"We are at war with Pineclan" ANNOUNCEMENT

[Rolo]

Volepelt strode towards Talking Rock, a hint of serene panic clouding his thoughts.
Fogclan was in danger.

His instincts, his council, his dreams had told him that. For some time now, he had sensed that the filth and threat provided by that clan had been increasing, but now it had reached crisis point.

Concerning reports had come back from his council about one of the Pineclan border patrols, and Volepelt had been appalled to hear what had occurred. The Pineclanners had gathered around the border in increasing numbers during the encounter, gathering their power together to launch a verbal and mental attack on his clan. As reported by Tawnywhisker, they had stood and pointedly insulted Fogclan and their way of life, suggesting that they abused their apprentices and were indecent in moral, before threatening violence. The idea made his mouth curl into a snarl. How dare the heathens suggest his clan were less just than theirs? Especially when their entire way of life was based on lies and dirtiness.

And the threat of violence was disturbing. Volepelt thanked the stars that Tawnywhisker and Thrushflower were there to stop it, but he knew that threats of violence were only the beginning. He had no doubt that the idea would become a reality.

In fact, he was certain of it. Last night, amidst his pain and mourning, Starclan had reached it's paw into his mind and had placed a message there. His dreams had been vivid, filled with bright lights and crippling darkness. He caught pictures of cats he once knew out of the corner of his eyes, but when he turned to face them they turned to mist in the air. Whispers had swirled around him, inaudible but eerie. And then, just as he thought he was lost in a forest of blackness, a familiar pale form appeared in front of him.

“Miststar!” He had purred, mewing like an abandoned kit whose mother had just returned. A sense of peace, longing and joy had overwhelmed him, as he rushed forward to embrace his beloved, his leader.

But as he approached, her face ceased to be welcoming and twisted into a snarl. Her eyes were fury, rage. Worse, her maw was bloody, her face wounded, her beauty tainted.

“Why, Volepelt? Why are you failing me? Why have you allowed such filth to exist in the forest? Don't you see the corruption? The corruption that has begun to gnaw at the clan boundaries and, worse, from within?” She had spoken to him so clearly, so ferally, it made his stomach twist to think about it.

He had stopped dead, the elation fading. Cold entered his heart, crushing him, making him whimper. It still remained.

“I've tried, Miststar, my love. I've tried, but th-”

Miststar's eyes narrowed, “There is no tried. There are no buts. You either succeed or you fail. You, Volepelt, are failing.”

She dashed forth and stood above him. With a yowl, she bought her claws down upon him, ripping his flesh painfully. Volepelt recalled that this had shocked him. His first instinct had been to fight back, but it was soon overtaken by the strict training he had received. He had stood stock still and received the punishment, but he no longer enjoyed the pain like it normally did. It did not freed him, it attached shackles to his paws and placed weight on his back. He was failing his clan, drowning in responsibility. He had wanted to curl up and join Miststar here, in Starclan. And worse, he was confused. What had he done wrong? Even as a tainted apprentice, he'd always known when he'd broken a rule... but now, now it was like his mind itself was being punished for weakness.

And then she had stopped and had looked at him sternly.

“Do not delay further, Volepelt. The forest must be cleansed or the darkness will swell until it engulfs you. And you shall fall.”

Volepelt shuddered, his mind turning back to the issue at hand. He would act now. He would act while those invisible wounds still ached, while he remembered he had to be strong.

Standing on Talking Rock, he yowled and called the clan together for a clan meeting. The clan members quickly gathered, aware that they would gain a sinwound if they ignored his call.

“Cats of Fogclan, I have received instruction from Starclan.” he yowled plainly, his eyes fixed on the sky. His breathing was heavy, “And they have told me that Fogclan's plight is failing. We are not strict enough on ourselves and our eyes stray from the stars. We are tainted by those within us and around us. No longer can we live as beacons of light in the darkness, we must spread forth and brighten those shadows. If we do not, we will succumb to it.”

