amalgam || Brownie's world hub

Prologue

D.a- Dum. I slowly released my breath, letting the darkness of the forest envelop me in its cloak of black as I closed my eyes and parted my jaws. My mind was a still pool of water, reflecting all things around it, seeing everything but touching nothing. Remembering, but not reacting. Peaceful and still. Flat as a mirror.

D.a-dum. I took a deep breath through my nose, taking in all the scents with the air: the cool musk of the forest floor, the green freshness of the trees and leaves.

The scent of prey.

I opened my eyes and reluctantly slid out of my meditations, releasing the clarity it had given me. I stood up and padded out of the clearing with a feral grace only living alone could teach. I slunk through the forest, slipping from shadow to shadow as if I was one of their own. Each stretch of darkness embraced me with open arms, whispering secrets of the forest beyond before I left it to disappear into the next.

I followed the scent through the trees, the smell of prey imprinted in my nose as I greedily chased it. My paws were silent shadows thrumming against the ground as I tracked the scent right to the source. I noticed the scent start to spread out and quickly slowed to a methodic prowl as I approached the clearing where I knew my prey was hiding.

Long, dark gray fur greeted me as I poked my nose through the bushes, parting the leaves so I could see what was inside. The cat was hunched over, his shoulders shaking erratically, and his tail flopped to the ground lifelessly.

He never even knew I was there.

I bunched my muscles, already imagining my prey in my jaws, the sticky blood rushing over my claws. I felt a rush of hot energy flood through my fur as adrenaline pumped into my veins. The pure thrill of it making everything I had done with my life worthwhile.

Then I leaped.

The tom yowled as I landed atop him, a brown streak of fur and claws and fangs. Then everything was a blur. I felt thorns of fire run down my side and saw crimson fly off his claws, the drops of blood suspended in the air. I hissed with the pain and quickly retaliated, feeling the wetness of his blood but not knowing where I had struck.

Several times over in our fight did I feel pain. I never knew where it came from nor cared to find out; I knew it wouldn't kill me and that's all that mattered.

All I saw was colored blurs: the gray of him, the brown of me, the glittering white of our claws and fangs, the pink of the wounds, the red of the blood, the green of the forest always swirling and dancing around us. Then I was on top of him, pinning him down, feeling his heartbeat pump his life out of the gash in his neck.

At that moment, we were closer than lovers. Our souls were connected by a stronger bond; one of the killed and the killer. Our hearts beat in the same rhythm, a pounding, rapid tattoo. I stared into his eyes, once a handsome gray turned glassy.

It was addicting, the thrill of the chase, the catch, the kill. It made you feel alive. It made you feel real.

"You killed my brother!" I heard a yowl from behind me. I barely had time to recognize the golden tom before I was the one who felt claws in their throat. I was the one to feel their heart pump their life out. I was the one who felt their mind go fuzzy and their eyes glassy.

And then I felt nothing.

.


x - - cнαpтer 1


"C'mon, Lilykit! It's almost sun-high!" I felt a paw prod my side and I growled, lashing out at it but complying and getting up anyways. I shook scraps of moss out of my fluffy gray-and-white fur before opening my eyes.

You know how the air is sometimes cool and crisp and bright and crystal-clear all at once and everything is sharp and colorful? Well that's exactly how it looked. Bright patches of sunlight dappled the clearing from where it fell through the trees, creating large holes of brightness and illuminating the camp so every branch, twig and reed was highlighted in just the perfect way.

Each of the dens, from the nursery to the elder's hollow sparkled and shone from the shells and feathers we place there for the same reason; to be beautiful as the sun hit them. The stream running around the camp danced with every shade of blue imaginable. Sounds echoed in my ears: birds sang in the trees, the river gurgled and bubbled, the wind whistled through the reeds, all swirling together to create an intricate and flowing melody. The crisp and fresh scent of new-leaf rose over it all and a gentle breeze ruffled my fur.

I took in it all as I stood at the entrance to the nursery, awestruck. This was the first truly beautiful day in my short life. "It's wonderful, isn't it?" I heard a soft mew from beside me. I turned and purred as I saw the dappled brown coat of Reedkit standing beside me. He had stayed by my side silently as I breathed in the sights and sounds of a new day.

I smiled shyly and turned partially away. Reedkit was the only kit I really liked. My brother, Sparrowkit, was outright obnoxious and the other four kits, Frostleaf's latest litter, were way too young to be any fun. They were all just loud and annoying.

So that left me with Reedkit.

And I was fine with that.

Petalfrost and Troutbreeze, Reedkit's mother and my mother, were good friends. They both knew Reedkit and I rather not play with the others and made sure to keep Sparrowkit busy. They also knew we weren't stupid, nor were immature like the others and in return gave us quite a long leash compared to the other kits in the nursery.

Me and Reedkit, we could do whatever we wanted as long as it was in camp. Every so often, we would help Laurelstone out in the medicine cat den, but I felt that today was too nice to be wasted in the hole in the riverbank. I turned to Reedkit, my eyes shining. "What do you want to do today?"

"What do you want to do, Lilykit," he replied, tipping his head.

I smiled and opened my mouth, about to respond, when another noise sounded from across the clearing. "Hey! You two!"

Reedkit and I spun quickly around to face the cat, or cats as it turned out. RiverClan's only three apprentices, Redpaw, Minkpaw and Brackenpaw, were crossing the clearing, coming closer until they stood in front of us. I grinned; Reedkit and I had often passed the time training with them. "Hey, Redpaw! Are you going to teach us more fighting moves?" I mewed enthusiastically.

I felt something flick the fur on my back and realized it was Reedkit's tail. I glanced over at him and saw... fear? Reedkit, the brave one, afraid of these cats? I scrunched up my nose in confusion, scrutinizing the three apprentices. They had always carried themselves with an air of superiority over us, but this time, I could see real contempt in Brackenpaw's clear gray eyes.

"We were sent to catch food for all the elders." Brackenpaw announced.

Minkpaw raised a sleek, dark brown paw and slowly brought it down, the normal motion seeming rather... threatening in a way. "But we don't want to do that boring job, do we? We're warriors. We need to train, not hunt for those lumps," he mewed, speaking in a tone as if he were talking to week old kits.

"So you're going to do it for us, right?" Redpaw chipped in, nodding her head slowly. I was frozen, convinced these cats would shred us if we disagreed. But we couldn't hunt. No one had taught us how to fish or chase. My mind whirled as I tried to figure out what to do.

I saw Reedkit step forward. "You should be doing your own work," he said firmly. My chest swelled with pride for my denmate; he was so brave!

"Oh really," Minkpaw taunted, "or are you just too chicken to go near the river! Scaredy-mouse, scaredy-mouse!"

Reedkit seemed to be boiling inside, his paws trembling, whether in fear or anger I didn't know. I cowered down, content to watch Reedkit be brave for the both of us.

I didn't feel brave.

I only felt fear, cowardice, and submissiveness.

Reedkit was the brave one, not me. That was how it worked.

"I am not scared!" Reedkit finally snarled, "Me and Lilykit could catch more fish in one day than you three have caught in your whole lives you cowardly fox-hearts!"

All three cats smiled and exchanged glances. "You'd better. Otherwise we'd get in trouble, and you wouldn't want that, 'cause she'd get the worst of it, little kit," Bramblepaw meowed smugly, pointing a tail at me before turning and leaping out of camp with exuberant howls of joy for passing on the grunt work to someone else.

I cringed.

That was certainly one incentive.





x - - cнαpтer 2


Reedkit looked at me, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry, Lilykit. I didn't think they'd hurt you," he murmured, mellow.

I stood up, albeit a little shakily, but padded up to Reedkit to put my shoulder to his comfortingly. It had been his pride that had gotten them into this, but I didn't blame him. No, I admired his courage for standing up to the older cats. "Then we just have to catch enough that it won't happen, 'kay?"

"Okay," Reedkit said, a little of his cheerfulness returning. I turned and led him to the river, where we both crouched on the bank awkwardly. I tried to shove all my paws beneath me, but my legs were too long and my middle to short and stubby. I growled in anger and shoved my legs behind me. I didn't care how silly I looked anymore. Finally my front paws were free to cut and slash at the water.

I looked over at Reedkit and saw he managed to do what I couldn't all of his paws tucked neatly under him. "Do you remember how the warriors said to fish?" I asked.

"Do you?" he asked back and I shook my head. "Well it can't be too hard. I guess we'll just have to figure it out."

I watched my shadow ripple across the water, my image reflected in it with bumps and squiggles where they shouldn't be. Why haven't the fish come yet? I thought, more than a little ruffled that neither of us had seen a fish yet. We both sat there for quite some time, until the sun, which had been a little in the east, now sat directly over our backs.

Suddenly, silver streaks started flowing under the water. I leaped forward, surprised by the sudden motion, and tried to grab the silver blurs with my floundering paw. One of my claws snagged a scale and the fish pulled forward, unbalancing me and tossing me into the water as it swam away.

I gave a quick mrow in shock as my body was pulled downwards. I can't swim yet! I panicked, thrashing my paws around. Owch! My paw hit something hard and I pushed the rest of my paws towards it, seeking to grab a hold, my breath quickly disappearing in bubbles. I'm going to drown! I found the hard thing and pushed up to find it was the bottom... and that the water didn't even come up to my belly.

Reedkit was purring in laughter as I slogged up to the bank and shook myself off. "It wasn't funny! At least I tried," I mewed indignantly. Reedkit still smiled as we repositioned ourselves on the bank, ready for another go. Water still dripped from my fur to puddle on the sand beneath me, turning it dark and wet.

Soon enough, the fish came back, little streaks of silver twisting through the water beneath my paws. This time I waited, making a plan on how to get the fish out of the water.

Suddenly, I knew.

I remembered.

It felt like I had pulled hundreds of thousands of fish out before. I darted my paw into the water, pulling one of the silver fish out and slapping it onto the bank. Reedpaw was staring at me as if I had instead pulled out a star.

A flush of pride ran through me and I moved over to teach Reedkit my newfound skill. "Keep your shadow off the water; that's what startled the fish before," I meowed, realizing the words were true only after I had said them. "Then when you see a fish, quickly scoop it out. With no claws, otherwise they'll get caught on the scales and pull you in! Curl your paw like a leaf-- yeah, like that-- and then..." I flashed a paw in the water and pulled out another fish. I killed the fish with a flick of a claw and pushed it far enough away so it wouldn't flop back in the water.

I watched as Reedkit repeated my motions flicking drops of water in the air as his paw missed. He tried again and again until, finally, a fish came up with his paw onto the sandy bank. A little while later, red spots of fish blood speckled the yellow sand and a large pile of small fish sat between us; more than enough to feed the elders.

I looked back at the water, smiling, when I saw something large and red flicker through the water instead of the usual silver. My eyes widened and I whipped my paw down to catch it. It flew up in an arc and landed behind me, flopping and shining, glittering red and pink.

"I-I think Emberfoot called it a 'salmon'. She said it melted in a cat's mouth, tasting of everything good." Reedkit walked over to the fish and cracked its spine. "I think we have enough. It's a bigger haul than those three apprentices have ever caught in one day."

I looked at the pile of fish with satisfaction. "Now we have to sneak it all in. We'd still be in trouble even if we did only hunt right behind the camp." I took two of the small fish in my mouth and peeked through the reeds to find the clearing eerily silent. The dusk patrol must have left early. I purred at our good fortune and darted over to the fresh-kill pile, leaving my fish and going back for another set, motioning Reedkit to go next.

In this way, we transported our stack to the fresh-kill pile. Only the salmon still lay in the sand, glittering in the late afternoon light. I looked at it longingly, but forced my eyes away. Even if we weren't apprentices yet, the Clan had to be fed first. "We should take it to Emberfoot. She hasn't been feeling good and...and Laurelstone said she probably didn't have... well, have too much more time left here," I whispered.

Reedkit looked at the salmon like he wanted to eat it right then and there, but finally, slowly, nodded. He sighed, "It's the right thing, even if we are hungry." I realized my belly was growling after our long day out hunting.

We could always get another salmon sometime.

This could be Emberfoot's last.

I smiled and pulled the large fish towards the sparkling elder's den. "We brought you a surprise, Emberfoot!" I heard Reedkit's voice echo through the den. I pulled the fish inside and over to the elder before falling onto the soft moss in exhaustion.

"What do you think?" Reedkit mewed. I looked up at the ancient cat, her ginger fur still bright after all her moons of living. Her green eyes still sparkled although there was a tinge of something mellow, sadness that she was soon to go perhaps.

She flicked an ear and leaned forward until her breath tickled my ear. "I think a certain pair of kits were quite naughty. But I thank you,” she mewed, biting into the salmon, “it’s delicious. You will both turn into loyal warriors and believe me, we need them. I won't tell Wavestar.” She winked and took another bite of fish.

“You don’t have to; I was watching them the whole time.” A large tom was standing in the entrance to the elder's den, only a silhouette, but I knew enough of the cats to identify him immediately.

Wavestar.



x - - cнαpтer 3
Sneak-peek edition!
Wavestar.

I shrank back, pressing my body to the ground and wished- oh, I wished so much! - that I could turn invisible. Wavestar stepped inside the den and the sun behind him dimmed so I could see him as a whole. What I saw made me wish even harder that I was invisible. His eyes, blue chips of steel, dug into mine as if he were looking straight into my soul. His muscular gray, rippling pelt was full of scars and one of his ears had the top torn off in a ragged edge. You could tell he was a feared warrior.

This was only my second time seeing the RiverClan leader, the first being the day I opened my eyes, but already I seemed to know him. I knew he was kind. I knew he was gentle and forgiving. I knew his ear was torn when he was an apprentice by a WindClan warrior called Darkpatch. I knew his mother died of greencough; his sister, stillborn; his father, old age. I didn't know how I knew, I just did.

You can't trust him, Lilykit.

I flinched when this thought came in. Where had that come from? I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder; it had almost felt as if someone had whispered it to me, like it wasn't really my thought at all, but someone else's opinion...

"Don't blame Lilykit!" a mew pierced through my thoughts, breaking them. "It was my fault. The apprentices said we weren't brave enough, but we-"

"I heard everything," Wavestar said. "I told Hollynight to take over while I went off to watch how you did. I wanted to see how you would take the challenge." I stood up now and tilted my head in confusion for I had heard something in his voice: amusement, and... pride? He was proud of us for breaking the rules?

"Now Lilykit," Wavestar mewed. I blinked and turned my head up to look into Wavestar's blue eyes, ready to see what he had to say about me. I felt Reedkit's eyes on my fur and knew he was watching us both for our reactions. "You have not yet reached six moons, but Reedkit, you have. I think you're ready to become an apprentice."

“Me?” Reedkit squeaked, his eyes wide as twin moons. Three emotions flooded into my mind in quick succession: first was awe, then excitement. The last was a deep sadness, for if Reedkit was an apprentice, it would mean he wouldn’t be there to play with. He wouldn’t be my rock that I clung onto in fear of the raging torrent of the Clan life.

“Do-do I have to? Can’t I wait for Lilykit? And Sparrowkit?” he added my brother’s name in hastily. “Being an apprentice is supposed to be fun, but how can it be exciting when the only cats with me are almost warriors? And bullies.” Pride warmed my fur. Reedkit is staying for me! I thought gleefully. I realized then just how much I would miss him; even though he would still be in the same Clan, his apprentice duties and trainings would leave little time for them to see each other, even if it would only be one moon before I joined him.

Then I realized Wavestar never really asked Reedkit if he wanted to be an apprentice, but rather that he thought the kit was ready. Would he really force Reedkit into his apprenticeship? I thought, panicked now that he still might be torn away. Memories of Wavestar’s past that weren’t mine once again flooded through my mind, showing images of the white leader ordering RiverClan into battle. Agony tore through me as I put together that the same commanding tom was in charge of my best friend’s fate, and that it was not in my favor.

For this reason, it shocked me when Wavestar nodded and stood up. “I respect your loyalty. You’ll both make good warriors one day, but I do think the Clan can wait an extra moon for that to happen.” He chuckled, a deep thrumming in the back of the leader’s throat, and then left the den as quickly as he came.

Another cat laughed behind us, a rasping giggle that ended in a fit of coughing. I had completely forgotten about Emberfoot and that she had listened to the entire exchange. “Well I think… ah, no need to hear my twisted opinion on the matter; not like you’ll take my advice anyways,” Emberfoot mewed, the laughter on the words almost tangible. “Now leave an old cat to sleep in peace.”

Still numb, I followed the order without complaint. Exhaustion tugged on my limbs as I walked across the clearing, the sun already hidden behind the horizon. I ducked into the nursery with Reedkit right on my heels and stumbled over to my nest. Sparrowkit was already asleep, curled into our mother and snoring gently. I opened my drooping eyes a whisker to see Petalfrost smiling and opening her legs so I could squeeze in between them. I smiled back and dropped into the hole she had made, grateful for the wordless approval she gave just before I fell asleep.

---

“Sparrowkit, from this moment until you a warrior, you will be called Sparrowpaw. Toadsplash, you have mentored Blossomtail well. I trust you will pass all your skills onto Sparrowpaw.” I watched happily as my brother bounced over to his new mentor, letting the larger tom place a paw over his own like was the custom. Matching grins were plastered on Reedpaw and his new mentor, Scorchfang. I thought he mentioned once that Scorchfang was related to him by distant blood –maybe an uncle’s brother’s father’s son or something?—and he certainly looked the part. Both toms were almost identical with the same brown tabby stripes and ever-eager amber eyes. I smiled as I watched them together, their tails twitching on the same beat. They would be perfect for each other.

I glanced over at my mentor a little less eagerly. Shadefrost was slight, the gray dapples on her fur bright against the darker undercoat. Her blue eyes, while obviously intelligent, had hints of boredom and irritation flickering past.

