Dying Lake

You'd roll your eyes if you cared enough to do so. You hear one of your Clanmates growl from beside you. "It's not our fault their stupid queens can't have living kits!" They hiss. You suppress a sigh. That was... obvious, to say the least. Your previous inquisitory feelings about coming to a Gathering have faded. Now, you just wanted to be back at camp, curled up in your nest. Streamstar scowls down at the grouped cats. WaveClan's river has frozen," She hisses. Splashpaw bristles beside you. Streamstar glares at the other three leaders, her gaze spiteful. "We need a bit of everyone's territory." Thunderstar narrows his eyes. "Why should we do that." Streamstar hissed out a response. "You cannot let WaveClan suffer, can you?" Harestar frowned. "We don't have to give you any territory, but we can give you some prey." Streamstar turns her gaze to Oakstar. Her ears flatten. "MoorClan has its own troubles. You cannot have our land, but we can give you prey as well." Applepaw, your best friend, scowls in a way reminiscent of his mentor, Snowclaw. "Oakstar's a fool," Snowclaw snarls. Applepaw nods. "WaveClan doesn't deserve our territory." It's clear he's picking up on what Snowclaw's doing.