Windygale didn't want to be a part of this war. But he had to.
He had to come, if only to represent the Peacemakers. His ultimate goal was to stop fighting rather than start it. The light-furred tom's plan was to tear cats away from each other, make them see sense. Of course, he realized that he would gain wounds and scars, but he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't lift a claw against another cat unless he needed to. And he hoped he didn't.
He walked slowly and with purpose. Each paw step was one closer to his destination. Each ear twitch, tail flick, blink, brought him that much closer to the battle. Was he nervous? No. He knew what he was there to do, and how he was going to do it. The thick-furred feline had chosen to stick near the back of the group, but that was simply to avoid the gaze of Goldenstar. Heck, Windygale didn't even know if he was supposed to come.
But he had to. So, he trudged forward and waited for the inevitable declaration of attack.