She never wanted an apprentice.

I jumped, my fur prickling as the words were whispered. It felt as if something was watching right beside my shoulder, but like every other time this had happened, no cat was there. I only had a second to ponder what was really happening and ask myself whether or not I was going insane before a voice cut me off; this time it was real. “Come,” it said, none too gently.

I turned and started forward, following Shadefrost with little enthusiasm. My mentor slipped out of camp from behind the warrior’s and apprentice’s dens, and then through the reeds surrounding the camp.

For all the other Clans, a cat couldn’t possibly get in or out of camp anywhere but the designated entrance, but for RiverClan, it was different. They needed a barrier around camp, we had the island, and no Clan cat, never mind a battle patrol, could cross that without RiverClan knowing. So we could get out wherever we pleased.

When we emerged out the other side, Shadefrost was waiting beside the river, her grey dappled fur camouflaging her almost flawlessly as she slipped into the dark water. I walked up to the edge numbly as she got out on the other bank. She offered no words; she only sat and waited for me, looking awfully disinterested in my plight. I guessed I would have to learn on my own.

I pushed myself into the water hesitantly. The current pulled and tugged on my legs, and the smooth rocks below shifted under my claws. I inched farther out, sliding my paws rather than lifting them. The water rose higher on my shoulder pushing on my neck until my heart was pounding. I looked to the other bank for Shadefrost, but all I saw was the bare sand before a wave sloshed over my face.

I flailed my paws in a panic, feeling bubbles push through my fur. My lungs screamed, burning water filled my nose. The current battered my sides like I was only a small leaf in a mighty gale.

Next thing I was on the sand, coughing water out of my throat. I sagged limply on the ground, shivering with the molten lead that had filled my veins.

I'm part of a prophecy. Actually, I am the prophecy.
What a way to start a conversation, or even a story if I live to tell it. Ha, I can count on my claws the number of cats who are good enough kill me now; I have wits enough to stay well away from them.
So if you see this, it must mean it's part of the story; it must mean I lived. That's a good thing I suppose, I still have plenty of things to do on this earth before I go. But what happened in between? How did the prophecy end?
Hmm, well, that's for you to find out.
It all started when I was an apprentice. My mentor, Raintalon, was supposed to show me around the territory for the first time that day.
"That's not fair! I have to fetch moss for the elders!"
"I had to search them for ticks yesterday and clean the nursery. I deserve to go out. All you did was snore!" I retorted smugly, feeling satisfaction as Honeypaw whipped around and stomped out of camp, her light yellow tail lashing as she left.
"Mosspaw!" The tortoiseshell fur on my shoulders rose as I heard my mentor call out from across the hollow. I knew he had heard our quarrel, but I hadn't done anything wrong; I only told the truth. Honeypaw had slept all day while I had to do chores. I deserved to do something fun for doing all that boring work. "That's no way to treat a clanmate, let alone your own sister. You will go apologize after we get back." He stepped past me and into the thorn tunnel leading into the forest.
I followed, glad I hadn't been punished with elder duty and was still able to go out into the forest. I know my pale green eyes were glowing in excitement as I followed Raintalon's dark gray speckled form as we cut through the dense bushes.
Sights, scents and noises filled my senses to the brim as I padded through the forest. My mouth opened wide in awe as I tried to spin my head in every direction at once as to see everything I could. I could hear jays crying in the trees, I could smell the earthy smell of ferns and I could see green everywhere. Everything was just green, green and more green. I loved it.
I stopped abruptly; a wild, tangy scent filled my nose and knocked me back almost like I had ran into a tree. "Got your first wiff of WindClan, eh?" Raintalon said in amusement. "We're almost at the border." I shook my head to clear some of the stench away before stepping forward and following my mentor through the last of the thick trees to the bank of a thin stream.
"Is this the border?" I asked, padding over to the bank and splashing a paw to the warm water; my eyes growing wide as ripples spread out from beneath it, starting small, but growing until they reached the far bank.
This is your fate, Mosspaw. You will start small, but gain power until you will rule the whole forest.
I jerked back from the water, cutting off the deep voice echoing in my head. A surge of raw energy raced through my body making my fur prickle before dissipating into the river with a small ripple and a sigh. What was that thing? I thought in confusion, shaking out my fur. "Don't like the water?" Raintalon purred, coming up behind me.
I thought about how odd I must have looked and hastily nodded, glad for the excuse. "Yes. It's... wet," I finished lamely. Wet? Really? I mentally scolded myself, but Raintalon just flicked his ears in agreement.
"I never liked the water either. The only time I try to touch it is in one of Featherheart's swimming lessons. Speaking of which, you might be having your first lesson tomorrow or the next," he announced. I brightened up, glad of one more guaranteed day out of camp, the idea of spending it with Featherheart doing nothing to dampen it.
My tail flicked up as I remembered something I meant to ask as soon as we got out of camp. "Has Foxpaw been out yet? I didn't have a chance to talk to him."
"Not to the borders. He was out helping Swallowsun gather herbs. But he might have seen more than us if we stand here all day," Raintalon mewed, starting forward along the stream.
I purred and jumped forward, full of energy once again. The whispers of the river followed me as I walked. "Remember this scent. You'll need to be able to find out who's the allies and who are the enemies in a heartbeat in the middle of a battle." I nodded, sure I could pick out this scent wherever and whenever Raintalon pleased.
The ferns started to grow thicker as we followed the border and we were forced to go closer to the border, even splashing our paws in the shallows when the bank forced us off. I wrinkled my nose; the scent of WindClan overwhelming my senses. It smelled like it was all around me, consuming me.
"Raintalon," I mewed hesitantly, "I think-"

But I never got to finish speaking as a large tom stinking of WindClan bowled me over and pushed my face into the dirt. Violent splashes in the river followed, as was a smacking of many bodies through the bush. I heard Raintalon hiss before being abruptly cut off. "Don't move or else your apprentice here is crow-food!"

CHAPTER TWO

My eyes grew wide in shock as I scrabbled my paws against the ground uselessly.
He was a full grown warrior with moons of experience.
I was little more than a kit and had no training whatsoever.
This was not a fair fight in any way, shape, or form.
And I was not going to deal with it.
I went limp, making sure I looked defeated and tired. I swear I saw arrogance flicker across his face. The emotion of a cat who knew they were winning and their opponents couldn't do anything in return. Perfect.
"What do you want?" I heard Raintalon growl. I couldn't see him from my position on the ground, but I knew his dark gray fur would be bristled, his long, deadly claws unsheathed and fangs bared. I could hear several different shufflings move around me and knew there were even more warriors coming to surround the fierce ThunderClan warrior.
I squinted my eyes and listened harder.
I didn’t think there were any behind me.
"Redstar sent us to deliver a message. This land belongs to WindClan now. Tell Scorchstar to keep his warriors out; we will guard this section of forest as heavily as the rest of our territory," I heard a cat respond in a silky voice.
I hated him for doing this to me.

His voice, forever imprinted on my brain, is the one on which my fury would gain revenge.
One day.
I heard more leaves rustle around, but my head was still firmly clamped the other direction and I couldn't see anything going on. "Then let us go and tell him that." I heard calmness enter Raintalon's mew as I figured he realized they would let us go.
I relaxed for real this time, glad I hadn't had to try my risky escape. I trusted my mentor's judgment.
"Hmmm..." the cat mewed, "we are under orders to deliver the message in any way possible. Maybe we should... show how fiercely we'll defend our new borders. I think sending a little reminder will help you convince Scorchstar to stay away from our land, wouldn't you agree?" I heard the distinct click of claws unsheathing followed by a chorus of hoots from the WindClan warriors.
I had to do something.
Now.
I took a deep breath, calming the boiling rage inside me. I closed my eyes.
One. I heard the tom step closer to Raintalon. In that heartbeat, a image of the cat, a dusty tan tom, flashed behind my closed eyelids, his ivory claws raised right in front of my mentor's face. Taunting him to attack first, torturing him by forcing him to wait.
Two. The crowd seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. The forest went silent as if it knew of the atrocities committed just outside the border. I could feel the cat holding me shift his weight to get a better view...
Three! I thrust my body out from under the tom and pushed my way out into the forest, all my thoughts focused on getting back to camp in time to warn Scorchstar of what was happening.
I raced down the trail leading back to camp, my paws flying over the ground, my tail streaming behind me. The green forest that had awed me before passed in a blur. I ignored the new sights and smells, disregarded everything but the path in front of me.


I burst out of the trees to find my paws sloshing in water.
The lake! The large expanse of water took my breath away as I stood at the bank, a great expanse of blue as great as the sky reflected down below. With a growl I threw my curiosity off and swiftly turned and ran back into the forest, intent on finding my way back home.
I was lost.
In my own territory.
StarClan help me! I need to get to camp! My paws started to slow and my lungs felt like liquid fire as I ran cluelessly around the massive forest territory. The forest began to blur again, but this time not from speed. The beating of my paws matched my heart, slowing and slowing. . .
Then a dark brown tabby materialized beside me, his pawsteps matching mine stride for stride. Slowly, I felt energy return to my limbs, the fire in my lungs quenched as cooling water flowed down my throat.
"Follow this trail, It'll lead you to your camp," he mewed in a strong voice. "You were right to leave your mentor. You are meant to survive, thrive! It's your fate, your destiny. Don't let anything get in the way."
I found myself nodding, slowing as I noticed we were already drawing towards the edge of the hollow. The tabby bared his fangs, his ice-blue eyes bright as he drew ahead. "Remember, you are meant to rule the forest!"
I stopped at the rim of the hollow and watched as the tabby flung himself off the edge and disappeared into the air.
I stood in awe, feeling like I'd been touched by a god.
Which in a way, I had.




CHAPTER 3
"No!" I yowled, throwing myself at the bundle of gray-and-red fur that was once my mentor. I shoved my muzzle into his pelt, whimpering. The blood that stained his pelt dripped onto my paws, turning the brown-and-white fur a dark, dark red.
If I would have stayed and fought.
If I hadn't run.
He would still be alive.
"Scorchstar, we chased them off. They won't be so quick to take ThunderClan land again."
My eyes, dull from grief, barely took in the white coat of Birchcloud, the deputy. She had a long, ragged gash parting her long fur and one of her green eyes was starting to swell, but she held herself high as she reported to the black-and-ginger patched leader.
I hardly noticed when Cherryfall wailed and ran over to bury her nose in her mate's fur and the rest of the patrol came around to grieve. Exhaustion and misery made my eyes droop despite the commotion and soon I felt darkness tug me out of my body and into dreams, my nose still buried in Raintalon's lifeless fur.


I jolted awake when I felt something hard prod my flank. I blinked open my eyes to see the deep orange fur of my only brother, Foxpaw, standing over me. I sat up stiffly, wondering why I was outside, before remembering what had happened the previous day. Frantically scanning the clearing, I barely caught a glimpse of Raintalon's tail dragging out of the hollow leaving a furrow of sand in its wake before he was gone.

Forever.

I tensed, determined to stay collected and conscious of my surroundings instead of drifting off into sorrow over my mentor's death.

Over his murder.

One that I could have prevented.

The thought stabbed at me, again and again, claws slashing down my sides. If I hadn’t run, if I wasn’t a coward, if WindClan hadn’t broken the code. . .

Through the pain, I was able to find another emotion: one I gripped onto as if it was a lifeline; one that gave me strength and purpose past being a warrior; one I knew was unbreakable.

Revenge.


CHAPTER 4 -Header coming soon. Too lazy to make it before I write.-

I yawned, waking just before the sun touched the lakeshore. I padded silently out of my den and into the clearing, leaving the four other apprentices -- my siblings: Honeypaw and Foxpaw, and Rosebreeze's kits: Thrushpaw and Icepaw -- asleep in their nests.

I was assigned a new mentor the day after Raintalon's death. Scorchstar tried to force Redstar to punish his warriors for killing Raintalon in cold blood at my first gathering –the moon conveniently rising to full only a couple sun-rises after the event-- but his warriors had just complained it was for self-defense as Raintalon had attacked them first.

There was not a scratch on any of those rabbit-munchers.

My first time out: I was attacked by WindClan.

My first gathering: ruined by some lying WindClan warriors.

I was starting to really hate WindClan.

"Come on, Mosspaw. Too late for fresh-kill; you can hunt while we're on dawn patrol if you're hungry." I blinked, jolted out of my memories by Heronfoot, my mentor. I padded over to the patrol, taking in the sight of Heronfoot again.

He looked so... out of place in ThunderClan it was hard not to stare. Every long, coarse hair on his light brown pelt screamed RiverClan and his paws were large and flat; just what RiverClan cats needed to swim. His tail was long and curling with a white tipped plume on the top and more white streaked his legs and shoulders.

The only thing normal about him was his eyes; the same mint green as his ThunderClan mother, Sageflower.

The rest of him looked exactly like Minnowflight, his father. His RiverClan father.

I could tell being half-Clan bothered him, but he didn't act like a RiverClan cat nor did he smell like one. He was a good fighter even if hunting in the brambles gave him trouble. And he never complained or reacted when people brought up his heritage. He was strong for carrying the burden of his parents.

I respected him for that.

The rest of the patrol was comprised of Halfwing-- a gray and white she-cat with a stumpy tail-- and Cloudheart-- a white she-cat supposedly distantly related to Cloudtail and, through him, the legendary Firestar.

I didn't believe her. It's been too long since the cats of prophecies had roamed the forest to even know who were descendants of them. Every kit heard the stories passed down from elder to elder about the Great Journey, the Three, Firestar and Tigerstar, the Battle of the Stars, and even the war with BloodClan in the old territories. Then they wished they were related to those cats or that there would be more prophecies soon.

It never happened.

Most cats are starting to think the elder's stories are just stories; tales spun from a cat with a big imagination.

I don't know what to think anymore.

Maybe they--

"Merow!" I exclaimed, tumbling down the hill, my paw throbbing where it jammed on a root.

The briars caught on my fur as I felt, pulling and tugging on my skin. Dirt pushed into my pelt and the grime made my pelt crawl in disgust. Finally, I rolled to a stop in a clump of grass.

The forest felt different here.

Dark.

Unfamiliar.

I sat up and shook off my pelt, dislodging some of the offending dirt and leaves. I looked around for my Clanmates and saw them picking their way down the steep hill.

I felt something behind me, the fur on my shoulders rising as my instincts took over. I turned, finding myself eye to eye with a furious ShadowClan warrior.

Why did it always have to be me?

Chapter 5

"Prey-stealer!" she hissed. The warrior in front of me was a small gray-and-white tabby she-cat, her muzzle short and flat against her skull. Her fur, long and perfectly groomed, shone in the light dappling the forest floor.

I thought she would have been pretty if there wasn't a snarl splitting her face like a puckered scar.

I flicked my tail, trying to keep my voice calm although I was seething inside. Didn't this cat have eyes? I must’ve sent an avalanche down that hill. "I fell down the hill."

The small tabby flattened her ears and stepped towards me. I noticed her paws were tense; her claws not yet unsheathed, but ready to do so at a moment’s notice. "How do I know you didn't fall on purpose just to get into our territory?" Her voice was laced with anger as potent as poison.

"Um. Because it hurt," I responded sarcastically, gesturing to the torn fur on my broad shoulders. The small scrapes only bled a little, but good StarClan did they sting.

She seemed to see me for the first time then. She shook her head and backed away, the snarl melting from her face. "You're the one whose mentor was murdered. You must still be grieving. You're not prepared for a fight yet; I'd be surprised if you could bring yourself to fight another cat again after that. My apologies."

I blinked in shock before narrowing my eyes again in anger, rage tinting the forest red. I might still yearn to avenge his death, still vividly image my claws slicing through those fox-hearted WindClan warrior's throats one by one, but I was not weak.

Not if I wanted to destroy those cowardly rabbit-munchers for good.

I was strong.

I had to be.

"I don't want your pity!" I yowled, lunging at her horror-filled face with a shudder of rage. I threw her to the ground, landing on top of her and pinning the small warrior down with my size. I looked into her eyes, red in color from the haze that covered my own. "I am just as strong as any other cat. Stronger. I don't need protection. I don't need pity. I'm the one all of you should look up to," I roared, my spit flying into her fur.

"That's. My. Destiny!" I punctuated each word with a swipe of my claws into her throat, watching as the crimson liquid stained my paws red.

Just like Raintalon's had.

The life drained out of her, turning her eyes dull and glassy, her struggles to escape my paws growing feebler and feebler until she was only trembling on the ground. Once she stopped shaking, I stepped off the body and turned back into my own territory.

I had just killed.

And it wasn't as hard as I thought.


CHAPTER 6


I made a detour towards the lake to where the stream veered out of ShadowClan territory to mark the border with ThunderClan.

I sure couldn’t go back looking like this.

Slowly, the green of the forest started to enter my vision, beating out the redness. It was calming being on my own territory. The ferns rustled gently as I wove through them, my trail invisible.

I wondered what I would tell the patrol when I got back. I could surely say I found the body and fled, remembering Raintalon. No one would ever suspect me. I was only an apprentice.

I could also say I hit my head coming down and had a hard time finding my way back.

But that would probably land me in the medicine cat den with only Featherheart for company. I shivered, revolted by the thought.

Featherheart may have been handsome once, but now…

I thought he really needed a thorough washing.

Or two.

It didn’t take long before I was standing in the shallows—on ThunderClan’s bank of course—watching the ribbons of red leak from my paws to be swept downstream. I felt a chill run up my legs and a cold breeze flattened my fur on my left side.

I turned my head to see the piercing blue eyes I had seen my first day out. His dark tabby paws stood next to mine, the water flowing through them as if he wasn’t actually there.

Which if he was a StarClan warrior, he wasn’t. I stared at his paws, the water passing straight through him keeping me enthralled. Suddenly his paws started leaking red, crimson seeping through his claws turning the whole river red with blood.