He looked down at the cats, brow furrowed and tail lashing, “Yesterday, one of our patrols were greeted by an oversized Pineclan patrol. They insulted our way of life, degraded our morals and accused us of neglect. Worse, they threatened violence against our clan. Starclan had told me we cannot stand for this. We cannot sit by while they gather their forces and wait for them to make the first move. No, we must attack the darkness and make it pure, make it pure in Miststar's name!”

He looked down at his council members. He had not spoken to them about this before his announcement, but he believed they'd follow him. This was Starclan's will, and therefore must be theirs.

“So, Fogclan, from this day forth, we are at war with Pineclan.”

[Cloudbat]

Volepelt's yowl at first irritated and then concerned the she-cat stirring from her nap. It's never good when he sounds that urgent. Oh please, let it not another punishment... It was much worse than that. As the calico duly filed up to her customary place beside the highrock, she averted her eyes so that no one could see the contempt and hatred in them. StarClan. StarClan, if they had not turned their backs on FogClan for the blasphemy that been allowed to grow, would never have given Volepelt instructions anymore than they would have told Miststar to take over. His words...his words almost hurt to listen to. Yes, she heard things just like them every day, but these were a new kind of pain. It was the pain of guilt. This was where FogClan was now, and she could have stopped it, only she had had power akin to the deputy and leader once. Brightnose dared to speak for the first time in moons, her voice dull and weary. "How many of our own will be hurt in this crusade, Volepelt?" She asked quietly. "How much blood need we spill before it becomes pure? I do not doubt that your efforts shall work - too well, in fact. But do you plan to do? Kill all the unworthy? There will none left to convert if we do." I will not treat the wounds of those who follow you anyway, was her unspoken protest. They can suffer for every pointless drop of blood they have spilled. One day I hope to sink my own claws into your pelt if someone else does not do it first. You are a bane upon the land, Volepelt the Cleanser, but you are mortal and one day you will die. I hope I am there to see it. To watch the righteous burn. [bg=090806][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[ambird]

Upon seeing Volepelt make his advance to the Talking Rock, Thrushflower quickly made her way over to hear what he had to say. If she had anything to say about it, she hoped he would address the recent atrocity called those sinful Pineclanners. They had threatened her Clanmates, spit on her way of life, and through that, Thrushflower herself. She would not stand for that. As far as she was concerned, Pineclan had shown their true colors and now it was time for Fogclan to do the same. Show the rest of the forest they wouldn't stand for this disloyalty to the Code and Starclan. Promptly she sat down, and looked earnestly up to Volepelt. She knew she could trust him to do what was just. Looking around her, Thrushflower saw the faces of her Clanmates. All looking beat down and tired. Obviously from those heathens. Look at what they had down to the poor cats! Even the blood filth. At a time like this, she couldn't categorize them as lesser. For now. Pineclan was too much of a threat to continue to hate on them. But once the demon-heathen problem was dealt with...they might as well say their prayers. She purred contentedly to herself. A cleansing. Of both non-believers and grime in the bloodlines. What a glorious day that would be. And all it would take to clean the forest would be some of the finest warriors...she thought to herself. As she listened, she felt almost giddy. Finally. Taking a stand and proving to Meadowclan and Streamclan that they had been wrong in their premonitions that Pineclan had been a good idea. A Clan of non-believers? It never would have survived! And now her righteous leader was giving her the go ahead to go and cleanse their impure blood of this forest? This was too good to be true! Thrushflower looked to the calico she-cat who had spoken up. Brightnose. What a laugh! Convert? What in the name of Starclan was she thinking? Pineclan had been an out for all those who didn't believe. And here Brightnose was, offering conversion! Had she forgotten who they were talking about? The cats who laughed in their faces at the border, those who had thought their way of life cruel and unforgiving! They were wrong. It was not Fogclan who was "cruel and unforgiving" but those disloyal freaks who dare call Thrushflower and the Council monsters! They were there to keep peace withing Fogclan, and to make sure every cat kept to Starclan's righteous path for them. "Converting them? They've proven they cannot be persuaded to the light. Instead, the Pineclanners," she spit the word out distastefully, ", have comfortably found themselves in the dark, with the rest of the unworthy. They have stated their opinions on not only us, but of Starclan as well. If we tried conversion, they would only rebel, and that would soon lead to their demise either way." she scoffed at the calico. Was she mad? The solution was simple: let their pools of blood be a message to every other doubter. Side with us, or you'll be cleansed of this world. And what better answer than to kill those who didn't believe in Starclan? After their deaths, they would be greeted an entrance to the Dark Forest and soon after days of wandering alone and lost they would realize they were sorely wrong. With a new glint in her eye, Thrushflower looked to Brightnose, as if daring her to comeback at her. [bg=d1d1c9][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

