The sun was rising by the time Hawkstar returned to camp. He had spent the bulk of the hours since his declaration walking the territories, questioning his decision. It was too late to change anything now, yet the physical reaction his body was having suggested that he’d been hasty nonetheless. His heart was clenching and unclenching, and his legs shook. His stomach was flipping over itself, and his blood pounded in his ears as well.
Eventually he had decided it couldn’t matter now. He was still angry, as were many who had known and loved Lightwing. And Ospreyshadow was not alone in wanting his children with him. The ensuing battle would decide many things.
Hawkstar nodded to Briarstep and a few other Warriors, many of whom bore questioning looks regarding his all-nighter outside of camp. He did not see his mate, yet, but knew Chanterellefrost would also want answers. He knew of one easy way to get across the news to everyone, so he began the ascent up the rickety old tree that overlooked the camp.
“If all cats old enough to catch their own prey will please gather beneath the hightree for a Clan meeting!” He yowled, his voice carrying far across the ravine camp. Heads poked out of dens, and a crowd began to form beneath him. Silent, but for a few grumblings of the cold weather.
“I appreciate you all assembling at this time, and I wish I had better news for you all.” He meowed bitterly.
“We have all grieved for the loss of Lightwing. He was friendly, kind, and deserved a long life ending in retirement. And we have all stood by as Ospreyshadow’s kits have no doubt passed milestone after milestone of growth, and as their father he has been present for none of them.”
“It is for this reason that last night I met with Juncostar to discuss the situation. He still refuses to see reason, so I have decided that we are presented with no other option. Three days from now, we will battle ShadowClan for the right to the kits, and in Lightwing’s name, at the pointed stones. Those who wish to enlist, step forward. I will choose Warriors myself if necessary, but I would prefer volunteers of course.”
Hawkstar gritted his teeth as he was assaulted by a wall of protests from his Clan. He’d expected a fair amount of dissent, war was no pleasurable pastime. But an ugly necessity, a tool brought out when it was needed. And he believed some things were worth fighting for.
“I understand that fighting is no one’s first choice. It is hardly my own, but the alternative is to allow this to set future precedence for matters of half-Clan births. If we back down, it will strengthen future claims of dams over the sire of any litter. I have no wish to see the future of kits whose mother is gone left to chance. How will we know they are cared for? I imagine they will be assigned a milk-mother, but who is to say that will fill the role of a parent?” He shook his head, wondering if it was even worthwhile to attempt to demonstrate his thought process. The knee-jerk reaction he’d received did not leave much room for debate.
“If we avoid all conflict out of fear, we risk the other Clans taking advantage of that. I intend to put no cats at risk who are unable, or unwilling, to serve this Clan’s interests. No kit will be harmed, this I promise. Or I’ll end it then and there.” He gave a flick of his tail, feeling weary and isolated.
“Many thanks, Sablefire. I will retire to my den to consider who else to choose for the battle, if no one else wishes to volunteer. At this point, we cannot back down. It is best that we meet them at the appointed location, to spare our camp the fighting.”
With that, he leapt from his perch in one fluid motion. The snow absorbed his fall, but he did not pause as he stalked back around the tree to his den. He stopped only to glance over Peachblossom and Figheart.
“If either of you have any outstanding concerns, I’ll be in my den. But I do not intend to have a screaming match, so if that’s what you want you best not come.” He jerked his head toward Briarstep, indicating his Deputy to join him as he vanished into the cavern beneath the roots.