nothing is broken...yet

[blue]

He nodded politely in response to Hawkfang, spending a moment wondering why the tom was not speaking up much. Was he letting Vixenfang run this show? Well, it would be logical. She was a deputy, after all. And it seemed she was better at making excuses and, well, speaking in general. Shrewclaw would easily admit that Vixenfang had a way with words, much unlike himself. She would make a fine leader, the tom mused, green eyes alight with thought. Would she be leader? This did seem to be her idea - and she was a deputy already. Vixenfang seemed like the natural choice for leading the new WindClan.

"I am glad for that, Vixenfang. I'd rather one be blunt than not." Blunt cats got things done. And yet... this bluntness was harsher than he ever could have imagined. The way she spoke now was like a claw driven straight into his heart, because it was so true, so painfully true. If they did this, they'd all be traitors. Viewed as outcast until the day WindClan became a part of the forest again. But did that matter? Did being called a traitor, backstabber, sinner matter? Shrewclaw didn't take a moment to think about this, because of course it wouldn't. Not if it meant being a part of WindClan, being a part of the moor. He would suffer through moons and moons of torment if it meant he could live here, in the open, away from trees and rivers and frogs and fish.

"I shall harden my heart, Vixenfang. I'm prepared for anything anycat could throw at me, I assure you this. They have no idea what it would mean to rekindled WindClan, and if they did, they would see no need to criticize your decision. Those who do fight, who argue, and who hate have never experienced the spark of the moor." He gazed upwards then, staring at the stars hidden by the day. What were their ancestors thinking, and were WindClan among them? He'd like to believe that they were smiling down at them, proud that some cats had balled up the courage and the will to do this, to bring back the cats of the moor, and complete the forest like it had not been for so long.

But Shrewclaw could not see StarClan now. "Vixenfang, I would renounce my ties to RiverClan now, if you asked. However, I ask that you don't. I ask that you wait, and allow ties to be severed gently, instead of ripped a part with claws. I do not know when you plan to initiate this all, and I assume it would be soon, but sometime would be nice."

[{Otter}]

Well, she had done all she felt she needed to do to dissuade him. Not that she wanted him to change his mind. But rather now than later, when the full effect of their actions came crashing down on them. Any cat to join WindClan had to be loyal to WindClan. Not RiverClan, not ShadowClan, not ThunderClan. WindClan. Or else all would be lost. She believed Shrewclaw spoke the truth. He was under no false illusions about what would happen, for he had spoken of hardening himself against the response of his Clanmates. And that left Hawkfang, who she already trusted in.

"Hawkfang, I know I asked you this before, but might you restate your interest in this plan?" she mewed quietly, her amber gaze sweeping over to the quiet warrior. He was truly being rather quiet, and she hoped to StarClan he wasn't second-guessing their plot. "I do not want to be paranoid, but it is hard, with a plan like this one. Will you, Hawkfang, when the time comes, renounce RiverClan and become one with WindClan?" Goodness, those were nice, flowy words coming out of her mouth! Strange, uncharacteristic, but nice. Maybe she could be a leader, or something.

And then there was the matter of timing. She thought of this while waiting for Hawkfang to reply. They could not just disappear without a trace and suddenly appear in the moorlands. That would be terribly cruel to their Clanmates. No, it had to be at a time when most of the cats of the Clans would hear what they had to say. Their reasoning. So that no one had the excuse of being "mistaken." The answer was really quite clear, though she had a hard time admitting it to herself, and so she blocked it from her mind until Hawkfang responded.

[tenacious]

Hawkfang’s tail curled up with pleasure as Shrewclaw spoke. But, was he ready to be called a traitor? The brown tom knew it would hurt, but he would run through a forest being eaten by fire if it meant WindClan could be revived. If it meant they could survive. He flicked an ear as Vixenfang addressed him, meeting her gaze, understanding quite well her precautions.

The elegant words flowed from her mouth as if she had been reviewing them for quite some time and the small warrior dipped his head, “You’re precautions are understood, Vixenfang,” he murmured before carrying on, “I do not belong among the cats of the river. The moor is more of my home already. If rebuilding WindClan means enduring the hatred of other cats, I am quite prepared; you will never have the full acceptance of every other feline in this forest while you live.” The last part was more for himself then anything, a reminder, because it was quite true. Not every feline would agree with you- what mattered was that you, and those affected, agreed.

“When the time comes, I will renounce all ties to my former Clan.”

The words sounded like a contract of sorts; he had said he would do it before, but it was different with Shrewclaw here, as if they had a witness. And he had been a witness to Shrewclaw’s words. Hawkfang shivered- or perhaps it was simply because of the cold. He wasn’t really a thick-furred cat. But the tom could handle the cold for now.

He pushed away the thoughts of the weather and focused on when they could leave. Shrewclaw was right; it’d be best to sever ties gently, rather then quickly and viciously. That may only leave more hurt and anger behind. The two combined almost always ended in revenge. No, they would have to leave so every cat knew, or at least so every cat would be able to know. The tom’s blue eyes narrowed as he stared at Vixenfang, wondering if she was pondering the same thing as he.

[{Otter}]

Body relaxed completely as Hawkfang spoke the fateful words. Only a paranoid fool would worry about his loyalty now. Vixenfang was no fool, and she would do her best to not be paranoid. Fear of being stabbed in the back would tear any cat apart, especially a leader of a new Clan. No, she would trust her cats unless their loyalty proved to be a lie.