He was just like me.

I let my eyes drift back up to his sharp muzzle. His eyes shone with pride, as if I were his prize apprentice who had just turned a warrior. “You are going to be my apprentice, Mosspaw.” I flinched in shock that he had been able to tell my exact thoughts. “Our training starts tonight, young one.”

I realized I thought of him the perfect mentor, the prime fighter that could teach me everything I ever wanted. The one who could help me defeat WindClan and get my revenge on their code-breaking ways.
I smiled.

Everything was perfect now.

“I’ll be there,” I promised. He just stared at me and nodded before evaporating in a gust of chilling wind, leaving me standing in the river, alone, for the ThunderClan patrol to find a poor grief-stricken apprentice who ran from the sight of blood.

CHAPTER 7

"I j-just found her... just lying there. Blood-so much blood. I-I ran. I-I-I didn't think. I just ran. As far as I could. I-I'm sorry for the t-trouble I must've caused at camp," I lied. I forced my body to quiver and shudder, my voice to stutter. It had to feel as if I ran from fear of seeing the body, not fear of being caught.

I watched with glowing pride as I saw Scorchstar's eyes soften as if he were comforting a kit. I almost smiled despite faking being scared out of my wits. Ha. I covered up by letting my head drop as if I were exhausted. "Go to Featherheart. He'll give you herbs for the shock before you can rest."

"Thank you," I whispered before slowly making my way out of the leader's cave. I slowly picked my way down the ledges leading up to the cave, making sure to pause on some of them. I wish I could have leaped down and got it over with, but I had to keep up the act until I was snug in my nest.

I jumped down from the last stone, jarring my shoulder as I landed awkwardly on a patch of uneven ground. I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes in pain before limping over to the medicine cat's den. At least now I had a real reason to be here instead of my fake shock, I thought wryly as I slipped through the bramble screen.

The smell of herbs wreathed around me as I entered. It was pleasant, like the air just after a rain. The effect was completely ruined when I saw movement in the back of the cave and a fresh wave of unwashed cat slapped me in the face like a piece of rotten prey.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust and limped quickly over to an unused nest near the edge of the cave. Featherheart come over to where I sat, a clump of sweet herbs in his mouth. He set them near my paws, motioning to eat them while he went back into the stores. I obeyed and ate them up, the bitter taste almost as bad as Featherheart’s stench. I kept one clover-shaped leaf under my paw, relishing the aroma to chase away the smell of unwashed cat.

But all too soon the off-white tom was back, bringing with him a variety of different herbs. I hope I don’t have to eat all of those, I thought, watching the bundle with wide eyes. As if guessing my thoughts, Featherheart explained them to me. “They’re for your shoulder. I have to treat it with different poultices depending on how severe the strain.”

I nodded; relieved I didn’t have to eat the foul things. One dose was enough.

“Now,” Featherheart mewed, “I have to check and see what’s wrong. It might hurt a little…” He placed his grimy paws on me and I shuddered, both with pain and disgust.

‘It might hurt a little’ my tail. That was definitely the understatement of the day. By the time Featherheart had stopped probing and started getting the herbs ready, my throat was sore from yowling in agony and my shoulder throbbed harder than it had when I had first twisted it.

But Featherheart must’ve known what he was doing, for as soon as he put the poultice on it had stopped aching almost instantly.

I shifted my body, amazed when it didn’t hurt. “Now you should rest. You’ve had a hard day.”

I nodded numbly, only sub-consciously remembering to keep up the act. Featherheart smiled and turned back to his cave behind the main medicine cave.

Alone for the first time since I entered camp, I let myself relax, a slow grin spreading over my face.

They didn’t suspect a thing.

Though I never was in shock, I was still just as tired as any cat that had to wake up for dawn patrol and then promptly fell down a hill, so I decided I should be lazy while I could before Heronfoot deemed me ready for training again.

I knew I deserved some time off; I had trained hard, harder than all the others. I needed to be ready as soon as a chance came to punish WindClan. If they stepped a toe over the border, I wanted to be ready.

But now I had my shoulder that needed to heal as well. The best thing I could do was rest, and so I did, quickly falling into a deep sleep. Too late did I remember my meeting with the dark tabby. I couldn’t attend, not with feigning shock and my completely real hurt shoulder. I wondered if he would be angry with me for not being true to my promise.

CHAPTER 4

“Faster! Faster! Duck, now swipe!” My pale eyes narrowed as I leaped backwards, my extended claws dripping crimson blood as my opponent’s foreleg crumpled under her weight. More blood dripped out from the leg while the sandy colored she-cat lay on the grass, moaning. Other thin scratches covered her flanks, but the deep gouge on the paw had to be the most painful.

I winced, feeling her pain. My own wounds stung, but all were insignificant compared to the other she-cat’s; mine were barely scrapes, only a couple furs out of place, while hers were still oozing blood. “Good.” Hawkfrost jumped down from his perch on a dead stump where he had been instructing my every move. Some of the training sessions were like this, where he would annotate my battle strategy as I started to learn instinctively of what to do on the spot, what wounds would cause the most pain in the least amount of time. Other times, I would fight alone, hoping my own plans were satisfactory in taking out my contender.

“You’re learning well,” he mewed gruffly. Pride bubbled in my chest, threatening to burst out in display. I pushed it down, knowing keeping control of my emotions was the first step into becoming a warrior.

“I am only this good because I have such a great mentor.” I mewed with a dip of my head. I had learned early on that training hurt less when I was submissive. I remembered vividly the first time I had argued with Hawkfrost; the wounds I gained that night were hard to cover up in the morning. Despite how Hawkfrost had been teaching me about keeping emotions in check, I could see amusement lightening his hard eyes.

Hawkfrost looked over to the she-cat, who was now licking the leg clean. “You did well tonight; Heatherwing is quite hard to subdue. It’s almost morning, time for you to go, Mossclaw.” Mossclaw, I thought, another surge of pride running down my spine. I had been named a full warrior almost a moon ago, but the sound of my new name still felt fresh every time.

I nodded and slipped away silently through the brush to the small clearing I had first arrived in. The long grass there was flattened in the center from my paws as I arrived and exited the Dark Forest. A small nest rested on the edge, woven out of the grass and lined with moss.

I sighed and slipped into the nest, feeling as comfortable as I did in my nest back in ThunderClan. I curled my tortoiseshell fur into the nest, flicked my white-tipped tail over my nose, and closed my eyes.

* * * * *

I opened them to find myself squeezed in between Foxcloud and Honeywhisker. Like usual, Honeywhisker was sprawled out, her hind paws over Foxcloud’s back while one of her forepaws was pushing hard into my chest. My sister had always been a restless sleeper. I reached out a paw and poked her in the side. She flinched against my touch, retracting all legs into her nest as her pale golden eye flicked open. I purred, not meaning to startle her awake, but amused by her reaction. “Dawn patrol. Birchcloud told us last night, remember?” She moaned and flopped back down, covering her muzzle with a paw. I grinned; Honeywhisker had never been an early riser either. “C’mon,” I mewed, getting up.

I slipped out of the large warriors den, the bracken crackling when my spine rubbed up against the fronds. My paws were soaked in dew by the time I made it across the clearing to the camp entrance. Gorsefox and Halftail were also on the dawn patrol, but the clearing was empty of cats. They must still be in the warrior’s den. I sat alone and started to groom out my fur, wincing a bit as my tongue scraped this night’s wounds. “Already ready to go?” I looked up to see Halfwing’s black-and-white patched fur as the she-cat walked over.

“Yeah, the sooner we get out there, the sooner we can be warm,” I mewed amiably. The small she-cat was always friendly, and after a while it had rubbed off onto all the cats she talked to. She had been kind to me as an apprentice, and was one of the first to welcome me as a warrior. I liked the small she-cat.

She smiled, one that reached past her mouth to light up her amber eyes. “Leaf-bare still wants to rule, even when green-leaf is just around the corner!” she meowed, sitting across the entrance. “It was so chilly in the warrior’s den, I almost expected there to be snow. Or at least frost.” A faint whispering came from behind a clump of rocks the elders loved to sun on. Halfwing’s ears turned towards the noise and I leaned forward.

“I dare you to climb all the way up!” a faint voice squeaked.

“But mother said—“

“Mother’s not here. I think you’re just chicken.”

“Am not!” The response sounded indignant.

I looked over at Halfwing. “Kits shouldn’t be climbing the rock; it’s not safe.” She nodded and stood, turning towards the whispers. I quickly followed suit, rounding the corner of the rock. “Cricketkit! Tallowkit! You know better than to climb the rock. It’s forbidden to kits for a reason; it’s dangerous,” I scolded as Halfwing came up beside me.

“I told you you were too loud,” the black she-kit pouted, poking her sister with a paw.

Halfwing frowned. “Both of you, go back to the nursery and don’t try this again. Otherwise I can always have a friendly chat with Scorchstar asking to postpone your apprenticeships.” The kits’ eyes widened and both backed away from the rock.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t going to let her actually do it!” Cricketkit mewed.

Tallowkit followed, “yeah, we were just joking.” Both kits darted off into the nursery, ducking inside the thick brambles. Halfwing smiled and shook her head, going back to the entrance where a sleepy-eyed Honeywhisker was waiting, the dark gray of Gorsefox beside her.

“Were we like that? Foxcloud, Honeywhisker and I?” I asked the older she-cat. She would have been an apprentice while we were kits.

Halfwing laughed, her eyes bright. “All the time. All the time.”

“Whenever you two are done,” Gorsefox mewed, the tom’s voice accusing and slightly bored.

I rolled my eyes. “Settle your fur. And for the record, we were ready before you were even awake.” Gorsefox glared at me and I smiled innocently back, satisfaction settling in my stomach.

Surprisingly, Honeywhisker frowned at me and flicked her tail over Gorsefox’s shoulders as if shielding him from me. “Let’s go.” Gorsefox allowed his eyes a heartbeat longer of glaring before turning and trotting out of camp.

“I wonder what got his tail in a knot,” I whispered to Halfwing, padding out of camp shoulder to shoulder. She turned to face me.

“Well, you did kind of snap at him.”

I shrugged. “It was true.” Halfwing let a frown touch her muzzle before returning to an impassive look. Ahead, Gorsefox and Honeywhisker padded side by side, talking as they walked. They turned, heading down a trail to the creek that bordered WindClan. WindClan, I thought, eager to reach the border. I loved WindClan border patrol; I was watching, waiting for one of their warriors to accidentally cross the border, just enough so I was allowed to slip my claws into their throats… I smiled, giddiness flooding my senses.

Today might be the day.

I heard a hiss and a yowl in front of me and raced forward, my paws jumping on the chance to shred some WindClan flesh.

“ThunderClan! Attack!” Gorsefox yowled from up ahead. I pushed faster, ready to jump into battle, raw energy coursing down my fur. I bared my fangs and yowled, jumping into the fray.

Today was the day.

Today was the day.

My target was a grey-and-white she-cat. She had been there during Raintalon's murder; she was going to be the first to pay. I lunged at her, my face the picture of revenge. Her eyes widened, but she sidestepped my tackle albeit a little clumsily due to the undergrowth. As soon as my paws touched the ground I whirled to face her, claws extended and fangs bared. The only thoughts running through my mind were those of my claws in her fur, her blood running on the ground.

I was obsessed with the revenge, addicted.

I kind of liked it.

I grinned, all fangs. She was within my grasp, and I was allowed to kill her. Because she crossed the border. Because of the prey at her paws. Because of her being here. Because she made a mistake. And I didn't. I widened my focus like Hawkfrost taught, taking in every detail about her. I noticed the way she crouched, her left paw slightly behind her right, making her shoulder slope a little lower... I lunged.

Just like in training that night (morning?), I darted forward. Her paw sliced at my head, trying to stop my approach, but I anticipated the move and like before, ducked while also initiating my own attack: a claw swipe to her leg. Her left leg, the one she favored. I leaped back just as quickly, watching her grunt in pain, the leg shivering under her weight as blood gushed out.

But she didn't fall. No, she grimaced, but straightened. Her stance was wider to keep her balance on the injured leg, but she didn't retreat. Not yet. And even if she had tried, I wouldn't have let her; she didn't give Raintalon that choice, so I wouldn't give it to her.

I stood a couple paces away, my chest low to the ground. My tortoiseshell-patched tail lashed and a growl rumbled in my chest. I tried taunting her. This time, I wanted her to attack first. I knew she would be at a disadvantage, having to traverse the brambles she was oh-so-incompetent around with an already-weak and now injured leg. She wouldn't have any balance. Not a mousetail's worth.

Likewise, it would be silly to attack first. The she-cat would have the advantage of bracing herself, and seeing what I would do to retaliate. No, she would have to come to me. All this information poured into my brain in the span of a couple heartbeats; analysing battle strategy with Hawkfrost had honed my receptiveness to the point now where it was second-nature to me. I had trained to use it against WindClan, and now it really was happening.

I waited another couple heartbeats, the battle raging around me while I stared into the she-cat's light amber eyes. She didn't move. "So you come in here, steal our prey and don't have the heart to fight for it," I teased, a snarl playing on my face. "WindClan was always full of cow--" A hiss cut me off followed quickly by a searing pain in my hindquarters. The she-cat took that moment to leap at me, bowling me over in the mud.

I yowled in pain and surprise, using my back legs to claw at her stomach as we rolled, a mass of claws and fur and blood. Whoever had clawed at me before was gone, swallowed in the writhing jumble of fighting cats. Rage built inside me and I bucked, heaving my shoulders off the ground, hoping to force her weaker foreleg to give.

I slammed back up against the ground, the she-cat's claws still curled inside my shoulders. She looked at me as if daring me to surrender then and there. But I couldn't. I had to kill her. My thoughts whirled as I sized up my sticky predicament. I couldn't push her off; there was nothing for me to push against. I couldn't submit or even fake it; she'd know what I was doing.

Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I screamed.

As primitive as it was, the trick worked. I had managed to surprise her, letting her paws loosen just the little bit I needed to wriggle free. Finally having the upper hand of the fight again, I leaped, hoping she was still a little disoriented, or at least not prepared for me to attack so soon. I encountered little resistance as I crashed into her chest, my weight and size allowing me to pummel her down.

My eyes gleamed as I stood atop her, my mass smothering any chance of escape. "This is for Raintalon!" I hissed softly before sinking my fangs into her throat. She tried to speak, but only gurgled as liquid seeped into her windpipe, effectively drowning her in her own blood. I spit what blood I had in my mouth onto the ground before leaving her to dive back into the battle.

Honeywhisker had already sent one fleeing, and Halfwind swiftly dispatched another back to the moor. The remaining cats, finding themselves now outnumbered on enemy territory, quickly followed suit and turned tail. I grinned at the winning ThunderClan patrol; we had beaten the WindClan scum.

I turned to the body of the she-cat, satisfaction rolling in my stomach. You paid for what you did in Raintalon's murder, but you weren't the only cat on that patrol, I thought, looking out to where I knew WindClan's territory lay. And you all messed with the wrong she-cat.

I helped carry the she-cat's body to the WindClan border. The bleeding from her neck had just about stopped, only a thin drizzle escaping from her mouth to splatter against the leaves, leaving a path of iridescent red. Beside me was Gorsefox, carrying the other half of the she-cat's weight over his shoulders.

Even though I couldn't see him, I could tell a frown curled against his muzzle; the same frown he wore when he found one of the cats dead. 'ThunderClan cats don't need to kill in order to win a battle.' I heard his disapproving voice echo in my head.

'She was about to kill me. I couldn't get her off no matter how hard I scratched or bit. When she came down to rip my throat... I lunged. I was about to die myself.' I had responded. I could tell he was still unsettled about my answer, but it would have to do since I sure wasn't going to give him the StarClan forsaken truth. This was personal, my revenge on WindClan. No one else had to know.

Not now.

Not ever.

And especially not him.

We left her on the WindClan side of the riverbank, curling her body underneath a bramble thicket to protect it from predators. As soon as the battered patrol returned, we knew they would come back for her body.

I shook out my drenched fur as I slipped out of the water, slick as a minnow. The creek was shallow enough to wade through, but it was still as irritating as the Dark Forest getting wet having to do it.

We, Gorsefox and I, contemplated leaving the fallen warrior on ThunderClan’s bank, but thought it would be offensive to leave her on our side. They might take that as a move to take over their warriors, as a sign we own them. Instead, we decided it was a lesser of the two evils to trespass onto WindClan land, even through the wetting, to return her to her Clan.

The walk back to camp was silent. I followed behind Gorsefox, leaving him to mow his way through the overgrown, green-leaf foliage. Even on this well-trodden track, ferns and bramble and briars seemed to go out of their way to hinder any cats, and it was the same for us. As it was, the Clan was still buzzing with chatter and rumor after the battle when we ducked through the thorn tunnel. Cats that fought alongside me in the battle were surrounded by clusters of cats, each trying to watch in as the battle patrol acted out the skirmish. The entire hollow was bustling with activity, more than we had seen in a few moons. After all, the Clans were, for the most part, peaceful now.

"Did you really kill a cat?" Cricketkit chirped, appearing right below my paws. I stumbled backwards, taking care to not squish the tiny black she-cat. With her size and my size, I knew that was very possible.

I blinked, words racing through my head as I tried to make sense of what to say. Cricketkit's eyes were wide, almost in awe, but with flickers of fear tainting the clear blue hues. I didn't know what I should say. I sure couldn't tell the innocent kit yes, Orchidnose would line her nest with my fur for encouraging that on her kits, for I knew that was what Cricketkit would take it as. Yet she would find out somehow, and I could not straight out lie.

The worst part is that her question raised a great deal more in my head. The ones asking not for a yes or no, but how far. How far was I going to take this? Killing the ones involved? Their families? Their kits? Anger curdled inside me, a rumbling that I could've sworn Cricketkit could hear from below. They had killed Raintalon in cold blood, for nothing more than to show dominance. I was -

"Mossclaw!"

