Not actually an update - I'm just splitting chapters again.

Rockpaw crouched stiffly at the side of the Thunderpath, until Blossompaw nudged him away. The reek of the monster that had passed seconds ago still clung onto the air. It had nearly flattened Rockpaw as it sped by, its unnaturally shiny, red pelt gleaming silver in the light of the full moon.

Two moons had passed since Rockpaw's, Treepaw's, Blossompaw's and Skunkpaw's apprentice ceremony. Since his and Skunkpaw's punishments had ended, Owlstar let them come to the Gathering. Quite some time before, Owlstar had called out the names of who would go to the awaiting AirClan cats:

"Foxnose, Crystalwing, Blossompaw, Mousefoot, Scarclaw, Greyshard, Frosttail, Icefang, Snowtail. Wolflungs, Rosesong, Morningheart, Redsplodge, Dapplewind, Halfheart, Treepaw. Skunkpaw and... Rockpaw."

Littlepaw had been brooding that he couldn't come, and his newly apprenticed sister reminded him gently, "We're too young to go, Littlepaw. Now, let's stay up all night and wait for them to come back!"

Rockpaw remembered promising them, that he'd tell the pair of kits all about the Gathering afterwards. Briarpaw had started squealing with excitement, while Littlepaw showed his happiness with a wide smile.

The chosen Clan cats were trotting all around Rockpaw, bordered on one side by the dirt Thunderpath, and on the other by the musty-smelling Twoleg farm fence. Rockpaw and his sisters were padding at the back of the group, with Skunkpaw not far in front of them. He was chatting with Icefang about his apprenticeship so far.

Pff! I bet he's showing off how he catches way more prey than me. At least I can say that I'm a better fighter than him. Rockpaw thought angrily. With the bitter taste of jealousy on his tongue, he remembered how just yesterday Skunkpaw was telling Morningheart's one-and-a-half-moon-old litter what a good hunter he was. In his mind's eye, Rockpaw saw Risingkit fluffing up with admiration and Lightkit asking question after question. Flamekit, however, just sat there, and listened to every word, no doubt planning to alter it to be about him.

Then, another thought flew into Rockpaw's mind, swift as one of those eagles circling around the tips of the mountains. He barely felt the dust tickling his muzzle, as it rose with his every step. Or the murmur of conversation from his Clanmates. About half a moon ago, Mousefoot had taken Rockpaw battle training near the MoonRock clearing. When it was his turn to mock fight against Treepaw, he easily beat her, flipping her onto her back and holding her down with one paw on her neck, another on her stomach. Then, Skunkpaw came, hissing weakly but fighting as hard as he could with claws sheathed. Rockpaw had slid under Skunkpaw's belly, flicked his legs from under him and leaped onto the black-and-white tom's back. Mousefoot had patronised him how 'ungraceful and messy' his fighting was, 'not using the correct techniques'.

Oh! I could've pulled out his whiskers there and then and showed him 'correct technique'! Rockpaw growled silently.

Suddenly, his paws felt wet. Rockpaw looked down to see he was standing almost belly-deep in water. The Clan had reached the Twoleg stream that fed into the lake. Apparently, Rockpaw was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the Clan turning sharply and walked right into the fast-slowing stream. From behind him, Rockpaw heard Treepaw sigh with undisguised exasperation. He whipped around and flashed out a paw. A stream of silvery-blue droplets soared through the air.

Rockpaw cringed as they fell and scattered onto the grey tabby pelt of Mousefoot.

"Owlstar wants you. She's up at the front." He growled, lashing his tail and shaking off his pelt.

Rockpaw barely stopped himself from splashing Mousefoot again. He nodded and pushed past him, through the tightly-backed crowd of cats.

Only about two cats could walk next to each other here. Rockpaw looked up and saw a jumble of glistening, grey planks above his head. They were arranged to hold what looked like the Thunderpath above the Clan. The wide stream flowed under the tunnel, leaving a narrow strip of overgrown earth on either side.

Rockpaw slid between Frosttail and the dull brown wall of the tunnel. The white tom growled as Rockpaw soaked his pelt with water. Mousefoot followed Rockpaw, with Blossompaw and another cat, Rockpaw couldn't clearly see, behind.

