Originally Posted by Raven~ (Post 1093689) Larkstorm padded into the Gathering, looking around. She couldn’t see many cats. It looked like only ThinderClan and RiverClan had arrived so far. Good. That meant she would have time to mingle before everything began. She padded over to a RiverClan warrior, determined to be friendly. “Hi,” She meowed. “I’m Larkstorm. What’s your name?”

Yarrowshade was surprisingly on edge. Her pelt was scarred, covered in red scratches. After her little fight with Plumstorm, she'd managed to locate some spiderwebs to patch herself up. Whatever happened to Icicleripple wasn't reflecting good on her. On the other hand, she noticed, the little flame of a long-lost broken dream lit up in her. Now that there was no medicine cat, a new one needed to be chosen. This meant she might have a chance, a chance to finally do what she's always wanted to do. Nice, intellectual work. But she quickly tried to extinguish that flame. What did it matter?! You needed to be special to the leader and to StarClan, to be a sycophant. Yarrowshade had tried, stars forbid anyone knew, to be nice, long ago, to pretend she cared. But those cursed dead cats had ignored her in favor of some sniveling weaklings, just because they were "special". Sunhowl, who knows why they liked. Icicleripple, because she was the leader's little adopted family. All her life, she'd been overshadowed by the "protagonists" of life, chosen from birth for some great destiny. And she could never catch up to them. But there was an alternative, another side to the leaf. They could ignore your good deeds all they wanted but no one could ignore you if you ripped someone's throat out right before them. You didn't have to be chosen to be the villain. Or, so she thought. Because her rise to villainy wasn't going too well. She tried and tried and nothing came of it. She fought and no one complained. She was hated by most, yet the hatred was far from enough. Cats that had never spoken to Albatrossflare and Sweetsong hated them more than cats who had been harmed by her. She was sure of it. What was she doing wrong? Was she just...not good enough? She tried her best, didn't she? Her mentor, another one of those oh-so-important cats, had done her best to train her in proper work ethic, as much as they had hated each other. And when said mentor decided to turn to darkness, she still managed to overshadow Yarrowshade. In this moment, it seemed like, whatever she did, Yarrowshade just wasn't born with whatever was needed and would never catch up to those who were.
The dark tabby avoided eye contact with everyone. She hurt all over, not having received proper treatment. Normally, she might try and cause an issue with the other clans, maybe Stormtalon and Plumstorm, but today she didn't have the energy. They probably wouldn't notice her anyway. All the cats who hated her seemed a lot more interested in other cats. Whatever I do, I could never be hated as much as those other cats are loved. I guess, whoever they are, they were born with it too.

Originally Posted by Jackpot (Post 1093843) Shallowshiver | she/her | Thunderclan | Open The large black tabby followed the rest of her clan to the gathering, her broad-shouldered figure looking much like a looming shadow in the darkness that surrounded them. She was silent as she pushed into the clearing, ignoring the sand that had nestled between her toes. She could deal with that once she found a spot. Taking a brief look around, she noted that only ThunderClan and RiverClan had arrived so far. Well, she didnt really mind all that much. While she certainly liked WindClan, the longer ShadowClan was absent the better it was in her eyes. Drama was never her thing, and Dawnstar always seemed to bring an abundance of it with her wherever she went. While RiverClan was relatively disliked by Shallowshiver, the recent truce they had announced put some of her caution to rest. After several moons of conflict and hostility with the river cats, it was about time it all came to an end. Padding over to an opening near the front of the crowd, the black molly took a seat and immediately set to cleaning off her paws, scrunching up her nose as the grains of sand instead settled on her tongue. The texture frankly disgusted her, so as soon as she was done she spat out the sand and covered the granules is a shallow cover of dirt. Getting comfortable, she laid down on her side, orange eyes trained on the two present leaders while she waited for the other clans to arrive.