I flinched, the fur on my shoulders rising. Cricketkit frowned and gave a disappointed look before stepping away and rushing off. It took me long enough to recognize the yowl, and to see Scorchstar on the highledge. Even from afar I could tell he was on edge, his eyes hard chips of amber and his tail swishing side to side. I leaped up, worming my way through the cats - a difficult task due to my wide shoulders and the packed hollow - and scurried up the eight stones to the ledge and the cave beyond.

I shook off my fur as I entered, smoothing it down and ridding myself of the itch that came when others' fur was bristled into mine when I had squirmed through the warriors to get here. "Scorchstar," I meowed, looking to the large ginger tom. It did not escape me that I could see him in the eye, something most cats couldn't brag of. He was a fearsome sight, the massive tomcat.

Scorchstar padded deeper into the cave, sitting beside Birchcloud, the deputy, who was also present. I padded over and sat in front of the two, my back towards the entrance. "Tell us what happened. In the battle," Birchcloud said, her voice light and musical despite the darkness of the discussion.

I recounted the events of the afternoon, speaking the story as I told it to Gorsefox. The she-cat was unstoppable, I bit into whatever I could, the killing was an accident. I added on the part where we took her body back to WindClan, mentioning our choice to leave her on the WindClan side of the creek. "A good choice" Scorchstar had added when I first started on that part.

It didn't take long before I had told everything I could, answering the occasional question from either superior. "And that's how it was," I finished. Scorchstar had his head tipped, as if thinking over my retelling. Birchcloud gave me the faintest of smiles and a brief nod. I kept my mouth closed, knowing it was not my place to break the silence, nor was it cue to leave.

Finally, after my bones were starting to protest from sitting straight, "You are a brave cat, Mossclaw. Many others may have been injured if not for your actions." I gave a slight dip of my head, acknowledging his words. "Yet your actions will still have repercussions, if not from me and ThunderClan, then surely from WindClan, and the others once they hear. The Clans of the lake have been peaceful for generations, and no cat had been killed in moons. Simply for breaking this peace, you will be a target, and through you, ThunderClan, and even further, me. You do understand this?"
"I do," I said softly, my voice light.

Scorchstar dipped his head. "Even by accident, this is a serious matter. However, your actions were well within justification. Even in the warrior code, a warrior can kill to defend one's life or the life of a Clanmate. Gorsefox affirmed this, that you were in the right, and I trust his word and yours. ThunderClan is in debt of your courage, even if others may not see it as such. You did well." Scorchstar turned to Birchcloud, flicking his tail in my direction. The dismissal was obvious, and I left without another word, slipping down the rocks and into the hollow.

The surprise took longer than I thought to wear down. Gorsefox, backing up my word? The older warrior never had given me a kind thought that I could remember, and I had accepted that. I still didn't believe that Gorsefox would put in a good word for me, especially because it meant going out of his way to do so. The whole situation seemed odd. As I pushed my way past the ivy covering the medicine cat den, ready to have my scratches treated so I could move on with the day, I started questioning what exactly put one of the cats I most disliked onto my side.


Honeywhisker was expecting kits.

And -- of course, why would life miss the opportunity to make me miserable? -- they were Gorsefox’s.

I narrowed my eyes, watching the new couple as they pranced around ThunderClan’s hollow. I watched the other cats praise them, wishing them luck. I watched. And watched. And waited.

I was good at waiting. I could sit for as long as needed and eventually I would get my way. Patience is a virtue, as they say.

“Mossclaw, hunting!” I sighed, but stood, wordlessly following Heronfoot out of camp along with Thrushtail, his mother Rosebreeze, and her new apprentice Acornpaw.

The first thing I noticed exiting the thorn tunnel was how much better mannered Acornpaw was from his sisters. The dusty tan tom stood tall, excitement making his tail quiver but no more. He didn’t ask the obnoxious questions of a cat first out of camp, nor did he begin running about to explore every inch of the territory. The only word that came to mind to describe him was disciplined.

I admired him for that, flashing back to my first time out in the forest and how excited I had been. Raintalon had answered all my questions, however idiotic they were, and laughed as I ran around like a bee-brain. Fury came to me in a rush as the memories continued to the WindClan border and beyond.

I almost missed it when Heronfoot stopped, just barely managing to catch myself from running into his rear as the patrol came to a halt. Embarrassed, I shifted to his side, watching as the other three gathered around; Thrushtail to Heronfoot’s left, with Acornpaw standing between him and Rosebreeze. “There hasn’t been a hunting patrol near the lake in a while now,” Heronfoot commented.

“Especially near the Ancient Oak,” Thrushtail added, “that would be a fine place for Acornpaw to make his first catch.” I had turned to him as he spoke, and now the tom had turned to look at me as well, his blue eyes catching mine. He smiled, and I gave a slight smile back before turning away, my ears burning in embarrassment.

It was hard, relationship wise, to only have two litters in the apprentice’s den the entirety of one’s apprenticeship, with only one tom your age that isn’t your brother to reasonably have a crush on. That being said, Honeywhisker and I had taken turns crushing on Thrushtail, and he with both of us.

Though Honeywhisker had never really done anything to try for Thrushtail, while he usually sought me out over her. We were together for a while before both of us finally moved on, and I didn’t have time for a relationship now. . . not with my destiny.

But that didn’t mean I never entertained the idea, or wished it could have been.

He was polite, very attractive, and, as a bonus, still single.

“Mossclaw?” I blinked, hurriedly taking my gaze off Thrushtail when I realized I had began to stare. The rest of the patrol was a couple steps into the bushes, leaving the two of us still in the clearing. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed distracted lately.”

I heard the clear tones of worry in his voice, but I kept my eyes on the patrol as they drew farther away. “You can tell me, Mossclaw. You don’t have to hide away from everyone. You don’t have to hide from me.” My fur prickled as I felt his warm breath, and my breath shuddered when I turned to face him, not able to keep turned without being rude.

Yet I still couldn’t bring myself to look in his eyes. Instead I focused on a dark brown tabby swirl on his shoulder, letting that one stripe have all my attention. “I know what we had as apprentices is over, but I like you, Mossclaw. I’m still here for you.” My paws tingled as he spoke, my breath catching in my chest.

For once, I didn’t know what to do.

My heart screamed that I should push myself into Thrushtail’s fur and forget everything, yet… I didn’t want to. I wanted to feel the power rushing through my paws, I wanted to be part of the prophecy, I wanted to avenge Raintalon.

I opened my mouth, wishing to speak of all the thoughts in my head, of why we could never be. I wanted to explain everything, and tell him that I couldn’t be with him however much I dreamed I could.

“Okay.” My voice was a whisper, hardly a breeze. I turned my head away, feeling pressure in my chest so hard I thought I would burst. I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t reject him. And I couldn’t be with him either.

But I didn’t agree to anything, I struggled to rationalize. He had just said he was there for me if I needed him, he didn’t ask for us to get back together or anything… we’re just friends.

I couldn’t be with him.

He didn’t deserve a murderer.

And I knew I was just getting started.




“You know, he doesn’t have to be so snobby about it,” Halfwing whispered, leaning over to speak the words in my ear as we watched Gorsefox talking to some elder warriors. Even from here, we could hear him bragging about my sister and the kits.

It had been a moon since the two first announced they were expecting (well, just Honeywhisker would be delivering them, but with Gorsefox acting the way he was it was appropriate to speak as though half of them were kicking in his stomach as well), and the grey tom hadn’t yet laid off of the arrogant bragging of them.

What really threw me off was the complete personality switch he undertook since that day. Throughout my life, Gorsefox had always been cold and quiet, sticking to the background with only snide remarks keeping me from believing he was a bush. Now he seemed outgoing, even excited instead of being gruff.

I mean I knew she-cats went through personality swings while kitting, but I never would have thought that would apply to the tom in the arrangement.

I felt a tail flick my shoulders and then point back to Gorsefox. “I mean, look at him, all that energy could be used hunting, then maybe we wouldn’t have to do so much work.”

I gave a small huff of laughter. “We all wish.”

A small smile peeked on Halfwing’s muzzle as she purred. “Well, if wishes were fishes, we’d all be RiverClan!”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed. “But then if the silly tom did as we wished, there’d be no use for all those fish. There’d be so many squirrels on the fresh-kill pile.”

“True that.” The grey and white patched she-cat closed her eyes, yawning and then shaking out her fur as she stood. I lazily followed, stretching my shoulders. It had felt good sitting back in the sun with nothing better to do than gossip, but there was always something to do for the Clan.

Birchcloud had told us we could take the day off -- we had the sunset patrol later, and had already been on the dawn patrol to WindClan border -- I knew my paws would soon grow restless. I was never a cat to enjoy sitting doing nothing, and time training during the night only sharpened my jitteriness.

And so Halfwing and I agreed to a little contest that day.

It was a benign contest, just something fun to pass the time doing something active.

A race.

We had decided upon the route earlier that day, making sure to balance things out for each of our strengths and weaknesses. For example, the entire course wasn’t all to do with running. There was also some sections where. . . well, that comes later.

I followed the older warrior to the thorn tunnel, where the briars caught in my fur as I pushed my shoulders through. I growled playfully when Halfwing turned back to me, the lithe cat having no trouble with the thorns.

“--are you up to going into the forest now?” I heard a voice as I pushed through the last segment of the tunnel into the forest proper. The camp guard was a senior warrior, a black and grey spotted tom called Spiderfall. Halfwing was with him, standing a couple tail-lengths along the trail to provide space for me to exit.

She smiled, and I could see her flexing her toes as if she already wished to be off. “A race. Me ‘n Mossclaw have both border patrols today, so Birchcloud said we could have the day off from hunting or the noontide patrol. We didn’t want to rot away in camp, so Mossclaw suggested we do a little race to warm our paws.”

I turned to see Spiderfall smiling, the curl growing wider as Halfwing continued. “Well, you lucky gals. Wish I could be out there runnin’ too. Tell me who wins!”

And with a short chorus of ‘we will’s’ we were both off into the trees, heading towards the training hollow that was our starting line.

I was relieved that no apprentices were there as we pushed through the bushes into the sand covered clearing. Already my mind was blank of most things bar the race and excitement towards it as well as the route and what I would do to ensure my victory.

“Ready?” I said, leaving little time since we stepped foot into the clearing to when I wished to start.
Halfwing gave a small mrow of laughter, lowering her body to the ground. “Are you ready?” I took that as a yes, and prepared my own paws. It wasn’t but heartbeats later that Halfwing called to begin and we were off.

My mind was a blur throughout the entire race, both with the excitement and the bone-numbing exertion of it, that I could hardly recall the exact events of the time. I tried to put as much as I remembered here in this retelling, and I believe I had gotten the meaning of it if not in the descriptive glory that usually accompanies such stories.

I strove to control my breathing as I ran, taking deep, measured breaths in and out as my legs moved. I watched as Halfwing began to gain on me, now in front instead of beside me. But I didn’t mind. That was all part of the plan. Blood roared in my ears, pulsing to the beat of my paws. The surroundings were green, just green, the only color I cared about being the white of Halfwing in front of me.

I increased my pace a hair, nothing enough to gain lost pawsteps, but enough so that the nimble she-cat couldn’t escape my sight before we reached our first stop.

The ancient oak.

The tree was upon me faster than I thought it would be, but I hardly paused in the transition from ground to bark. Halfwing was above me, but with a couple strong pushes of my paws I could see her tail growing closer and closer. I pushed harder, striving to close off even more distance while I still could.

My ears rung with the triumphant yowl, yet I didn’t look up from my paws as I squirreled up the tree. I could only imagine Halfwing’s triumphant look as she touched paw against the branch we had marked earlier that day and begun the descent.

Though I was hot on her tail. The downward climb was infuriating, as we were both smart enough not to risk injury by rushing and carelessness. So we climbed, and while I tried to go as speedily as I could, I couldn’t close the gap any further.

When on the ground, I worked my legs harder than the first running stretch. I wasn’t trying to conserve energy any more, as in doing so I would have to give even more ground, distance I wasn’t sure I could make up.

I went all out there, and through my paws and lungs screamed, I kept relentlessly on my pace. I was surprised when I noticed Halfwing had slowed, and that we were almost level as we began to leap into the lake.

All of ThunderClan knew how to swim. We lived near a lake for StarClan’s sake, we couldn’t afford to lose warriors just because they fell in and drowned. So all apprentices learned the basics of swimming, and all the cats -- well, warriors -- had to be able to pull their own weight if everything flooded.

The third leg of the race was to swim.

From the sand where we had started, we had decided to go a certain distance, to where the land pointed out a bit with a large maple hanging over the water. The only rule was we had to swim. Touching the ground meant we lost.

The water weighed down my fur as I made it deep enough to begin paddling. I kept my muzzle well above the water, churning my paws in careful strokes. My eyes narrowed against the spray, but I was determined to win. I kept my eyes on the point, the rest blurring out of focus. And then I swam. I swam as though death itself were about to pounce on my tail.

With a soaking heave I pulled myself out of the froth and onto land. I turned back to the water, only taking the time to process Halfwing’s form standing belly-deep in the water, slogging towards me before I collapsed, breathing hard but with a grin on my face.

Few words were said while we both recovered from the race. But slowly I became more aware of my surroundings and had more energy for conversation. “You almost had me there, in the second stretch.”

“Yeah. I went so hard on the first part that by the time the second rolled around I was struggling to get my paws in order. You were amazing in the swimming; almost thought you were a fish! Or a RiverClan cat, but they are the same thing in the end minus the scales.”

“I had to work hard to get past you too.”

Pride in winning still rushed through me, though the combined force of weariness and the drowsy feel of being in the sunlight both came to overpower me and we both came to doze in and out of thoughts on the lakeside where we had collapsed.

It was midway between sun-high and sunset when we got to our paws and started home. We walked back slowly, chattering like sparrows about things with little meaning other than to share the moment of companionship between us. I enjoyed the time, having nothing of meaning to do, no responsibilities to uphold. It was a great break from the hard work of Clan life.

The thorn barrier seemed wider as I came through it from the other end, and I hardly got caught up in it at all. My stomach rumbled as the ground below me turned from soft moss to stone, and I was just preparing myself for a juicy vole when I noticed the silence in the camp.

A few seconds later, the rest of the details filled in: cats crowded in the center of the clearing, the harsh reek of ShadowClan, and above all a voice that had just begun to speak.
“ShadowClan is -- well ShadowClan -- RiverClan is attacking us!”





“ThunderClan!” I heard Scorchstar’s yowl above the clamor, and the wild discussions that broke out over the small black cat’s announcement were immediately silenced. A quiet broke over the camp, and I felt myself shifting my weight paw to paw. Somehow, the silence seemed even more panicked than before, like at any moment something would happen and everything would just….

shatter.

“We’ll send out a battle patrol. Shadefrost,” Scorchstar announced, stepping forward. “Ebonyfang, Jaggedflight, Nightflame, Spiderfall, Swallowsun, Thrushtail, Sageflower, Tallowpaw and… Mossclaw come with me and Birchcloud. Dustwind, you’re in charge until we return. Everyone else be watchful, we don’t know what is happening. Defend the camp if attacked, and no cat is allowed out of camp until we return. Acornpaw,” the small apprentice jumped then, his fur on end, “you are the Clan runner. If camp is attacked, run. Come straight to ShadowClan and find me, you understand?” The tom nodded and I found myself doing so in agreement. Scorchstar was smart, out of the older ‘paws, Acornpaw would be the most levelheaded and be able to make choices under pressure.

Then the silence broke and organization begun. The battle patrol arranged itself in the main clearing while the other cats set to work putting together an arrangement for who was responsible for whom and who would watch what. I felt fur on my side and looked over to see Halfwing, her fur still damp from our outing.

“It’s not that bad, honestly. Better than having to wait here,” I responded when she tried to apologise for the bad timing of the race and my immediate predicament. I smiled. “Rest up, we might need you.”

“You’d better tell me everything that happens,” she replied.

“Every second of it.”

“Let’s move out!”

“Be safe,” Halfwing said before bounding away to Dustwind and her orders.

As I turned to follow the patrol, I noticed a glint in the corner of my vision. I stared in Gorsefox’s direction, flicking an ear to show I had noticed him watching me so intently. His only response was to narrow his eyes before turning into the nursery, his tail disappearing into the brambles with a flick. I left camp even more puzzled to how the grey tom fit into my life.


I shook the thoughts off.

I hated things that weren’t constant.

And then the patrol was in the trees, the small black tom racing ahead with Scorchstar hard on his paws. The remainder of the ThunderClan patrol followed a bit further behind, each cat finding their own path through the trees.

We had just passed the abandoned twoleg nest when I saw a dark grey pelt slow to come up beside me. “Spiderfall?”

“You still haven’t told me the results,” he mewed, matching his stride to mine.

“It was close. Halfwing is nearly a WindClan cat when it came to running, but I was able to find my inner RiverClan during the swimming and draw ahead.” I paused as I sped ahead of Spiderfall, jumping a narrow gap between two gorse brambles and over a fallen birch. “It was amazing.”

The black-and-grey speckled tom quickly caught up as the forest started to thin leading up to the ShadowClan scentline. “Congratulations then,” he commented before dashing ahead, his tail-tip flicking.

I almost thought to be annoyed that he hadn’t shown much interest, but then noticed what Spiderfall had earlier. Most the senior warriors were bunched around Birchcloud, with heads turning to confer as they ran. Probably more detailed orders they could pass on to the rest of us during the battle.

The roars of battle travelled far through the marshy pines, and we heard the fight before the patrol had travelled a mere tree-length into the ShadowClan territory. I tipped my head. We aren’t even near camp yet. We shouldn’t --

“Get them!”

