On the way to the gathering, Harrierclaw had stuck to the back of the group as they crossed the territory. He was mentally exhausted after the ordeal with his mother, and decided rather than taking up space at the front, it would be easier for everyone if the tabby-and-white tom tromped along at his own pace a fox-length behind. On the outside he seemed like his normal stoic self, straight face and pointed ears, but he still yearned for his nest. Once the gathering was over, the WindClanner was sure that he'd fall asleep as soon as his chin hit the grass, if not just walking on the way home. When they got to the Seastones, Harrierclaw sat off to one side, leaning way back on his haunches to keep himself alert as he looked at the crowd of cats- surprisingly smaller than he was used to. It took a moment before it hit that neither ShadowClan nor ThunderClan had arrived, and his tail thunked noisily on the stone behind him uneasily.