A soft smile rested upon her as she stepped forward and pressed her forehead against Hawkfang's, and then Shrewclaw's. "We're in for a long, hard trial," she mewed solemnly. "But I'm glad to have you two by my side." Without them, she'd perhaps have given up on her dream. But no, with even only two cats behind her, she'd press onward.

And then there was the problem of when and where. Shrewclaw had said some more time would be nice. Well, he'd have about half a moon. For she realized, as she stood there before her first two warriors with the bitter moor wind blasting agaisnt her pelt, that there was only one option. Announce their departure at a Gathering, when all the Clans were present, when most of the cats were there. If any cat after that claimed to have "misunderstood", they were putting the blame not on WindClan, but on whatever cat had twisted the story. Even the angriest warrior wouldn't really be mousebrained enough to admit to "misunderstanding". They would label themselves as idiots.

The only problem she had with it was that it truly put a time limit on her plans. It set a reachable, feelable time for when she'd make her big betrayal, and that frigthened her. Not that she wanted to stay in ThunderClan longer, but she did feel like the past several days had been a dream, and she was only now waking up to the reality. This was real.

"The next Gathering," she mewed after a moment, glancing over at the two as she gauged their reacitons. "I know it seems soon, but RiverClan and ShadowClan will fight over the moors soon enough, and if we wait longer, we run the risk of one of those two Clans gaining the moors. It's harder to claim a land that is already claimed, than one that is being disputed over." She hoped they understood. She hoped they agreed. If they didn't allow RiverClan and ShadowClan time to fight, their actions would be better received. For, by raising WindClan, they put to rest the dispute over who owned the moors, and saved the lives that would have otherwise been lost by the battles to come.

[tenacious]

Ooc: Cats are weird. They can press heads together and it isn’t creepy. Do that with a person and some will find you very strange.

Bic: Yes, they were in for one of the hardest and longest trials a cat would ever experience. If any cat took this the wrong way, if they went about it in a cowardly fashion, slinking around, they would have more warriors furious with them. More cats who would want nothing more then to rip the traitors apart. Hawkfang shivered slightly as Vixenfang continued on. He, too, was glad to have Shrewclaw and Vixenfang beside him and whatever other cat that came along. The two warriors before him had ideas that they could teach to WindClan as it reformed; every cat would, he realized.

He began to puzzle over Shrewclaw’s word, for it would, indeed, be nice to have some time. Hawkfang did not want to just leave suddenly, like a fog that was on the land one day and gone the next. It would be cowardly. It wouldn’t help. And it would hurt. The tom knew his total loyalty would lie with WindClan, already did, but that didn’t change the fact that he had spent all of his life, so far, within RiverClan! Not even StarClan themselves could ignore this fact. It was like pulling out a thorn, Hawkfang realized. If they left too fast, there would be much pain and soreness. If they left slowly, did not just yank, the pain would be less and the soreness would vanish.

“The next Gathering.”

Hawkfang’s blue eyes widened with surprise. It would give them time, yes, for the Gathering was not for…another half moon or so. But would it give them enough time? Vixenfang carried on with an explanation and the surprise vanished from Hawkfang’s eyes. She was right- Rookstar had already taken measurements to protect his own territory. The young warrior did not know of his leader’s plans for battle, but he knew that the old tom had them. If they waited too long, and the moor was claimed, they would probably fail to retrieve it. Or they would succeed and have the Clan that lost it breathing down their necks, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness so they could attack and destroy.

Them leaving would be a sore blow to the Clan leaders. He could picture the three cats looking down upon those pledging their new alliance to WindClan, a mixture of emotions burning in their eyes. Oh, it would be a sore blow, with plenty of warriors to witness- but that would work for them. No furious leader could twist any words spoken to create a vicious lie. No warrior could, either. The truth would be out and the truth could not be turned. Hawkfang knew that attacks occurred at Gatherings sometimes, but if StarClan somehow supported WindClan, such would be less likely; surely, with obvious support and the full moon above their heads, cats would not lung at the new WindClan felines?

Ha.

Sometimes, Hawkfang had too much faith in others.

[{Otter}]

They said nothing, which might have normally caused Vixenfang some concern, but it so happened that at that moment she realized just how low the sun was getting. They had been here a long time. Surely RiverClan was missing two of their warriors, and surely ThunderClan was missing their deputy. They needed to maintain this secrecy if ever they were to commit their act of atrocity.

"We should go," she mewed finally, nodding from Shrewclaw to Hawkfang. "Return to your camp. Be a RiverClanner for a half a moon more, and see if you can't find others in your Clan who might be interested in the idea of a WindClan." It would be tricky business. Keeping the reality from Shrewclaw before they knew he would be up for it had been hard enough. "I will do the same in ThunderClan. And if you do come up here again before the next Gathering," something she was sure they both would do, "then try and search for the old WindClan camp. We'll need it." Especialy with the weather. Leafbare was nowhere near finished, and the snow would only fall heavier from hereon out.

Glancing from Hawkfang to Shrewclaw once more, she mewed, "Farewell, WindClanners," and raced away towards ThunderClan. Her home for only half a moon longer. She wouldn't hunt on the way, she decided, unless a rabbit sprang right in front of her. ThunderClan needed all of their warriors for patrols.

((Too bad she's gonna come home to find out ShadowClan's attacking x.x))