only difference, of course, was that this cat was far out of his league. As the overzealous tom leapt forward, Rustlestar sprang deftly to his side, eyes blazing with battlefire. Had this been on the battlefield, this fool of a tom would have been cut down before he could make a second attack, especially with his clan mates too far away to assist him. Unfortunately, this was neither the time nor the place, and Rustlestar kept his claws to himself.

Of course, that meant that the second cat was free to attack again, and so he did, forcing Rustlestar to perform a quick roll underneath the high swipe. He rolled back onto his paws, eyes burning more than ever, bleeding slightly now from his shoulder.

The other cats were getting dangerously close now, and the urge to take out his claws and defend himself was becoming more and more difficult to control. Fernstar, get here quickly, if you want to protect your clan, Rustlestar thought grimly, for he would not give a quarter to any of these cats if push came to shove.

Fortunately, that never came to pass, as Fernstar appeared among the cats, staring her clan down with all the authority of an experienced leader. Rustlestar bowed his head respectfully towards the blue-eyed queen, but did not answer any of her questions; not yet.

Instead, he followed her to her den, aware of all the stares burning into his pelt, but supremely unconcerned. This confidence faltered somewhat as he approached the stone passage that led to the leader's den, but he managed to keep up, correcting his misteps and following the ThunderClan cat's lead.

It was only when he'd entered the den did he speak, standing firmly on all four paws. "Congratulations, Fernstar. You have a very loyal and passionate clan under you," Rustlestar said mildly. "It is fortunate that you are still as strong a leader now as you were all of those moons ago, at our last Gathering."

"It has been too long since the four clans have met together under the light of a full moon, has it not? Too long indeed, since I've forgotten that you have such hot-blooded warriors in your ranks, and you have not yet learned that I am no longer Rustlepelt, but Rustlestar."

"We need to have another gathering, Fernstar. We need this to reaffirm our identity as warriors, and we need to do it this moon, before this cursed rain stops it from happening. I thought it best to deliver this message alone, naturally, as I'm sure that bringing more cats would have convinced your clan that I was attacking your camp."

His whiskers twitched slightly, but his eyes remained stern and serious, with a spark of the fire still simmering behind them. "I'll see you and ThunderClan at the island on the full moon, correct?"

[Fernear!]

fernstar

It was very clear that the visitor had changed since their last conversation. As his newly awarded name was spoken she dipped her head apologetically while correcting herself by speaking his true name. Before this, the experienced leader acknowledged Rustlestar's reasoning and quickly began forging her reply, "It has been far too long, and I will speak with my clan at once." Laughing at his comment about her fiery warriors, Fernstar's eyes lit up at the thought of clan-bound loyalty, although she dared not to speak about WindClan's possible reaction to a foreign cat appearing in their camp just incase it would be taken the wrong way.

Instead of the latter speech, Fernstar would end the short-lived meeting with the leader of the moor a different way, "Assuming that you're traveling to ShadowClan next, you best be off. Good luck, even though I have heard hardly anything from them I'm sure they're still hasty about other clan cats prowling around their territory. I hope WindClan is fairing as well as ThunderClan is. I guess we will find out next moon!" Standing up she headed for the slippery doorway of her den while looking back at Rustlestar to ensure his exit from her den was fair, but also to make sure that he didn't pull anything ridiculous during his stay, either.

By the time the grey and white tabby was half way down the stony pathway she stopped to check on the orange tom who was seemingly not having any trouble. As she made her way down the second half of the descent and through the centre of camp, Fernstar called two of her trusted warriors over. "Please escort Rustlestar to the ShadowClan border." Neither of the warriors were the two who had made the initial approach not too long ago.

Before sending Rustlestar on his way she turned to him, "...And Rustlestar, thank you. It was truly noble of you to do this. If ThunderClan can help in any way we will."

ooc: Ick! Sorry about the length and how quick this thread was...

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[Heathclaw]

(Naw, it was meant to be short. Let's end it with a parting gift, shall we?)

That was the thing about leaders. It didn't matter how much respect or admiration they might have for each other, as they were always in a constant state of war. It was a war of words in peacetime, of diplomacy, secrets, and carefully chosen sentences... but there was always the danger of that spilling into a war between clans, of blood and claws and fur. There could be no true friendships between leaders. One's own clan came first.

At the very least, that was what Rustlestar believed. Then again, he had never really been friendly with the other clans. Respectful when it counted, yes, but never friendly. The long-furred orange tom listened carefully to Fernstar's reply, giving her a quick nod as she complied with his request.

"I should be lucky if ShadowClan is half as welcoming as ThunderClan," Rustlestar said with a whisker twitch. "And WindClan is doing excellently. Then again, I would probably tell you that even if we weren't," he added with another whisker twitch.

With that said, their meeting was effectively over, and Rustlestar was just as ready to leave as Fernstar seemed to be to get him on his way. He followed closely behind Fernstar as they descended the rock; it was easier going down then up, and he took the opportunity to check up on the ThunderClan warriors. He made eye contact with his aggressor, and made a mental note to thrash him if he ever got the chance.

"Hm. Shame, seems like Rainefrost's out on patrol. Now there's a brave and loyal warrior like no other," Rustlestar muttered to himself, failing to see the cat in the crowd.

Rustlestar would've prefered not to have an escort on his way to ShadowClan, but he knew he had no real say in the matter. "You need only to make sure your clan is there," Rustlestar replied. "Thank you for granting me this meeting with you."

He then turned to his two escorts, with a spark in his eye. "Right, I hope you two won't mind me setting the pace? I'm in a bit of a hurry, you see..." And with that he was off, striding back into ThunderClan territory, three foxlengths ahead of his newly acquired shadows.

(Rustlestar out!)