The world spun as I was thrown abruptly backwards, a sleek ginger tom occupying the route I had been taking. Pain spluttered around me, but it was nothing compared to what I saw as I was jostled into the pines.

ShadowClan was a ball of fur and claws clustered around an ancient fir. Another ring surrounded them, this one of sleek water-furred RiverClan warriors.

“All of ShadowClan is here!”

“Why did Pinestar leave camp?”

“Dawnmist!”

Cries battered my skull as I sat upright, forcing my paws back to the ThunderClan group who had fallen a few pawsteps behind as a few RiverClan warriors cut from the circle to fend off this new threat.

“ThunderClan!” Scorchstar mewed, his voice tumbling out fast as a newleaf creek, “Tallowpaw, tell Dustwind that ThunderClan camp is open to ShadowClan and the medicine cats should be ready.” The apprentice was off quicker than a hare, flying back over the creek and into the forest. “Help get ShadowClan out of here. Protect the elders, kits and injured. Get every cat into the trees as quickly as possible. There we’ll have the advantage. We’re close to useless fighting out in the open. ThunderClan! With me!”

I let out a snarl as Scorchstar leapt forward, the ThunderClan patrol crashing into the RiverClan warriors closest to the trees. I chose the ginger tom as my target, flashing my claws out as I rammed my bulk into his chest, pushing us both to the dirt. I pushed my paws into his stomach.

“You really should have stayed home.”


REDFANG’s POV

“Charpaw brought ThunderClan!”

He cheered alongside his huddled Clanmates as the forest musk swirled into the clearing just before the ThunderClan patrol burst into sight.

A massive ginger tom leapt at the forefront, his fangs bared in a dark snarl as his claws tore into a smaller grey she-cat. Shimmerstar is finally getting what she deserves, he thought, a spark of hope in his chest.

Redfang shifted to the side, slapping out a paw with renewed vigor at another RiverClan warrior to allow the ThunderClan cats into the protective ring of ShadowClan warriors. A few cats, however, attacked ferociously at the back of the RiverClan cats, pulling them away from the pine ShadowClan was sheltered around. The black tom shivered as he watched one tortoiseshell she-cat practically slice through the RiverClan crowd as if they were dead leaves.

He hissed as the RiverClan warrior advanced yet again, and sent his claws into the she-cat’s nose before she could get close enough to the circle. “We’re going to lead ShadowClan into the forest where RiverClan can’t fight. Keep the circle, protect your own.” Redfang jumped as the voice whispered in his ear.

“Yellowbelly!”

“Pass it on,” his sister said, flicking her tail to his other shoulder. Redfang gazed out into the swarm, but the she-cat wasn’t in his face any longer. He quickly turned to the cat beside him, who happened to be Oakshade, and whispered the message his sister had told him. The dark tom nodded and turned to tell the next cat in line.

“Part the lines!” Redfang hissed and hopped to the side as ThunderClan cats wedged themselves into the small gaps, strengthening the circle with bristling claws and fangs. The she-cat beside him yowled and lunged out at the RiverClan she-cat Redfang had been clawing off, grabbing her shoulders and then violently shoving her away.

She turned, blood and fur matting her claws. “Go to the inner circle. I have this section.”

Redfang shook his head. He wasn’t badly injured yet, and still had fight in him. He snarled and smacked at a younger tom that had tried to worm his way between himself and Yellowbelly. The she-cat growled deep in her throat, but a black-and-white patched tom chose that moment to dart between them, distracting her as she they both turned to haul him out with bared claws.

Redfang tensed, pushing away the slippery RiverClan cats from the circle as he waited for the other side to clear a path for them to bolt. The tortoiseshell beside him fought with precision he had never seen in ShadowClan before, each of her blows sending a cat to shelter behind the RiverClan ranks. He felt a tremor pass through his fur, glad she wasn’t his enemy in this battle.

Even when he was ready, the call to begin the retreat came as a surprise to Redfang. He hesitated, turning his head before moving and felt claws in his side when a RiverClan cat pounced on his moment of weakness. He hissed, the pain forcing his eyes wide. Then the cat was gone, the ThunderClan she-cat rolling her away with a caterwaul that made his fur crawl.

He didn’t wait -- she was more than capable of felling one warrior herself -- and dashed after the two mingled Clans, ThunderClan warriors supporting elders and wounded as they escaped the clutches of RiverClan. He spotted Yellowbelly near the rear, casting glances over her shoulder. Redfang leapt forward and came beside her in a couple short bounds. “Thank StarClan,” she gasped between breaths.

He grunted, keeping the pace as the cats forced their way into ThunderClan territory and deeper into the undergrowth. Cackles and howls of victory echoed deep after the fleeing Clan, the scent of RiverClan washing over the ShadowClan border but going no deeper.

Redfang clenched his teeth, allowing himself that one motion of anger as he focused keeping his paws clear of brambles. RiverClan would never be able to keep both territories for long, but for now. . . He glanced around at the ShadowClan cats stumbling after their saviors, exhaustion and wounds dragging them down. He didn’t want to think of how many cats weren’t able to escape.

They were in no condition to fight longer now, even with ThunderClan to aid.

ShadowClan had been defeated.




I tried to remember the battle, I really did. I closed my eyes, begging forth the fights, the blood, anything. I wanted to know, I wanted to know what I did during that battle. I wanted to know the names of the cats I had fought, how many ShadowClan warriors didn’t leave the pine tree when the rest escaped. I wanted to know how much RiverClan blood spattered the pine needles, revenge for their unforgiving attack.

I wanted to remember, I really did.

But I couldn’t. Everything was a blur of claws and fangs. And pain, claws against my shoulders and my sides and the tear in my ear. It was if it were only a dream… like the Dark Forest was the only real reality.

I ground my teeth.

I wanted to know. I needed to know.

Hawkfrost was going to kill me if I couldn’t recount my first real fight.

Weak.

“Watch out, you’re sitting on my tail!”

“Sorry,” I whispered, lifting the weight off of my leg so Foxcloud could wriggle his tail out from underneath. I felt him shifting beside me, trying to keep his space from the others crowded in the den.

I buried my nose in the moss and tried to hold back a hiss of frustration. Apart from my thoughts, the warrior’s den was now occupied by the majority of ThunderClan. Scorchstar and Birchcloud, who usually resided up on the highledge, had moved in, as well as both apprentices and Honeywhisker. Pinestar and Ferretmask were also thrown into the mix, the ShadowClan leader and deputy having no room to bed themselves.

I heard grunts from the apprentices den, ShadowClan warriors cramming themselves into the space meant to occupy much smaller cats. I knew the elder’s den would be filled with some of the lesser injured, but cats that needed to be visited during the night. I could hear the squeaks from the nursery, the moans of the cats all the way inside the medicine cave, the off and on pattering of paws that was Cricketpaw and Leopardpaw going on errands throughout the night.

Everywhere was noisy, humid, chilled with new-leaf frost, and full of fur. A paw prodded me in the side, and I shot up, unable to keep still a second longer. I tried to keep my paws out of the others’ pelts as I squirmed my way outside.

The midnight air hit me with the force of a gale-driven wave off the lake. The lake. . . I kept my paws moving, past the rumbles of the crowded camp, past the rumbles of my thoughts.

I needed out, out, out.

The thorns snagged at my fur, waving with shadows in the wind, whispering, whispering lies, holding me back. With a silent roar I forced my way out of camp and into the forest. I ignored the protesting calls of the guards, throwing myself farther and farther away from the chaos in my desperation to escape.

Branches whipped at my sides. Brown, crackling ferns threw dew on my back, frosting it slick in the icy wind.

But it was as though I was running through time, a funnel, going on and on and on with no end. . .

And then the shock of water tumbling around my paws shoved me back into reality. My jaw was bouncing in my mouth, my legs shuddering where I stood, chest fluttering with short gasps of breath.

I shivered.

The lake was still save for the minute ripples echoing from my paws. Standing there in the cold I had a certain clarity of thought. The world was large and I was small. The lake was an abyss, so deep, bottomless.

I closed my eyes.

The darkness was welcoming, calling me forward. A few more steps, a few more minutes. . .

And then I clamped my jaw shut, trying to contain the chattering. With all the effort of moving a mountain I turned in the water to bring myself to shore.

Two golden eyes flashed on the bank. I froze, even more glacier-like than before. My legs started to quake again.

No. No.

I pulled in the scraps of willpower from the corners of my mind, forcing my paws to take me one step closer.

And then another.

“Mossclaw.”

I will not break.

I am strong.

“Thrushtail,” I said stiffly. The tom’s eyes flashed with hurt, but he set his jaw, bringing himself taller. He opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something, but no sound arrived. He tried again. Paused.

Moments passed under the pale moon. A lone breeze swirled across the beach with a whisper, and I couldn’t help but flinch as it tickled my dripping paws. The forest sighed.

I don’t remember either of us moving, but suddenly we were together, my head hanging over his shoulder, his tongue warming my paws. Slowly, heat crept back into my fur, chasing out the tendrils of darkness.

I felt the prickle of eyes on my back, and cast a wary gaze over Thrushtail’s shoulder. A wavering form fluttered on the surface of the lake, only small ripples cast out where his paws brushed the silver water. Destiny, he mouthed, eyes narrowed. I hastily turned my gaze. “What is it?” Thrushtail whispered. The warmth of his voice made my ears twitch.

“Just the stars,” I lied.

He turned, following my gaze over the flat lake, the stars reflecting and glowing on its mirror surface. “They’re beautiful.” I couldn’t bring myself to look again or comment.

“Come,” he said. I followed, and time ceased to exist.

--

“Let’s get back to camp.” I nodded and stood wordlessly, following Thrushtail off the beach and back into the brush.

I couldn’t help but give one last glance over my shoulder at the lake. Hawkfrost’s eyes were chips of ice, ever piercing even when his shadow body had begun to fade in the dawn. He narrowed his eyes, challenging me, threatening me.

I bit my lip and turned my back, stepping forward to where Thrushtail was waiting, head cocked, pushing my fur into his as we walked back.

I hoped he didn’t notice the three burning trails seared into my other side, drips of blood following us like shadows as we left the beach far, far behind.


CHAPTER 18

I didn’t wake in increments like I usually did. Instead, I opened my eyes and the bramble wall of the den appeared in crystal-like clarity. Cats were beginning to stir, but after a quick glance around I knew it was only the earliest wakers and those that needed to be out before dawn on patrol.

I slipped out of the den into the pale grey morning, the slim time when neither the moon nor the sun rules the sky and only the brightest of stars are left to watch over the world below. For a moment, I wondered whether one of those stars was my mother. But before I could determine a star to ask, the red of sunrise began to bleed over the inky night and the glow of those few stars were consumed in mere entourage that heralded the sun.

A squeak came from the other side of camp, and out with the sun tumbled a few kits I didn’t know. A black-and-white patched she-cat followed, moss clamped between her teeth. Her gait was slowed by a heavy limp, the tap tap of pawsteps interrupted with a sharp hiss as she dragged a dead front paw through the sand.

“I saw you fight yesterday.” I almost jumped out of my fur at the soft voice behind me. I turned and watched a small tan she-cat pad silently closer.“You helped save us, even though you didn’t know us at all. That’s brave.”

I fumbled for a response, but nothing came. Nothing smart or snarky or arrogant. Nothing humble or kind. “She’s been this way since she was young, you know,” the tan she-cat went on. She wasn’t looking at me, but watched the black-and-white cat with the twisted paw. “She was never going to be a warrior. She knew that. But she’s still part of ShadowClan. Still useful. Cats can talk to her, and she will listen. Queens can go out safely, knowing she won’t let their kits come to harm. She can keep messages safe for those whose duties keep them from saying good morning to their loved ones. Pinestar trusts her to keep secrets if she needs to send word. She’s useful, needed. We all thought she wasn’t going to make it. That not being able to be a warrior would kill her heart. We were wrong. She’s the strongest one of us all.”

She turned her gaze to me, and a fuzziness was set over my mind. Like this wasn’t really real, and I’d blink and this she-cat would be gone. Just my imagination. The she-cat’s voice dropped lower, pain just barely concealed by her blunt report. “Appleberry died, you know. Our medicine cat. RiverClan killed her first. They would have gotten to Leopardpaw too if Twistedtalon didn’t come in with a cough. He saw two of the RiverClan warriors standing over Appleberry, Leopardpaw in the corner trying to fend them off.” I turned to look at the little she-cat, but her eyes were distant, focused on something far off. “He scared them off and raised the alarm. And now Leopardpaw is only seven moons and our Clan is left without a medicine cat to heal or guide us.” Time seemed to hang in the balance before the bass thrum of my heart sent it spinning again. “I’m Acornbee, by the way.”

“Mossclaw,” I managed, the surrealness of the conversation leaving me shaken unlike even a battle could.

The little tan she-cat nodded. “Then thank you, Mossclaw, for saving my Clan.”

Acornbee left me in silence that I guessed all ShadowClan cats innately had, slipping away with only the faintest scratch of paws and a slight breeze as she whispered -- that seemed the only word for it; whispered -- away. All that had been sitting still now roiled inside me.

RiverClan killed their medicine cat?

The pieces started to fall into place: that’s why only Cricketpaw and Leopardpaw were running between the dens the night before. I had noted the petite golden spotted she-cat as a medicine cat apprentice as she scampered beside Cricketpaw, shadowing the older apprentice around the unfamiliar camp. But I had assumed Appleberry had been in with Featherheart treating the more serious cases.

It also explained why ShadowClan was so desperate for help, I noted. Leopardpaw couldn’t have been more than seven moons, hardly anything into her training. Without a medicine cat to heal their injured and read signs for the Clan. . . they hardly had a choice in begging for aid.

And what a low blow indeed, the intentional murder of a medicine cat. Which led into the main mystery still left unsolved: why?


“I heard Shimmerstar thought Pinestar was meeting up with Reedblaze!” The squeak came from behind the warrior’s den, and I quickly pushed my way there, a snarl on my face.

The small space was cramped, but I managed to shove most of my shoulders between the ferns and the stone wall, getting a good glare at the cats inside. “You should know better than to gossip behind others’ backs,” I hissed from between my teeth, “any cat could hear you from in here! What if I were Ferretmask? Pinestar?”


“We shouldn’t harbor strangers when we don’t even know what they did!” Ebonyfang argued. The younger warrior glanced over his shoulder, and the other faces behind nodded to his words: Iceshade, Nightflame. Behind them, Acornpaw sat with his head down, as if trying to hide from my scolding. Tallowpaw pressed up beside him. Both looked small in this cramped clearing.

I pulled myself out of the opening, shooing the younger warriors out. They complied with little resistance, though the three kept to muttering with each other, casting me foul looks as they found their way to the other side of camp. I rolled my eyes, but at least in open sight, I hoped they wouldn’t be stupid enough to speak so rudely.

Except they do have a point, I reasoned, turning away from their conspiracies.

By the time I had gotten myself situated as far as I could from the trio, swallow in my claws, the ShadowClan cats began to peek out from where they had slept. A few strolled right into the midst of the ThunderClan morning bumble, and I noted the deputy, Ferretmask, leading these actions alongside a few other ShadowClan warriors.

Yet despite his confident small talk with the others, after watching him for a while I could pick out his nervous ticks: the way his eyes flicked around during pauses, how his tail wandered patterns in the air. I didn’t blame him one bit. Letting down your guard in another’s camp, even if that other did just save you from death, was the quickest way to get stabbed in the back.

Following the deputy came the others, slowly picking their way as if the sandy clearing was covered with stones or thorns, but the stares they were recieving were probably just as sharp. But hopefully less likely to draw blood, I thought.

Through all this, I saw a familiar glint of green eyes followed by a flash of golden fur. I waited for Honeywhisker to come to me, laughing inwardly when she took the longest route in order to avoid the ShadowClan cats now lumped in the center of the clearing like a hedgehog rolled into a ball to protect its soft inside.

Honeywhisker glared at them for a good few heartbeats before settling down beside me with a huff. I watched her progression with surprise. It wasn’t as if we were on bad terms, my sister and I, but we haven’t seen eye-to-eye since, well, ever. And since she had gotten together with Gorsefox, we had only become that much more distant. Even more than me and my feather-headed brother. So it was odd that she chose to come to me in this time.

Though she didn’t keep her reasons quiet for long.


She was never good at that, especially when there was something to complain about.

“There’s three of their queens in the nursery. Three! Bringing their foul stench to taint the nursery my kits will soon have to live in. What will happen when the first thing they smell is that? The first kits they play with being ShadowClan scum?” Her voice was low, breaking the harsher syllables into a growl with a hiss just barely held in check.

I tried to keep from rolling my eyes, I really did. “Look, Honey--”

“We’d like to call all cats into the clearing for a meeting!” Scorchstar’s deep yowl broke up all conversation before setting the whole hollow to a simmer. Cats gathered tentitively below, ShadowClan and ThunderClan grouping together, repelling each other like oil and water.

I looked up to the Highledge, not surprised to see the dark pelt of Pinestar melting into the shadows alongside the bulkier ThunderClan leader, only Scorchstar’s paws shining bright against the dark stone. His fiery paws and fiery eyes, embers against the night. Like fire. I shuddered, but didn’t know why, as the breeze was warm.

“Why didn’t he use the traditional call?”

I shrugged, not needing to look to recognize Thrushtail’s voice as he came up on my other side, leaving Honeywhisker to be, grumbling on her own. She should have known she wouldn’t get my sympathies. “He probably wanted to make sure he included the ShadowClan cats too. It wouldn’t do for him to open his camp to them, yet speak about them as if they didn’t exist. No reason to anger them for such a petty thing as superiority.” As if needing to call for aid didn’t already hurt their pride enough.

