This was only the second gathering that Sorrellark has been invited to. Last time, she had been a bright-eyed apprentice, looking to impress her entire clan with how well-behaved she would be. None of the other cats seemed concerned about that now.
She had sat herself smack-dab in the middle of a cluster of WindClan cats, a move that she now wished she had been given the foresight to avoid. Between her own worries, and the clamor of the cats all around her, it was difficult for her to even think straight. Her tail twitched back and forth, agitated, no matter how much she hoped to hide it. She told herself that it was only natural; that of course, she would feel so unnerved, when the heavens were quite literally falling to pieces. StarClan, no StarClan, she'd never been entirely sure. It had never mattered, until now.
Somewhere in the crowd, one of the cats yelled something. It was enough to startle the young warrior back out of her thoughts, and other cats around seemed to feel similarly, as they quietened down. The leaders seemed to notice the lull in conversation, and they took advantage of it. Sorrellark turned her eyes up at the five leaders above them. It seemed that the medicine cats had something to say.
Gifts from StarClan.
Her blood ran cold.
She couldn't put a date on when the flashes had started. It was simply one of those 'it's-always-been-that-way' things, disregarded by her parents as the whimsical tales of a kit with too much free time. It only made sense that nobody would believe a story like hers, that she could press her head against a boulder and 'feel' the cold waves that had once splashed up against it, without really knowing that they were waves. It sounded like a story that elders would tell. In some strange way, she had come to believe that, herself. That it was just her imagination running wild. She wasn't really receiving any memories; she was just thinking too much.
And yet, now, it felt like those assumptions had been uprooted. What if she wasn't just too deep inside of her own head? What if there really was something to this?
She didn't notice until now, but she had curled her tail around her paws, wide green eyes fixated on those who had given the prophecy. The cats around her were growing fearful again. Her ears pinned back, as she looked back and forth between the cats around her.
Somewhere from ShadowClan's area, a voice rang out. A cat claiming that they had a gift, too, just barely audible through the chorus of other cats. Sorrellark's ears perked up, twisting towards the source of the noise. She couldn't see the cat through the sea of fur, but she knew what she'd heard. One of them was brave enough to speak up. She was quiet at first, thoughts racing. If one spoke, then it was only fair for her to do the same.
"I..." Her voice wavered. She held the tone of a cat with no idea if what she was doing was right. She forced herself to sit up a little straighter.
"Me, I- I have a gift too!" She failed to clarify exactly what her gift was, as if turning on her own decision halfway through.
Trying to ignore the sensation of her parents' frightened gazes, she kept her eyes on the tree.
As soon as he had seen the crowd gathering on the island, Ambertuft had been careful to stay off to the sides. Regardless of where he sat, he made sure to keep a close eye on his mother and sisters, who had joined the groups of cats pestering the leaders with their questions. Whether he thought that was a good spot to be or not, it wasn't his place to judge them. They were scared. And as much as he tried to push the feeling down, he was afraid, too. Afraid of what would become of them if this was allowed to continue. Afraid of the fact that he could do nothing to stop it.
In the chaos that rippled through the clearing, one she-cat's shouting was enough to silence at least some of the cats. He recognized her as ThunderClan's medicine cat, though he wasn't certain of her name.
Whatever it was about her, the cats listened, at least for a time. The leaders began to speak, re-earning Ambertuft's attention. He had to remember this. It was important.
Ten cats, who had received some type of 'gift' from StarClan, who would lead the clans to victory. Or, alternatively, to destruction. He preferred to think about the former option. It was a prophecy, regardless, something that he'd only ever heard the elders in camp speak of. It wasn't a thing that he has ever expected to hear for himself.
Listening to the medicine cats, a slew of old memories began to surface; none particularly vicious, mostly just silly memories of pebbles and sticks being flung his way in jest by cats who had been apprentices alongside of him. Only, few of the objects ever made contact. Instead, it seemed, many of these items would drop to the ground before him, like they'd hit an invisible wall. As a kit, he had thought nothing of it. Now, moons later, and in this context, it was remarkably more concerning.
But it couldn't have been him. He shook away the thought. If StarClan was real, then they knew that his sisters needed him around. They would never pick him to go off on some dangerous journey.
Unless, of course, they would. He wasn't dead. He couldn't say how the minds of their ancestors worked. Perhaps they didn't care about the details, or they believed that this was more important.
The thought filled him up with a fizzling, nervous feeling. One that made him shuffle his paws, and lower his head. He couldn't leave them during a time like this, when his clan, and his sisters and mother needed him the most. His loyalties laid with his family, not with StarClan. For now, he planned to say nothing.