The tunnel smelt of dampness and rotten fish. It went on for two or three more fox-lengths, before the land seemed to fall away. Every so often, a deafening rumble sounded above Rockpaw. The grey planks of Twoleg stuff would creak, their rust-streaked, twig-like branches rattling. Rockpaw had enough sense to know that every time this happened, a monster was roaring along the Thunderpath. Not only because of the actual Thunderpath being overhead, but also because, every time, a foul smell sunk deep into Rockpaw's scent glands. The fumes of the monsters were like smoke to his throat, acrid and choking.

A mouse-length ahead if him, Rockpaw saw his mother's fawn-coloured tail disappearing between Scarclaw and Foxnose. He shouldered his way between the two toms and grunted as he came to trot beside Owlstar.

She glanced at him and said cheerfully, "Come on. It's your first Gathering!"

Only because you're a bossy old furball.

Scarclaw squeezed onto Rockpaw's other side as the ground widened. The tabby meowed happily, nudging Rockpaw, "Cheer up!"

Shut up.

Rockpaw could barely feel the long grass when it touched his fur. It didn't come anywhere near his skin. With a surge of triumph, Rockpaw saw Owlstar wince as a long strand of wild barley slapped her shoulder. Her wound from a recent fight against a fox was still partially open, a sign that she wasn't taking her 'rest to make it heal' assignment from Crystalwing seriously. Soon after, Scarclaw hissed quietly as a cattail brushed over his face. A bit of its fluff dusted over Scarclaw's muzzle - he blew it off.

Rockpaw heard him mutter to no-one in particular, "You would have thought, that we would have flattened them by now, storming through here once a moon!"

Grimly, Rockpaw asked Owlstar, wondering why he though the Gatherings were so amazing, "What even is the point of Gatherings?"

Pain shot up through Rockpaw's back paw, as Mousefoot, stumbling, trod on it and snarled, "What do you mean 'the point'? Gatherings have been around, ages before the great Firestar!"

Owlstar mewed in her calming, gentle voice, "It's alright, Mousefoot, he's young - he'll learn."

Young! I'm eight moons old, not two! And I've mastered every one of your stupid fighting moves. I've even come up with my own! Rockpaw was sorely tempted to show them one of his moves. Like his Double Twist-Turn ­- where you slide under an opponent's belly from the front, twist around, as if you're going to go out from their left (your right), but double take and shoot out from behind them and leap onto their back. They won't even know where you are until your claws pierce their skin!

Mousefoot hissed back, slightly cooler than before, "I sure hope so."

Rockpaw's ear twitched when Scarclaw flicked it with his black-tipped tail. The brown tabby mewed, in the most annoying way, "Gatherings are held, so the Clans can meet in peace. So all five Clans can set aside their differences for one night and become friends."

Rockpaw sniffed, "But why do we need friends in different Clans? I thought it was against the Warrior Code."

Ha! I bet even Blossompaw wouldn't be able to think of a comeback. Rockpaw thought, self-satisfied.

However, Owlstar replied quite quickly, not recognising the tone of Rockpaw's mew, "Yes and no. During Gatherings, you find out as much insider information as you can about the other Clans, without revealing too much about your own Clan. You form alliances with other cats, that can be used when we're in trouble, or against them, when we're in battle. Do you understand?"

"So-so."

Mousefoot snorted with impatience, pushing in front of Rockpaw. He paused to let Mousefoot go ahead, and heard Blossompaw mew very quietly indeed, "So excited!"

This is one of her off days... Rockpaw thought. Ever since he could remember from his time as kits, Blossompaw's muteness worked like those thin, metal Twoleg trees that gave off a bright, orange light. Some nights, they shone blazingly and unnaturally, lighting up the area for many fox-lengths around; other nights, they just sat there, fizzing and winking, giving off a faint, yellowish glow. It was the same with Blossompaw, some days she could talk almost normally, maybe a bit quietly but fairly normally. Other times, she could barely form full sentences. She would break off and miss some words, all the time mewing in the faintest whisper. Rockpaw could tell it annoyed her - it was as if, when she wanted to talk to others, her throat would tighten up and she would croak like a toad.

Yet, that didn't stop Rockpaw from feeling angry. He turned his head around to see Treepaw and Blossompaw walking side-by-side, while Skunkpaw's black-and-white pelt shone almost fully black behind them.