“Cats of ThunderClan.” I turned back to the highledge at Pinestar’s shrill voice. Much different from Scorchstar’s deep rumble. “ShadowClan thanks you for your aid, opening your camp and offering your claws to save cats that are not your blood.” I dipped my head, knowing how much it cost in face to say such things.

Pinestar looked about to speak again, but backed a bit away so Scorchstar could take her spot at the front of the stone. “ThunderClan’s camp will be open to you so long as you need shelter. Cats of ThunderClan! ShadowClan may not be our blood, but they are still our kin. They will be cared for as one of us, and fall under our protection until we can--”

“Well why did they get attacked in the first place?” A sharp call interrupted. Heads turned, trying to find the source, but no cat stepped forth. Muttering was cast around the clearing, several others echoing the same question.

Scorchstar let Pinestar take the spot at the head of the stone. “ShadowClan has been asking the same question.” The black she-cat paused. “I will give you the answer I gave them: I do not know.”

“So RiverClan attacked your camp without a reason why?”

“LIAR!”

“Keeping things hidden from your own Clan!”

“Silence!” Scorchstar yelled. “We will not treat our guests in such a way! Does ThunderClan have a scrap of honor?” The more fierce outcries were hushed, but a dull murmur of cats whispering still rang across the hollow. “Now, as I was about to announce: ShadowClan will be staying for as long as it is not safe for them to return home. I will not be responsible for sending queens and kits to their deaths. They will be added to our patrols and are expected to stock our fresh-kill alongside ThunderClan.”

Pinestar dipped her head. “We may be cast out from our territory, but we are still strong. We will not burden ThunderClan for the kindness they have shown in giving us shelter.”

“Pinestar, Featherheart and I will wait on the ShadowClan border to meet with Shimmerstar. Their attack was unprovoked, as far as we can tell, and I’d like to hear justification for her actions. We will find out as much as we can, and find an arrangement to bring the Clans back to peace. But in the meantime, we are expected to co-exist. Help your fellow brothers and sisters in this time of need.”

Pinestar stepped forth again. “Scorchstar is our leader so long as we are within his Clan’s territory. His word is law, and we would do well to abide by it.” I blinked, surprised. I was at least expecting the black she-cat to announce herself as leader of her own cats, or at least deputy to them. Did Pinestar give up her power so easily? Or was there something else going on? I narrowed my eyes as the two leaders retreated back into the cave behind the ledge, watching the entrance long after the cats had already disappeared.

“Mossclaw! Do I need to call you Mossears? Your patrol has been out of camp for ages!” Birchcloud’s green eyes were flashing, but I doubted she was really angry at me. More likely the white she-cat was stressed due to the added pressure the ShadowClan cats put on her. I flicked my ears in apology and jumped out to join my patrol, who hadn’t really gotten as far as I wished they had.

Running, running, ever running
from the murky depths
of those pale green eyes.


Blood and claws
gore and fangs
injuries all around
Yowling, screaming, writhing in pain
all because of those pale green eyes.


Fear,
pain,
hate and anger
cat turned on cat,
Clan on Clan
confusion and disarray,
who's on your side?
Your enemy?
Your friend?
You find they're the same.
All because of those pale green eyes.


Why, oh, why
did I watch and wait
to see how it would unfold?
Death and pain
anger and hate
all because of those pale green eyes.


Dreams turned nightmares,
visions and sights
all I could see
were those pale green eyes.


A queen she called herself
she thought she was doing right.
But at what cost?
A dictator
a murderer
a hater
Death.
All were inside
those pale green eyes.


Nothing was right
everything was wrong.
Cats killed
borders blurred
friendships shattered
enemies made
Death. Death. Death.
Prisoners and allies
friends turned foes,
foes turned friends
all because of those pale green eyes.


All I wanted
my only wish
was to see those pale green eyes
just one last time
so I could finally do
what I should have done all those years ago-
watch the life drain out of them.

ϟ - Prologue ◊◊◊

Pale gray light spilled out of the half-moon, shedding a light silver cast on everything below. A creamy she-cat slipped silently over a boulder, the moonlight reflecting off her fur, causing it to shine a brilliant silver. She stepped down onto a thin ledge dug into the side of the giant boulder and shivered slightly before starting slowly across. The river frothed a tail-length beneath her paws, occasionally sending a few drops of water up to splash her paws. The night was silent, even the crickets had stopped chirping in the dark forest on the top of the cliff high above.

The white cat slipped into a thin crack between two boulders and into a soft light. She smiled and looked up at the hanging moss that was dripping off the rock face. The moss was emitting a faint green glow and made the cavern look as if it were sparkling. It was a smaller cave, only about the size of the apprentices’ or elders’ dens.

She let her tail slide across the side of the cave as she walked to the back, making it sway and shimmer. Purring, she curled up into one of the dips in the back. Like the rest of the cave, it was filled with the soft moss. It sunk down when she lay in it, conforming to her shape and springing around her sides, wrapping her in a soft cocoon. With a relaxed sigh she touched her nose to the cool moss and closed her eyes.

Suddenly, her eyes flicked open. A blinding light was shining on her left, but it wasn’t green like the moss, it was a white light, colorless as a spirit. She squinted and stepped out of the moss nest, causing it to spring around wildly until it slowly lost momentum and settled back into place. She stared into the light until her eyes stung from the glare, but nothing was visible behind the veil of whiteness. She walked sideways out of the concentrated beam, still keeping her eyes trained on the source of the light while shifting her paws on the cool earth. Immediately, the light dimmed, revealing a patch of moss glistening like starlight. She saw the plethora of reflective dust hovering in the air where it was struck by the beam, a pathway of tiny stars leading a twinkling trail to the nest she had laid in.

A soft breeze rippled through the cave, tickling her ears and making the starlit moss flow gently backward like a wave of water. The wind whispered echoes back to her, giving hints to an opening behind the moss. She twitched her ears instinctively against the breeze and padded delicately across the ground, letting little fragments of moss curl between her rock-hardened pads as she paced towards the shimmering moss. She slowly pushed her nose into the moss and took a deep breath at the brisk air that flowed from behind. A cold tingle entered her body, sending a shiver down her spine.

She heard a whisper coming from behind the sheet of moss, ever so softly calling her forward; the voice as thin as a blade of grass. She stepped through the glittering curtain and let the moss slide smoothly over her back before dropping back into place behind her tail. Her gaze took in the tunnel walls in awe. There were tiny cracks like kit claw-scratches spider webbing the rounded tunnel.

She stopped to scrutinize the lighter cracks, intrigued by their complex designs like a flowing mosaic etched into the walls. As she was putting her head nearer to one of the crevices, a force suddenly pulled her straight until she was walking down the tunnel against her will. She tried to pull back in vain, fearful of the unknown force, but it only made her pawsteps shudder helplessly as they kept moving her forward. She lashed out against the force pulling against her with more ferocity, straining her muscles and unsheathing her claws to hold onto the ground, but it didn’t even lessen her forward momentum. She let out a heaving sigh of defeat and went limp, letting her paws move of their own will as she traveled down the tunnel.

Abruptly, the force released her, letting her limp body fall to the floor in a heap. She yowled in surprise and leaped back up with a sudden energy she didn’t know she still possessed after her futile struggles. Her fur bristled as she spun around; looking for the reason she was released. A small crevice was narrowed out of the side of the tunnel, sloping gently downward.

I would have missed it if I hadn’t stopped right in front of it, she thought. She calmed down as she realized this was where she was supposed to be. Knowing the force wan't going to push her any farther now that she was at her destination, she wanted to further investigate the wandering lines. She put her eye up to one of the slender cracks and looked into it, wondering how far back they went. A dim light radiated through it, making it turn to a sandy yellowish-orange. It looked as if it continued on a long ways down and even farther back into the stone. She studied it, enthralled by its simple beauty. After some time she realized she was wasting what little time she had until she was called back to the main cavern. Reluctantly, she turned down the smaller tunnel, similar to the last one.

Up ahead, she noticed something was blocking the tunnel. “Another starlit curtain of moss,” she observed, speaking to herself. She trotted inside and gasped. It was an exact replica of the cave she was in before, but larger and filled with the shining cats of StarClan. They wandered around the roomy cavern or sat down sharing tongues.

She twisted through them until she made it to the middle of the cave where a lone cat was sitting in the center of a ring of purplish stones. It was the only place without the moss.

“Skywatcher!” she exclaimed, pushing her way through the last few tail-lengths of jumbled cat to step gently into the small and barren circle.

The glow of the moss reflected of the old cat’s face, putting a sparkle in his deep blue eyes and defining each grey hair on his muzzle. His mouth opened a crack and a low, monotone voice spoke through him: “three cats have been chosen to unite three beings that cannot be united; Sky and Storm will spawn the evil and the two must become three or SkyClan will be no more.” Skywatcher then shook out his starry fur and slumped down slightly before regaining his posture. “Echosong, find the three,” he said in his normal voice. His shape flickered and was now dimming, growing less solid every heartbeat. “This is the new Whispering Cave,” he said.

Echosong stared at his shape until he had completely faded from sight and only the echo of his voice remained in the cave. She stood, frozen, as she hastily tried to remember every word the wise cat had said. As she stood up to leave, the moss on the walls started to glow, soft at first, but growing brighter and brighter until Echosong had to close her eyes against the harsh light. As soon as her eyelids snapped shut, she felt her body jerk and pull. She opened her eyes in fear and found herself sitting in the old Whispering Cave. She sat and watched as the moss around her faded until the last light stopped shining with the spirits of StarClan.


Chapter 1
ECHOSONG's POV

“Leafstar, Leafstar! I have a message from Starclan!” Echosong said excitedly as she entered the leader’s den. She barely felt when she transitioned from the hard stone trail to the soft sands of the cave. She scrambled into the cave to sit just inside the cave and out of the wind. Her fur was spiked out erratically from her trip back to camp from the Whispering Cave. She had been so eager to tell Leafstar, she didn't bother to fix her fur.

“At moon-high, Echosong? Can’t it wait till sun-up?” Leafstar complained, getting up from her nest. She reluctantly shook her fur out and walked over to meet the young medicine cat at the cave entrance. She yawned and flicked her ears to show she was listening.

Echosong's eyes glew as she remembered the meeting with the starry cats. “I dreamed of Skywatcher! He told me StarClan had moved to another Whispering Cave down a long tunnel and gave me a prophecy that said-“

“Slow down Echosong. So Starclan moved. Does that mean we have to move too?” Leafstar inquired, sitting down in front of Echosong. Her tail twitched as she talked slowly to calm the younger cat down.

“No,” Echosong replied, “it’s not far. Probably just out of our territory. It’s connected to the old Whispering Cave.”

“And what’s the prophecy?” Leafstar asked.

Echosong took a deep breath and closed her eyes, stretching her memory to try to recall each word the exact way Skywatcher had spoken them. She knew that each word had a special meaning and even one wrong one could turn the meaning skidding off another direction. “He said, ‘three cats have been chosen to unite, Three beings that cannot be united; Sky and Storm will spawn the evil, and the two must become three or SkyClan will be no more.’ I came straight here. What do you think will happen Leafstar?”

Leafstar turned around slowly and started towards her nest, talking as she squished down the fluffy moss. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it tonight. Go get some sleep and then you can figure it out in the morning.”

“But this is my first prophecy. I need to figure this out,” Echosong complained.

“And if you don’t get enough sleep you can’t either. We’ll talk in the morning with Sharpclaw. Then we can see if we should make an announcement to keep watch,” Leafstar said firmly, settling down in her nest. Her tail lay flung over the edge and her head rested gently on a ball of wadded raven feathers.

“Fine, but I have a feeling that this prophecy will happen sooner than later and we’ll need to be prepared,” Echosong warned defiantly. She stood up abruptly and almost hit her shoulder on the sloping wall.

“Of course it’s important Echosong! Why else would StarClan send it? But I don’t think they would send it at moonhigh the day it’s going to happen either. We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Leafstar mewed. Echosong could hear the exasperation coating her voice. “You can go now Echosong,” she said, laying back down her head and closing her bright green eyes.

Echosong turned and left the cave, dipping her head to the leader even when she knew she couldn't see her. She kept her head bent and tail lowered, ashamed at her behavior towards her leader. She knew she shouldn't have let her excitement taint her decisions. She started walking down the rocky slope towards the medicine cat’s den.

Hopefully it won’t rain, she thought, smelling the dampness and leaping down the ledge at the last tail-length of the path and entering her den, it’s been hard enough feeding the clan this leaf-fall.

Walking over to the cleft where she kept her herbs, she inhaled sharply, enjoying their fragrant smell. She sighed contentedly and walked farther into the medicine cat's cave. She padded over to the fresh moss in her den and lay down thinking about the strange dream she had in the Whispering Cave. She didn’t even realize when she finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.




Cherrytail's POV

“Get up Cherrytail it’s past sun-up and it’s assessment day!” Rockpaw mewed excitedly, pouncing on her and making the feathers in her nest scatter all over the den floor.

“I can’t go anywhere with you on top of me clumsy furball. Get off and stop acting a kit the first time out of the nursery. Maybe I should tell Leafstar to postpone the assessment until next green-leaf,” she growled shaking the scraps of moss and feathers off her fur.

“Sorry, Cherrytail. I’ll put your nest back together while you eat. I ate before I came,” Rockpaw muttered, his head and tail drooping.

Cherrytail walked out of her den annoyed, her tail lashing. She didn’t like to be that rude to Rockpaw- he was still an apprentice- but she was in the middle of a dream.

She was running, her paws felt tireless under the canopy of the forest. The pine needles soft under her pads. Then she stopped at the base of a tree. It was the biggest one she had ever seen. It was an oak in the middle of the pine forest, with long branches and a hole in the bottom big enough for a cat to fit through. She walked over and was about to enter the cave-like hole when Rockpaw woke her up. She’d had this dream before but that was the closest she’d ever been to the hole.

“Watch out mouse-brain,” Sharpclaw growled. Cherrytail snapped out of her thoughts. She had almost run into him on her way to the fresh-kill pile. “And stop daydreaming. It’s your apprentice’s assessment today. You better wake up and get ready.”

“I was on my way to the fresh-kill pile,” Cherrytail said indignantly, mad at herself for not paying more attention. “I have a lot of things on my mind today.” Including being pounced on, weird dreams, and the assessment today, she added silently.

“Well I hope you pay better attention to Rockpaw. You don’t want him failing on your behalf,” Sharpclaw growled turning around and leaving towards Leafstar’s den.

Sharpclaw can be such a pain in the tail, Cherrytail thought continuing across the warriors cave to the fresh-kill pile. There wasn’t much, just a squirrel, a finch and a crow. The hunting patrol hadn’t gone out yet. And they probably won't because the apprentices will be hunting for them!Cherrytail surmised, looking at all the warriors lounging around the warriors' cave.

She wasn’t very hungry, so she took the finch and walked over to the corner where her brother was eating a mouse. “Hey, Sparrowpelt,” she said, her voice muffled by the finch’s feathers. She lay down beside him. “I’m nervous for the assessment. I feel like the apprentice. Not the mentor.”

Sparrowpelt twitched his whiskers in amusement. “I’m excited. Tinypaw’s really good at hunting. She caught a huge squirrel yesterday and insisted on carrying it back even though it was almost as big as her. The first thing she did was give it to Petalnose in the nursery. She’ll make a great warrior.”

“Rockpaw is great too. He can scent prey halfway across the territory. It’s just I had this dream and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m also scared I’ll mess up Rockpaw’s assessment,” Cherrytail admitted.

“Well just don’t think about it then. Think about Rockpaw’s warrior ceremony and how important for both of you to have him pass. It’ll be fine. You have Clovertail to help with the assessment too. Be glad you don’t have Sharpclaw as your partner. He’s been grumpy today,” Sparrowpelt said with a glint in his eyes.

“Well, I guess that’s a good thing,” Cherrytail said, purring. Her brother always knew how to cheer her up. It will be impossible to fail, Cherrytail thought more confidently, both of our apprentices were great. All we have to do is try our best and everything will be fine.

“Thanks, Sparrowpelt. I feel better now. Hope you do well,” she mewed, getting up.

“Hope you do well too,” he purred, flicking his tail over her shoulders comfortingly before returning to his mouse.

Cherrytail walked down the trail to the apprentices' den, the rock wet and slippery with dew. Dampness soaked into her pelt and she shivered. Leaf-bare was coming.

The clouds were heavy with rain, but Cherrytail thought she could see a break in the clouds. It was just over the treetops, barely a smudge, but she desperately hoped she was right. A rainstorm would make it harder for both of them.

“Rockpaw!” Cherrytail called as she entered the den. As he came towards her, she sat down on the den floor. He sat down in front of her, his tail curling over his paws. “Before we meet up with Clovertail, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for being so mad at you this morning. I really shouldn’t have. Are you still excited for your assessment?” Cherrytail asked, shifting her weight from paw to paw.

“Of coarse!” Rockpaw mewed, leaping up and dashing to the entrance of the cave.

“Let’s go then,” Cherrytail meowed, barely holding back a purr of amusement. She got up and went to the entrance to stand beside Rockpaw. “Lead the way.”

Cherrytail padded up the slope behind him up to the warriors den where they found Sparrowpelt, Tinypaw, Leafstar and Clovertail already waiting at the mouth of the cave.

“Now we’re only waiting for Patchfoot and Bouncepaw,” Leafstar said as Sharpclaw appeared from inside the cave. A couple of heartbeats later, Patchfoot and Bouncepaw scrambled up the last few tail-lengths of the path.

“So,” Leafstar started, “Sharpclaw, you’ll be Bouncpaw’s hunting partner, I’ll be with Tinypaw, and Clovertail will be with Rockpaw. Is that clear? Apprentices, you may go and hunt wherever you want inside the territory. Your mentors and partners will follow and watch you but you won’t see them. At sunhigh, your hunting partners will show themselves. You must give them instructions on where to go and how to help. This is the second part of the assessment. Good luck to all of you.” After Leafstar’s speech, the apprentices darted out of the cave and everyone else on the ledge followed behind.

