Sparkface sucked in a breath, feeling the weight of a badger pressing down on her shoulders as Gorsestar leaped onto a large rock. He cleared his throat, attracting the attention of WindClan. "All cats who can outrun a rabbit," the small tom meowed, blinking his large eyes. "Please gather under the Clan rock for a meeting."

An excited murmur swept the crowd as cats flooded in from the shallow tunnels where cats rested and the vaguely defined borders of the WindClan camp. The sun was being drowned by the edge of the moor, and the moon was visible on the edge of the horizon, shining just as brightly as its counterpart.

"Settle down, WindClan," Gorsestar called out, his whiskers twitching with amusement. "Settle down. . . " The cats soon quieted, allowing their leader to speak. "Tonight is the Gathering, and the full moon is already rising, so we must hurry. I will bring with me the following cats: Breezecloud, Stormfeather, Lionfrost, Rabbitrun, Sparkface, Finchwing, and Larkpaw." He flicked his tail in dismission and leaped down from the rock.

Sparkface could feel the cats staring at her. Why should the cat with the 'bad-omen' get to go to the Gathering? she imagined them thinking. Gorsestar doesn't want to announce her name without her there. She choked down a wail of self-pity, and instead joined the rest of the patrol on the edge of camp.

Larkpaw was sitting next to his mentor, shifting awkwardly on his paws. Sparkface recalled that he had became an apprentice only a few suns before her warrior ceremony, so the two had never really interacted. She flattened her ears back, moving toward him and away from the warriors, who had congregated together.

Gorsestar padded up to the group with the deputy, Shrewsong, and the medicine cat, Hawkfeather, at his side. An expression of mirth decorated his face as he padded through the throng of warriors, his short tail swaying from side to side. He started out of camp, and following him came the group of warriors. A chorus of goodbyes from the staying cats echoed from in the camp.

***

Sparkface enjoyed the wind that was blowing her whiskers backwards as she padded toward Fourtrees, closing her eyes and keeping her balance steady. But when she opened them, she wasn't next to Larkpaw and Finchwing like she had been merely a few moments ago. The fishy smell of RiverClan wafted up her muzzle as Sparkface padded into Fourtrees. Where is my Clan? Cats were milling around, but the familiar grassy smell of WindClan wasn't evident.

"Where's WindC—?" she asked a ginger-furred RiverClan warrior, but the other cat just shushed her. "Where is WindClan?" she queried a ThunderClan elder, who had the same response. She kept asking, and no cat would give her an answer. Frustrated, Sparkface padded up to a final cat just as she realized that the Gathering had started.

"The prey is running well in WindClan. We have appointed two new warriors—"

She tried to glance up at the Great Rock, but her paws kept moving. As a result, she tripped over a ball of fur, face-planting into the dirt. Sparkface woozily got to her paws, glancing behind her. A frail black tom was lying behind her in a tangle of legs. He seemed to be injured, and blood was leaking from a cut on his face.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Sparkface cried out, breaking the silence that had settled over the clearing. "I—I didn't mean to hurt you!"

A loud hiss echoed from the Great Rock.

"Great job, WindClan," Needlestar, the leader of ShadowClan, spat to Gorsestar. "Your mouse-brained warrior just tried to kill my elder!" The sound of his claws unsheathing and slowly scraping against the jagged stone was audible throughout the clearing. Sparkface glanced upward; a cloud had been blown across the full moon.

Gorsestar stared down at the offending she-cat for a moment before speaking. "I am sorry, Needlestar," he began. "My warrior is no mouse-brain, but she is rather clumsy . . . she was just promoted. I apologize for Frogstep's injury."

The ShadowClan leader was having none of this. "Assault!" the brown tabby griped. "Pointless assault. C'mon, ShadowClan, let's leave these filthy fox-hearts behind to contemplate their cruel actions." Needlestar flicked his tail and leaped down from the rock, joining the throng of ShadowClan warriors that were leaving the clearing. A few cats were helping Frogstep out of the clearing.

Sparkface's eyes were still glassy with shock. She glanced up at the rock, meeting Gorsestar's hard, unforgiving gaze. He just shook his head slightly, disappointment seeming to glow from his pelt.

Why can't I do anything right? she wondered.

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