Rockpaw fell back to pad beside them and meowed, "Why? You have already been to a Gathering." He added sarcastically, "Oh wait, two Gatherings."

Blossompaw looked completely dumbstruck. Rockpaw saw her staring at him, from the corner of his eye. She let her tail drop down in her disappointment. A light splosh told Rockpaw it had fallen into the stream, which, even in the Greenleaf heat, was still high up. Rockpaw hooted with almost silent laughter, not wanting to alert anybody else. In front of him, he saw Foxnose, Mousefoot, Scarclaw and Owlstar talking about something Rockpaw couldn't hear over the gurgling of the stream. Behind him, he smelt Greyshard, Snowtail and Morningheart, and heard them chatting about kits.

Treepaw brushed her muzzle against Blossompaw's shoulder. The light brown tabby turned to Rockpaw and half-growled, "Don't be so rude! Blossompaw probably wants to see the other medicine cats again." She turned to Blossompaw, most likely expecting a confirmation.

Blossompaw nodded and whispered, "Yes. I really- talk- Poppyspark."

Rockpaw mewed blankly, flicking his tail tip, "Yeah, yeah."

They travelled in silence, as they reached the mouth of the Twoleg tunnel. Rockpaw saw that, where he thought the ground ended, the stream tumbled down into a frothy, noisy waterfall about two fox-lengths high. The overgrown ground either side of the stream crumbled into a steep, rocky cliff. Rockpaw followed Owlstar and the others down the cliff, leaping onto the narrow ledges. Owlstar lead the Clan a few tail-lengths from the shore.

Ahead of the crowd of cats, five hills rose up, creating a hollow. That was where the five Clans met for the full moon Gathering. Rockpaw climbed up the hill, with his sisters on one side and Skunkpaw on the other. When they reached the tip of the hill, Scarclaw stopped and Foxnose crouched down next to Owlstar. He murmured something in her ear, and she nodded. Then she rose to her paws and called to her Clan, "Let's go!"

They sped over the brow of the hill and down into the clearing below. Rockpaw gasped, though he didn't want to. The giant circle of grass shone silver, while the more cats than Rockpaw had ever seen before, milled around, mewing and sharing tongues. The full moon hung in the sky, scattered with stars that looked like sparkling dandelion fluff. On the opposite side of the clearing, a giant, leafy oak stood tall, with an owl hole high up between its branches. Something pale blue shone inside of the hole, as if the moon itself, but smaller, sat in that hollow.

As they reached the bottom of the hill, the AirClan cats started to spread around, greeting their friends from other Clans. Only Owlstar's little group stayed together. A couple of tail-lengths ahead of them, a spotted blue tabby was chatting with a brindle-coloured she-cat, who left when she saw them coming.

"Good evening, Rainfeather." Owlstar dipped her head politely.

"Hmm? Oh, hello, Owlstar." The blue tabby meowed, nodding back to Owlstar. Then, Rainfeather seemed to notice Scarclaw, and she snarled, narrowing her eyes, "Greetings, Scarclaw..."

Rockpaw felt a little bit angry that this she-cat was speaking to his father like that. He whispered to their group in general, "What's she so worked up about?"

The brown tom felt his heart miss a beat as Scarclaw whipped around and hissed, "She's the LakeClan medicine cat. Show some respect!"

But she just...! Oh, fox dung! Rockpaw thought angrily. He had just defended his father, and Scarclaw just told him off. Again.

Rainfeather's blue-green eyes gleamed with malice, "I should have known your kit would be so impolite."

Scarclaw looked heart broken for a moment, but he shook it off and growled, "But... Grrrr!"

Owlstar nudged him away and mewed, looking very worried, "Let's go, Scarclaw." After they took a few paces from Rainfeather, who was still glaring at Scarclaw, she said, "I don't know why Rainfeather dislikes you so much."

Scarclaw rolled his eyes, "Dislike is a weak word. She hates me!"

Rockpaw saw his mother stare long and hard at Scarclaw before murmuring, "I wonder why."

Very faintly, but it definitely happened, Scarclaw muttered something like, "I only you knew."

Rockpaw's mind whirled, he had never heard Scarclaw talk to Owlstar like that. It was probably nothing, though.

Remembering Littlepaw' first request, Rockpaw turned to Treepaw and asked, "So, who's Deadstar?"

Word Count: 2271