So my leader won't listen, but one of the saddest cats in the forest calls me out on it. Well, I shall answer her. Many among the rebels hated Thrushflower. Heck, Brightnose was willing to bet a moon of prey that even her fellow Council members probably disliked or feared her. But all the calico could muster for the hateful she-cat was pity and contempt. She remembered when Thrushflower had been found as a kit; she'd only recently joined FogClan herself. Yes, the she cat had been a stuck-up little miss, but she hadn't always been made of loathing and spite. It hadn't been her fault that the other apprentices had been dolts and decided heritage was so very important. Indeed, Brightnose could almost see a bit of herself in the she-cat. A longing for power. Escape. Pride. Duty. So it was with sorrow more than dislike that she quietly stepped down and padded up to the she-cat, sitting in front her and gazing at her with inscrutable hazel eyes. "StarClan requires live cats to be believers, Thrushflower. All cats have a chance at redemption. Do you not have faith in the conviction of your own beliefs to be spread to others, so that they will know StarClan's love? For StarClan is love, is it not? What greater gift can we give them than to show that we alone do not give up on those who most deserve our help?" Her words would probably mean nothing to the crazed she-cat, but she would know she had tried. Every pair of broken wings needed to be mended. [bg=090806][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[ambird]

Slightly taken aback, Thrushflower swallowed hard and mustered her reply. How dare she use Starclan against her? Wasn't that--couldn't that be claimed as a sin itself? Never mind that, she thought irritably. Everyone deserved Starclan's love, eh? Even the idiots in Pineclan, who had made it quite clear, that they didn't want it? And besides that, it had been just like those apprentices had told her in her apprenticeship! Pure, clean and honest blood is the only thing that mattered within the Clans. She knew this to be true, how, you ask? The signs were everywhere! Not trusting non-Forestclanners with jobs only "true Clan cats" could do! Giving them the evil eye if they dare speak of pasts they mourned of! These reasons were why she herself had denied her blood, heritage and old life. If she wanted to rise to power, and she oh-so craved it, then a pesky little thing called being...being...an ugly mutt of a kitty-pet/rogue mix. No! She was no longer that frail excuse of a cat! Her family was her Clan, not that horrid rogue and that squeamish kitty-pet! They had never shown her true love. They hadn't even wanted her. But the Clan had! And they were all she needed. Love. The love of Starclan, eh? "What have they done to deserve such an honor, Brightnose? Tell me that! You think that they just deserve it, with no strings attached? Pah! That's like assuming a queen will love her kit just because she--she gave birth to it! Never make assumptions about ones loyalties or their love. Cats act this way, and I'm as sure as can be that Starclan is the same. They don't yearn to keep company with those who've doubted their existence for years. I would think differently if any of them had an inkling of conversion left in them, but they've been filled to the brim with lies and misconceptions about our ancestors, so their as good as sentenced to an eternity in the Dark Forest." she stated, matter-of-factly. Not realizing she had stood up and her neck hair was raised, she sat down quickly, licking her paws, glaring at anyone who would dare question anything that she had just said. The quicker this was over, the sooner she could go out and unleash her anger at Brightnose in a positive manner--by tearing out the throats of those heathens who had started this mess in the first place. [bg=d1d1c9][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