Rockpaw turned and headed for the forest. Good choice, Cherrytail thought her body pressed down to the ground creeping forward, he’ll find lots of prey there and protection if it starts to rain. She scented the air, thrush. Rockpaw had smelled it too and was creeping towards it on steady paws. Now he was only a fox-length away. He gathered his muscles, leaped, and came up with the limp body of the thrush in his jaws.

Cherrytail almost leaped out of the holly bush she was hiding under to congratulate him. Pride swelled her chest as Rockpaw buried his prey at the base of a beech tree and went deeper into the forest. Cherrytail followed a few fox-lengths behind, stopping whenever he stopped as to not alert him of her presence. Rockpaw came out into a clearing and Cherrytail almost followed him.

She backtracked a little ways and found a clump of bracken with a clear view of the meadow. By then she could only locate Rockpaw by the faint movements of grass and fern. She opened her mouth and scented the air. Rabbit. Rockpaw was stalking it.

Suddenly, the rabbit burst out of the brambles with Rockpaw right behind. Cherrytail watched as the rabbit turned and raced towards her. Rockpaw was gaining on it and took a flying leap towards it. His claws found fur and he quickly nipped it on the neck and thanked StarClan for its life.

Rockpaw was now only a few tail-lengths away from the treeline and another fox-length away from her hiding spot. He turned around quickly, his mouth open tasting for scents. Clovertail appeared from behind a clump of ferns and began walking toward Rockpaw.

Cherrytail started to follow too. Wanting to ask why she was not hiding, wanting to tell her the assessment wasn’t over. But then she realized it was sunhigh and Clovertail was supposed to come out for partner hunting.

“Mousebrain,” Cherrytail muttered, walking silently back to the bracken. Rockpaw was talked to Clovertail, probably telling her his strategy, and then they both set off in the direction of the gorge. Cherrytail waited a few heartbeats before following. She crept along closer than she should have, but she wanted to hear them too.

“We should try for a bigger bird, like a pigeon or a crow, which we couldn’t catch alone. I’ll climb a tree, while you go around and scare it up to me. I’ll drop down on it and you can help me pin it down and kill it,” Rockpaw explained.

It was an unusual strategy, one not used or taught. I’ll tell Leafstar about this, Cherrytail thought. She opened her mouth to check for scents and immediately smelled crow. She padded silently forward and slipped under a bramble bush close to the crow. She seen Rockpaw’s pelt flash as he scrambled up the trunk and out onto the lowest branch. His ears down, tail still. Clovertail ran out from behind a clump of ferns hissing furiously. The crow took off flying and cawing loudly. A gray pelt came crashing down on top of the crow making its feathers fly wildly in all directions. Clovertail flung herself on the crow and their combined weight made it drop to the ground.

Rockpaw spun around and neatly bit the crow’s neck, breaking it. He then leaped up in the air, twisting and landing on his paws.

“I’m so glad that worked,” he purred. “All the prey will be gone here because of that alarm call. Let’s go to the forest border before the assessment is over. There will be lots of mice now that the beech nuts are on the ground,” Rockpaw suggested, dragging the crow to a clear patch of dirt under the maple he had climbed to catch it. Both cats were needed to bury the huge bird.

They then started off towards the border with Cherrytail padding hidden behind. They were soon running, fast but silent through the undergrowth. It wasn’t long before Cherrytail could smell the scent-marks that lined the border.

“Cherrytail! Cherrytail!” Rockpaw yowled. “I know this is my assessment, but I smell weird cats at the borderline and Clovertail said it was alright if I called you. The assessment is almost over anyways.”

Cherrytail came out from beneath the thorn bush she was hiding under. She parted her jaws to scent the air; she did notice a faint smell of cat.

“This could be part of your assessment,” Cherrytail said to Rockpaw. “Track it and tell me what the cat did and where it went. There hasn’t been a patrol around here since last sunrise.”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly. He opened his mouth and started to follow the scent. It traveled in for a little while and then split into three different scents.

“Cherrytail,” Rockpaw said, “there were three different cats. One went ahead...he caught a mouse! On our territory! He ate it right here,” Rockpaw said gesturing to a spot a few tail-lengths away, his fur bristling. “Then they turned back out of the territory. I don’t think they knew they crossed a border; it was definitely a patrol though. They only came here to hunt,” Rockpaw said.

“Well, we better go collect your prey and head back to camp. Leafstar’s going to want to know about this. First the upcoming leaf-bare, now rouge cats stealing prey. We’re going to need more patrols,” Clovertail said turning around the way they came. “I’ll get the crow you two get the rest.” She disappeared under the trees only her voice carrying over to the two cats.

“Let’s get going Rockpaw,” Cherrytail said going in the direction of the meadow. They crossed the meadow and Rockpaw dug up his rabbit, staggering under the weight.

“That’ll feed Petalnose and the kits,” Cherrytail said purring. “Let’s get your thrush.” They walked, slowly because of Rockpaw and his rabbit, back to the beech where Rockpaw buried his thrush.

Cherrytail fetched it and the continued along the trail back to camp. When they returned they found camp empty except for Petalnose and the kits, who came squealing over to Rockpaw.

“Did you really catch that rabbit? It could feed the whole clan!” Sagekit told him excitedly.

“You must have run faster than StarClan to catch it!” Mintkit said.

Cherrytail walked over to Petalnose and sat down beside her. “Rockpaw did really well,” Petalnose mewed.

“He also caught a crow. Clovertail went back to get it,” Cherrytail exclaimed, purring in pride for her apprentice.

“You trained him very well. I’m glad he’ll be made a warrior,” Petalnose said looking over at Rockpaw playing with her kits.

“Thanks,” Cherrytail said licking her chest in embarrassment.

“Here comes Patchfoot, Sharpclaw and Bouncepaw,” Petalnose reported, looking over Cherrytail’s shoulder, her tail twitching.

“Bouncepaw was great,” Patchfoot said coming up and dropping two mice at his paws. “Besides the mice he caught a sparrow and a squirrel.”

“Hope Leafstar’s back soon. I need to tell her something,” Cherrytail said. “We smelled a few rogue cats at the forest border.”

“She’s here now,” Sharpclaw said coming up so silently behind her she almost jumped. “She’s at her den. She told me to tell all the mentors to come to her den after dropping their prey off at the fresh-kill pile,” Sharpclaw said bounding up the cliff in that direction.

Cherrytail picked up the thrush, said a muffled good-bye, and turned to go to the warriors' den. She dropped off the thrush on the huge fresh-kill pile and left for Leafstar's den. She was the last one there. She quickly sat down beside Sparrowpelt.

“Now, do you think your apprentices are ready to become warriors?” Leafstar asked.

“I do,” Patchfoot said.

“I do,” Cherrytail and Sparrowpelt echoed.

“We still need to hear the other assessors at the ceremony like always but with the fresh-kill pile so big I don’t think anyone will have anything bad to say.”

“Leafstar?” Cherrytail said. “While we were at the forest border Rockpaw scented cat on our side of the scent line. We followed it and there were scents of three cats. One made a kill. He ate it right there. Then the scent went back out of the border.”

“That’s bad news. I’ll announce we need more patrols on that border later. Thanks Cherrytail,” Leafstar said, a flicker of emotion crossing her eyes before she continued. “And if there is nothing else anyone wants to say I need to get back to other businesses.” She got up and took the trail to the medicine cat’s den, clearly dismissing the mentors.

Cherrytail left Leafstar’s den relieved the situation will be taken care of and her apprentice made a warrior. She happily headed towards the warrior’s den where she knew a sparrow and a nap were waiting for her before the ceremony at dusk.



Chapter 2
Eagle's POV

“Great job hunting, Eagle, that rabbit looks good,” Smoke said, looking at it longingly. “I only caught a mouse.”

“Well at least you won’t go hungry today,” Eagle replied for once unwilling to share with one of his friends. “I’m going to share it with Ice. Our kits are coming soon and I want them to be strong.” He left with the rabbit towards the fern clump where he and Ice had their den, feeling regret for not sharing when he saw the mildly hurt look cross Smoke's face.

The clearing was filled with cats. They all traveled as a group, moving all Greenleaf to another territory where they spent leaf-bare. Cats came and left the group as they pleased, and everycat hunted in small groups or by themselves.

It was a bad way to live, Eagle thought, but Ice and the kits wouldn’t survive the leaf-bare if we were alone. Even here, only a few cats would help him if he didn’t catch enough for them. Smoke and Maple probably would, and Moss wasn’t a bad cat either.

Eagle stumbled through the fern barrier of their nest and dropped the rabbit at Ice’s paws, exhausted from his long day of hunting. “Thanks for the rabbit Eagle. I really need to rest before the kits come. It will be any day now. Hopefully you’ll be there to see them,” She purred, tearing into the soft flesh of the rabbit’s stomach.

“Hopefully. If they wait any longer, you’ll be too big to move!” He said pointing with his tail to her already big stomach. “I’ll go out hunting early tomorrow so I can spend more time with you. Wake me up before sunrise tomorrow Ice. I probably won’t be able to wake myself.” He plopped down on their nest. “I will,” Ice said soothingly, “Just get some sleep.” The last thing Eagle remembered was Ice’s tongue softly brushing down his fur before he fell asleep.
_________________________________________________________________

Eagle was running across the forest floor. Following a pure white cat. For some reason, he knew it was his sister, Snow, who died as a kit. She led him through the trees deeper and deeper until Eagle emerged into a clearing.

The first thing he noticed was that Snow was gone, the second was that there was a giant pile of boulders in the middle of the clearing. Eagle sniffed around trying to find her scent. He walked around the base of the boulders. When he reached the far side he saw a cleft in the rock.

“Come on Eagle,” Snow said her voice echoing up the narrow tunnel, “One shall become three before there is peace. Find the others Eagle. They are looking for you too.” She started to go further into the tunnel.

“Snow! Wait! I want to see you again! Snow!” Eagle yelled, and as soon as he was about to follow her, darkness slammed upon him and he felt Ice’s paw prodding him awake.

_________________________________________________________________

Fern's POV

The forest floor cool against her paws, her weight balanced perfectly as she stalked the mouse. She pounced and landed directly on it, biting it in the neck, tasting the mouse’s warm blood. She took it over to the base of a walnut to eat her freshly killed prey.

“Good one Fern,” Ash said as he and Rain came out from hiding.

“Next one’s mine!” Rain declared, tackling Fern to the ground playfully.

“Get off of me! You’ll scare away all the prey,” Fern said, rolling over and using her weight to smother Rain.

“It’s fine. This part of the forest is rich in prey,” Rain said, pulling herself up and out from under Fern.

They both started to lick the dirt off their pelts.

“It doesn’t feel right. There are scents of lots of different cats here. We should go somewhere else. What if they see us?” Ash said looking around nervously, his mouth agape checking for scents.

“It’s not like it’s their land or anything. Cats travel, hunting wherever they can. The forests are meant for everyone to share,” Rain said, her ears perked up in astonishment, all playfulness gone, “Isn’t that right Ash? Those cats have no claim on a prey-rich part of forest.”

“Well,” Ash started, “that’s not the way everycat thinks Rain. Some cats stay in one prey-rich place their whole lives. They probably use this place a lot. That’s why we smell so many cats here. We better leave now. There’s always prey in other places and we can even tell some of the others not to hunt there. It’s not like any will listen though.” He snorted as he started to race through the trees.

I wonder why he’s so cranky, Fern thought, but he has a point, it smells like many cats hunt here,and often. As they headed back towards the clearing, Fern saw a rustle in the bushes up ahead. Before she could even scent the air, Rain sprang into the ferns and came up with a huge squirrel in her jaws.

“That was amazing Rain!” Fern said running over to her, “I didn’t even know it was there.”

“Let’s share,” Rain suggested, bringing her squirrel under a nearby holly bush.

Fern dropped down and crawled through the tight space under the branches. “You both eat first. I already caught a mouse.” She crouched down in front of the entrance they had made, looking out into the forest.

As soon as they had finished eating and buried the rest of the squirrel, they started back to the clearing.

“Race you!” Rain yelled, darting off through the undergrowth.

“No fair, you got a head start!” Fern complained, starting after her. Fern put on a burst of speed and now was only a fox-length behind her and catching up fast.

“I’m coming too!” Ash called, running fast even though he was seasons older than the two she-cats.

Fern glanced over her shoulder to see Ash running through the forest almost a tree-length behind them. She purred in amusement we’re way faster than him.

She looked back ahead to see a bramble thicket a tail-length in front of her. She unsheathed her claws trying to grip on the forest floor and stop her momentum, but she was going too fast. “Help me!” she yowled, stuck in the brambles.

Ash came running through the ferns surrounding one side of the thicket followed by Rain.

“You’re sure stuck in there,” Rain said.

“We’ll help you out,” Ash said, “and try not to wiggle so much, your fur is already tangled in the thorns.”

Ash and Rain started to nip the bramble stalks off the bush and soon they were loose enough for Fern to scramble indignantly out, although some of her long tan fur was left behind on the thorns.

“Thanks guys,” Fern said, starting to groom some of the thorns out of her fur.

“Anytime,” Ash said, “Although I do hope it won’t happen every sun-high. We better get back now. You really do need a good wash.”

The three cats left the bush, running slower through the last part of the forest.



Chapter 3
Cherrytail's POV

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Rockpile for a clan meeting!” Leafstar yowled, jumping on to Highrocks, the sun setting behind her and only her outline visible.

Cherrytail gulped down the last of her mouse and jumped outside and into the clearing, now filled with cats. She walked over and sat next to Sparrowpelt with the mentors her tail twitching with anticipation. This is what it feels like to be a mentor, she thought, Rockpaw deserved this.

“Sit still,” Clovertail hissed quietly trying to keep the three apprentices from moving as she groomed their fur.

“We’re fine Mother we just washed,” Tinypaw said calmly, stepping away when she noticed Leafstar call them towards the base of the boulder, her brothers following.

“Patchfoot,” Leafstar said, “has your apprentice Bouncepaw learned the skills of a warrior? And does he understand what the warrior code means to every cat?”

“He has and he does,” Replied Patchfoot.

“I can say the same for Tinypaw,” Sparrowpelt said turning his head a little to look at her.

“And I for Rockpaw,” Cherrytail said.

Leafstar jumped down from the Rockpile and landed neatly in front of the three apprentices. “I, Leafstar, leader of Skyclan, call upon my warrior ancestors look down on these three apprentices. They have trained hard to understand your noble code and I commend them warriors in their turn,” She looked down at the three sitting cats, pleased that they were finally warriors. “Rockpaw, Bouncepaw and Tinypaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect this clan even at the cost of your life?”

The three apprentices looked up and chorused without hesitation, “I do.”

“Then by the powers of Starclan I give you your warrior names,” Leafstar paused for a heartbeat scanning the faces of the apprentices.

Cherrytail watched intently. Leafstar didn’t tell them what their new names would be and as she looked beside her she could see Sparrowpelt and Patchfoot had the same interests. All three mentors were shifting their weight from paw to paw hoping their apprentice’s names reflected their personalities.

“Bouncepaw, from this moment you will be known as Bounceflight. Starclan honors your enthusiasm and your strength, and we welcome you as a full member of SkyClan,” Leafstar went over to Bounceflight and rested her muzzle on his head. Bounceflight stepped over and respectfully licked her shoulder before walking with his muzzle and tail raised over to Clovertail and Petalnose.

Cherrytail looked over her brother to see Patchfoot nodding his head pleased.

“Tinypaw, from this moment you will be know as Tinycloud. Starclan honors your wisdom and your courage and welcome you as a full member of SkyClan,” After Leafstar touched her muzzle to Tinycloud’s head, Tinycloud walked over to Leafstar and reached up her muzzle to reach the lower part of her shoulder. Sparrowpelt's whiskers twitched in amusement.

“Rockpaw,” Leafstar started. Cherrytail’s ears perked up to hear what she was saying.

“From this moment you will be known as Rockheart. Starclan honors your bravery and your kindness and we welcome you as a full member of SkyClan,” As soon as Rockheart licked Leafstar’s shoulder and he walked to sit next to his siblings, the rest of the clan called their new names to welcome them into the clan.

“Bounceflight! Tinycloud! Rockheart!” Leafstar leaped back up onto the Rockpile and everyone fell silent.

“I have another duty to perform tonight. Sagekit, Mintkit come,” The two kits walked steadily forward and although they tried hard, Sagekit gave a wriggle of excitement before he sat in front of the Rockpile.

Cherrytail saw Petalnose lean towards Clovertail and mutter something. Clovertail twitched her whiskers and whispered something back. Cherrytail had to bite her tongue from purring in amusement. Mothers, she thought, always worrying about their kits. Do I want to be a mother? Her thought surprised her, she’d never given it much thought.

Then Leafstar started to speak, “Sharpclaw, You are a brave and loyal warrior, you will mentor Sagepaw,” Sagepaw gave a purr and excitedly ran over to Sharpclaw to touch noses with him.

“Mintkit, you shown me that you want to be a medicine cat. I talked with Echosong and she is willing to mentor you. Do you want to walk that path?”

“I do,” Mintkit said, an excited glint in her eyes.

“I’ll take you to the Whispering cave tonight Mintkit. Medicine cats have a special ceremony,” Echosong said.

“One last thing,” Leafstar said, surprising Cherrytail and the rest of the clan who had thought the meeting was over. “Rockheart scented some rouges at the forest border. It’s probably just a few loners passing through but I want every cat to keep watch when passing that part of the territory,” She said jumping off of the Rockpile. The clearing was full of murmuring. Cherrytail said good-bye to her brother and walked over to Rockheart and the new warriors.

