The day was young, warriors stirred awake as kits were rolling in the snow; It was a fair day in the camp, of the clan you reside at. Leafbare began to roll into the skies: The sun was warm, but the weather itself was cooler. Kits were running wild at camp. A new day for trouble.

Today.. Today would be different. Surely. It was much, much colder then yesterday. Leafbare was coming. Cats would get ill. Cats would die. And they needed more warriors, for more prey in the prey pile.

The touch of snow against your paws tingled at your paw pads with a bitter cold feel as you trotted forward. A clan meeting. But, blah-blah-blah-blah. Why would you listen anyway? The only word commanding enough to be caught, was Gathering. There was a gathering tonight!

Time went by fast. Patrols, clan meeting, trouble with the kits.. Then you and the rest that were sent out for tonight's gathering, were out of the camp already.

Here it was.

The moon hung high in the star-speckled sky, casting a silvery glow over the clearing where the gathering was to take place. As the first breath of leafbare swept through the trees, the air felt sharp and invigorating, a reminder of the harsh season ahead. Tension crackled among the gathered clans, each group eyeing the others with a mix of suspicion and unease, the unspoken rivalries simmering just beneath the surface.

Though the gathering had yet to commence, the cats clustered around the Great Rock, their voices a low murmur as they shared tongues, exchanging news and wary glances, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and the weight of unspoken grievances.

Warriors and elders from every clan stood in clusters, their fur bristling slightly as they exchanged stories and news, but the camaraderie felt strained. The scent of pine and frost filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the prey that had been caught in the last days of Leaffall.

The massive form of a wide brown tabby sat next to you with a quiet rustle. You could feel their gaze drill down the back of your skull.