"What have they done?" Brightnose said thoughtfully. "Well, what have we done? We are just cats, like PineClan. Why does one have to earn the right to work for StarClan's approval?" The calico grew quiet again as Thrushflower undoubtedly referred to her own birth. "I assume nothing, Thrushflower. I know. I was born as a kittypet. I learned herbs, and in time, I also learned of StarClan. They did not reject me because of where I drew my first breath, which I had no control over. They welcomed me and told me of their nature because I wished to learn. I had no knowledge of them before then." How well she remembered the days when she did walk among StarClan from time to time. It had been rare, but it had happened. Brightnose had formed the impression that time worked differently for them than it did on earth. She listened to Thrushflower's indignant words - it made sense in a way, but as she could not state her true intentions and beliefs she had to work with her supposed ones. "Fair point, but you assume that StarClan has the limitations of mortal cats. Isn't our philosophy that those who ascend to the stars shed those?" She smiled. Of course it was. "We all speak of StarClan's wisdom. They might even appear to PineClan differently than they appear to us. Lies, misconceptions? No. I have walked and spoken with their medicine cats; on the contrary some of them have been curious even if they don't strictly believe. They do not hate StarClan. They simply live without them; or might not even, like I said, StarClan may appear differently to them." She smiled and her black-tufted tail twitched. Perhaps it's slightly sadistic of me, but I'm looking forward to how she takes that. [bg=090806][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[ambird]

Thrushflower listened to Brightnose, of course. She was the medicine cat. But it was times like these that she questioned her loyalty to the cause. So they saw Starclan for something else, did they? That no one must earn the right to be loved by Starclan? She purred contentedly at this, inner feelings of contempt shown plainly through her eyes. Silly, silly Brightnose. Kittypet and proud, hmm? Well, that just wasn't how she saw things. "I admire you, Brightnose," she admirably, her voice coated with sugary lies, "Being so brave as to sit here and gab away about your heritage. Proud of your kittypet blood. Because, I assure you, it mustn't mean much to you if you flaunt it around. Dirty blood. I'm sure you're ever-so pleased. And Starclan accepted you for it? That's because you were openly willing to convert to Clan life. Pineclanner's? They are a whole other story." she said matter-of-factly. Frankly, she didn't want non-believers given a chance into their way of life. They didn't deserve it. All they had ever done was say their foolish opinions of how they don't believe--and are proud of it! They filled their kits heads with lies and probably--no, they did--tell false stories of Fogclan! But no. Pineclan would be wiped clean. Fresh start. Extermination was the solution. She grinned malevolently at the thought of a new generation of Pineclan. Of true believers. "But ah, it was a misconception. Starclan is Starclan, case closed. Whatever these Pineclanner's are seeing is all an illusion, or a very well concocted lie. That just proves my point that they cannot be trusted. Why would non-believers ever make any effort to join us if they were content with their lives? And even if subconsciously they did yearn to convert, their physical forms and soul have decided their too good for us. I fully support raging war against them. Knock sense into the young ones, and make sure the older ones can never again speak out against our ancestors." [bg=d1d1c9][atrb=width,500,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

Brightnose simply looked at Thrushflower, eyes full of impassiveness but a face full of pity. She spoke softly, but the contempt in her voice was unmistakable.

"Was that supposed to hurt me, Thrushflower? As it hurt a scared, lonely apprentice so many moons ago?"

She drew herself up, looking down on the rogue/kittypet mix. "Oh? Would you like me to tell them that? That they, ancient cats of unfathomable wisdom and extension over generations, are reduced to one definition and purpose by a cat who has the gall to think she knows better than one who speaks with them herself? StarClan are no one's tools for petty vengeance. You disgust me, Thrushflower, and I pity your grossly narrow mind. Shame on you. You disgrace the name of FogClan and all that we stand for, and I pray our ancestors grant you enlightenment."