“Congratulations Rockheart,” She said with a purr, noticing his pride as she used his new name. “Remember, you can’t talk to anyone until sunrise. You can call Leafstar or Sharpclaw if there’s trouble.” He brushed his tail over her shoulders like he was telling her to stop worrying, and walked off to join his siblings on the Skyrock for their silent vigil. Cherrytail sighed and started to walk back to the warriors cave.

It felt good to be on the cool stone path up the cliffside to her nest. The Warriors’ cave was already full of cats. Clovertail was curled up next to Patchfoot, both of them grooming each other and purring. Cherrytail was happy to see them together. Petalnose was close by, already sleeping in her nest. Sharpclaw was sitting near the entrance staring out into the night. Cherrytail looked around to try and find her brother. He was at the back of the cave, digging. She padded over towards him, wondering what he was doing.

“Hey Cherrytail,” He grunted, scenting her approach.

“What are you doing Sparrowpelt?” She asked, looking at the depression he dug in the cave floor.

“Building nests for the new warriors.” He replied, moving over a bit to begin making a third dip. “Would you mind getting some moss? This may take me a while.”

“Sure,” Cherrytail said heading for the cave entrance. She walked past the sleeping cats and out into the open.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A growl voiced from the cave opening. Cherrytail quickly turned around startled, seeing Sharpclaw slide out onto the path.

“Down to get some moss for the new warriors dens,” She said evenly, glad her voice didn’t waver in fright, “Sparrowpelt is digging them and he asked me to get some moss.”

“Fine,” Sharpclaw said with the hint of a snarl, retreating back into the cave.

He doesn’t have to be such a pain in the tail,Cherrytail thought, turning around and continuing down the trail.

She inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh taste of the cool leaf-fall air. The clouds were thick promising the rainstorm that was looming at sun-up. Cherrytail turned onto the narrow path leading to the Whispering Cave. The river swirled only a tail-length beneath the narrow ledge pressed against the face of the rock. Cherrytail quickly walked across and slipped through the crack between two of the boulders that marked the entrance to the Whispering Cave.

She stood, stunned, her mouth agape. The Whispering Cave had stopped glowing. Her head whirled, was this a bad omen? Why did it come to me? Should I tell Echosong or Leafstar? Suddenly, she felt a pull towards an area near the back of the cave swathed in shadow. She resisted the urge, trying to get back to Leafstar. But the pull persisted getting stronger with every heartbeat until it felt to Cherrytail as if she desperately needed to follow.

Trancelike, Cherrytail headed down the passage the shadows had successfully hidden. Her pace was leisurely although inside she was battling herself, trying to go faster. Her brain was empty of all thought except the need to follow the tug. Finally, the tug released her and she collapsed to the tunnel floor, exhausted from her mental struggle.

A few moments later she conjured up what little strength she had and scrambled up into a sitting position.I’m so far into the tunnel, is it worth going back or should I go further in? She squinted her eyes and looked down the tunnel. A light was glowing, barely perceivable in the looming darkness.

Cherrytail staggered to her feet, her legs shaking. I might just make it there,[I/] she thought exhaustedly, It can’t be more than a few fox-lengths down the tunnel. She trudged down the remainder of the tunnel and emerged into a cave filled with shining moss.

“The Whispering Cave,” Cherrytail said softly, her voice raspy. She stumbled to the wall of the cave and collapsed in one of the soft, glowing moss nests. She touched her nose to the moss and she fell instantly asleep.


Chapter 4
Eagle's POV

“Hurry everyone!” Moss said from the top of the stump the wandering group used to make announcements.

Eagle looked up from the sparrow he was eating in the clearing to look at the tortoiseshell she-cat. Although the cats’ didn’t have a leader, Twig was the one that told them when to move and where to go, but Eagle wasn't surprised when his daughter Moss made the announcement since Twig was old and sick.

“My father,” Moss said when most of the cats had entered the clearing, “died at moon-high last night. As many of you know he had many moons behind him.”

Eagle stood up and walked towards the stump where he could now see Twig’s tan pelt lying beneath it. Many of the other cats who had known him well we’re going over to him to pay their last respects. Eagle only knew Twig from how he lead the wandering group, but he liked the gentle, old cat.

I better tell Ice, Eagle thought, already silently walking in that direction. He passed many cats who wanted to see Twig before he was buried, but many, like himself, didn't know Twig intimately and waited in the shadows as the others mourned.

"Ice," Eagle said as he slid through the brambles that protected the entrance to their den, "Twig," Eagle sat down and sighed, "Twig died last night." Ice looked sad but not surprised about the news.

"He was very old, " she said, "and pretty soon he would have left anyway. He wouldn't have been able to keep up with all the traveling we do in green-leaf." Ice struggled to a sitting position as Eagle came in.

"Do you feel anything yet?" Eagle questioned, gesturing towards Ice's stomach. She reached out a paw and lightly swatted him on the nose.

"Sometimes they kick a bit, but they'll tell me when they're ready. Don't worry you'll be the first one to know if anything happens."

"Does Moss know you're close to kitting? I heard she knows a bit about herbs."

"Of coarse mouse-brain. I imagine everyone knows. Both with you telling everyone you see and with me being this huge!"

" Well," Eagle said, "if I'm out hunting go to her. She'll be able to help anyhow."

"I know," Ice said soothingly to the nervous tom, brushing her muzzle against his, "I'll be fine. Now you need to sleep, it's almost dusk and I expect you'll want to be at Twig's burial at sunrise."

"Are you coming?" Eagle asked, silently hoping she would come even when he knew it would be difficult for her.

"Do you really think I would miss it? If only to console Moss about her father’s death. It must be very hard for her, especially when she's pressured in following his pawsteps and leading the group. Get some sleep."

"I'll wake up before sunrise and get you something to eat before we go," Eagle said, padding over to their nest and curling up next to Ice, licking her comfortingly.

" I... I would like that, " Ice said sleepily, her eyes already half closed, soothed by the strokes of Eagle's tongue.

Eagle curled up around her, still licking her with his tongue, grateful that she and the kits were safe. Her breathing soon became regular and smooth so Eagle stopped licking her and rested his head on the edge of their nest.

she’s so beautiful, I’m lucky to have her,he thought pleased, his eyelids drooping with sleep. His last thought was of Ice, his last feeling was of absolute bliss.




Fern's POV

"Come on Rain!" Fern said, walking towards the wood surrounding the clearing. She loved the feel of the undergrowth in the oak forest.

"Ash," Rain said, looking over towards his nest where he was curled up, his tail twitching slightly, "are you coming too?"

"Maybe later," he purred, "you should go exploring together. I'll see you at sun-high, we caught enough yesterday to feed us today."

"Thanks Ash! Enjoy your nap. Wait up Fern," Rain called.

Fern stopped walking and waited for the other she-cat to catch up. They waked into the undergrowth with their pelts brushing. Rain stopped and scented the air.

"I smell crow...and mouse… and rabbit. Wow, there's a lot of prey here, want to hunt?" Rain asked, already tracking one of the intermingling scents.

"Are you really hungry Rain? We already caught enough yesterday to last us a while." Fern kept walking forward. "Lets go deeper and explore. This is probably where we're going to stay this leaf-bare."

"Fine. But do you remember Fox? He's good with herbs and he mentioned he was running low on supplies... Maybe we can find some before Leaf-bare. Then he can help others if they get sick or hurt."

"That's a great idea Rain," Fern purred, "we can look as we're exploring." She walked through a clump of long grass and into a meadow.

"Look Fern! There's some yarrow over by that maple," Rain said, pointing with her tail.

"Good eyes Rain. Lets go get some." The two she-cats walked through the meadow to the tree line.

"Eww." Rain wrinkled up her nose. "It's that same smell as yesterday."

"Yeah. Do you want to go farther in?" Fern said cautiously, walking up to the tree line.

"Let's get some of the yarrow and follow the scent a ways." Rain walked over the scent line with her ears back. She nipped a few stalks off and put them in a small pile.

"Let's keep going," Rain mumbled after she picked up the yarrow. They kept going into the brush with Fern scenting for more herbs.

"How can I smell anything with this stench?" She said, her tail waving irritably. “Let’s go back, we can look for other herbs along the way." They turned back into the denser forest, fur brushing, all the while scenting for herbs.



Chapter 5
Cherrytail's POV

Cherrytail woke to a paw poking her in the ribs.

"Cherrytail," Sparrowpelt said, "you're on dawn patrol with Petalnose and me." Cherrytail got up and creeped out of the den, careful not to wake any of the other warriors.

"Did you already eat?" Cherrytail asked, padding up to the fresh-kill pile and taking a magpie over to the sunrocks.

"No, I wanted to eat with you." He took a shrew over to where Cherrytail was crouched over her magpie.

"Thanks." Cherrytail was grateful she wouldn’t have to eat alone.

"Didn't yesterday feel like your own warrior ceremony? I'm so proud of Tinycloud! She'll make a great warrior," Sparrowpelt said, his chest puffed out in pride.

"She had a great teacher." Cherrytail shifted closer to her brother, letting their pelts brush, reminding them of when they were kits.

"It's time to go," Petalnose said, already starting up the path to the top of the cliff.

"Let's go," Sparrowpelt sighed, finishing his shrew quickly, "Petalnose won't want to wait long on the Skyrock."

"It's okay," Cherrytail said, taking a few more bites, "I was almost done anyway. Just thank StarClan Sharpclaw isn't on our patrol!" Both cats shared an amused look as they imagined how Sharpclaw would have reacted. They got up and followed Petalnose to the top of the cliffs.

"Let's go to the twolegplace first, then we can check the gorge and end with the forest. With any luck we can hunt on the way back," Petalnose told them. The cats set out for twolegplace, Petalnose in front and Sparrowpelt at the rear.

Twolegplace, Cherrytail thought, I'm glad I left for the cliffs. Now I know why Firestar left too. Being in a clan is amazing, so is training an apprentice.Cherrytail's thoughts strayed to her apprentice, her warrior.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when Petalnose stopped and started to scent the air, checking to see if any cat trespassed on SkyClan territory, while Sparrowpelt renewed the scent markers.

"Let's follow the scentline to the barn. Leafstar told us to check it every few sunrises to make sure the rats don't come back," Petalnose said, already padding in that direction.

They checked the barn and kept going down into the gorge. The cats all got a drink from the river before following the steep trail up the side of the ravine.

"I'm glad we have SkyClan’s abilities," Sparrowpelt commented after jumping straight up onto a boulder 3 tail-lengths high and continuing up the trail and into the woods.

Cherrytail walked up to the border and renewed the scentmarks, her brother a few fox-lengths ahead and Petalnose a few behind. She watched as Sparrowpelt walked through a bramble thicket, continuing along the border. She looked over her shoulder and saw Petalnose a while back.

"Petalnose!" She yowled down the path, "Sparrowpelt is checking the last few fox-lengths of the border. Can I hunt? We still have a while until the rest of the clan wakes up."

"Sure." Petalnose was only a few tail-lengths away now. "Just be back before sun-high."

"Thanks!" Cherrytail said, she liked hunting by herself, but she liked hunting with her brother more. "Can I ask Sparrowpelt to come with me?"

"Fine. Remember, just be back by sun-high."

Cherrytail followed her brother’s scent through the brambles. She crawled through a particularly thick patch of thorns to see Sparrowpelt standing at the scentline with his fur bristling and tail fluffed out. She ran over to him and looked over the border to see two she-cats. One was grey, the other a long-furred creamy tan.

"Where are you two going?" Sparrowpelt growled, unsheathing his claws and flexing them in the soil. The two rogues backed up against the wall of brambles, lowering their ears and tails and whimpering.

"Stop scaring them Sparrowpelt, or well never get any answers out of them." Cherrytail crawled through

"Stop scaring them Sparrowpelt, or well never get any answers out of them,." Cherrytail crawled through the last of the brambles to stand by him. "Well, why are you here?" Cherrytail directed this question at the two cats.

The grey cat raised her muzzle up a mouse-lenth to look at Cherrytail and Sparrowpelt and said, "we were exploring. Our group is camped on the other side of this wood."

"Rain," The other cat said exasperated, "don't tell them everything."

Cherrytail remembered how she felt when Firestar and Sandstorm caught them the same way and her form softened a bit. I can imagine how scary we look to them!Cherrytail thought.

"How many cats are in this group?" Sparrowpelt asked.

"Enough to keep us safe if a badger or some foxes attack," the tan cat said vaguely.

"We should take them back to Leafstar, they may be the ones that came into our territory before. And I don't like the sound of another group of cats on our border."

Cherrytail turned to the two she-cats and walked around them.

"We're taking you to our camp," Sparrowpelt growled, "don't try to escape."

The cats creeped forward and followed Sparrowpelt. Cherrytail slid behind them, scenting the air behind to make sure there weren't more cats hidden in the trees.

Their procession followed the main trail back to camp where they stopped at the river flowing out of the Rockpile. Sparrowpelt led the cats over to the Rockpile where he leaped up onto the ledge running next to the boulders over the river. The two she-cats struggled to climb the boulder up to the trail. Cherrytail padded up to them and pushed the tan one up.

"Thanks," She said, panting at the top.

"Anytime," Cherrytail leaped gracefully up the face of the boulder where the two cats stood with their mouths agape.

"Hurry up!" Sparrowpelt called from up ahead. The cats scampered forward nervously looking over the edge of the ledge at the fast-moving current below them.

Sparrowpelt stopped on the flat rock that sloped down into the water.

"You can drink if you want." he said, spinning around and bounding up the cliff-face.

Sagepaw jumped down from the apprentice cave and looked at the new cats skeptically. Cherrytail looked up to see Sparrowpelt's tail disappear in Leafstar's den before he turned around with her following.

"So," Leafstar said standing in front of the two cats, her tail twitching, "my warriors found you on SkyClan land. Why were you trespassing?"

Again the grey cat was first to answer, "We were exploring."

"Are you kittypets?" Leafstar asked.

Cherrytail knew they were too scrawny to be soft kittypets out for an adventure.

"No, we live in a wandering group. Traveling during green-leaf. We live in a clearing over there now." The grey cat pointed with her tail.

"Rain," the tan cat hissed warningly.

"We didn't know we were crossing any borders," Rain continued "we were just looking for herbs for Fox."

"Well now you know. And tell the rest of your group about it too. We won't let you get away with crossing borders again. My warriors will escort you to the border Rain and... What is your name?"

"Oh," Rain said, "her name is Fern."

"Cherrytail, Clovertail, and Sagepaw, take these two back off our territory. And please," she directed this at Rain and Fern, "don't let this ever happen again."

Leafstar turned around and bounded back up the cliff, knowing her warriors could handle the rogues.

"Are we really going through the forest?" Sagepaw squeaked excitedly, racing forward and leaping the 3 fox-lengths up the side of the Rockpile.

"How do you do that?" Rain asked, amazed. The rocks were almost 10 times the height of the new apprentice.

"There was a clan here before us," Cherrytail began, "they had lived in a forest with four other clans. But twolegs came and built dens all over their territory. The other clans didn't have room for SkyClan, so they turned them out of the forest. They had traveled her and were thriving until a horde of rats came and destroyed them. The cats fled, but some of their descendants still live here today. Firestar, the leader of one of the other clans in the forest, had a dream from StarClan to come and rebuild SkyClan. He found Skywatcher, who told him this was where SkyClan had lived. Firestar found the rest of the cats with SkyClan traits and built this clan. That's why we can all jump high and walk on stone. See?" Cherrytail lifted her paw to show them the grey pad underneath while Rain raised hers up to find a light pink one.

"Ohh," Rain said, and unsheathed her claws to grab at the rock face. Both the loners managed to climb onto the boulders and jump down the other side. They used the same trail they came on through the woods. The SkyClan warriors stopped at the scentline while Fern and Rain continued over the border.

"And don't come back!" Sagepaw squeaked, fluffing up his still kit-soft fur. Clovertail purred in amusement.

“We’ll tell everyone not to come over here," Rain said, starting to turn around. They both looked back one last time over the border at SkyClan territory.

Cherrytail met Fern's deep amber eyes for a heartbeat and her gaze made her fur stand on end. It was like an electric shock passed through her. I know this cat, Cherrytail thought, bewildered, stepping back in shock. But before she could call out, Fern spun around and raced into the forest.






Chapter 6
Fern's POV

"Rain!" Fern hissed as they stopped in a clearing a distance away from the SkyClan border.

"What?" She asked, sitting down and grooming her ruffled fur.

"My mother told me about these 'Clans' when I was a kit. There are more of them in a forest where the sun rises. They are as big as lions and eat other cats! The best thing to do is run, not tell them where we live so they can get us! You just put everyone in danger Rain!"

"Well," Rain started, "they seemed nice enough. They didn't eat us and they definitely weren't as big as lions! I think you're mom was just trying to scare you. The only thing weird about them was their names and how they could jump." Rain resumed licking her chest.

"It's still not a good idea to tell other cats about our group. We may outnumber them, but they looked strong enough to overpower us," Fern said, her tail lashing.

"Let's keep looking for herbs," Rain suggested, and headed for the far side of the clearing, "we just don't go near their territory again. We can warn the others too."

"Fine," Fern growled, following Rain out of the hollow, "but let's go that way." She motioned with her tail a direction opposite SkyClan territory. They followed a faint prey-trail into the forest towards a grove of ancient maples.

"Poppy, and catmint," Rain said, excitement gleaming in her eyes, "I didn't think we could find catmint away from twoleg dens and this late in the season too." The cats walked into the grove and started nipping off as many catmint stalks as they could carry. Fern went over to the poppies and took two flower heads. The rest she shook so their seeds fell to the ground.

"There," she said, when she finished shaking the last poppy, "now Fox can have more next green-leaf before we start traveling." Fern picked up the two poppy heads and a bundle of catmint.

"Let's go back to the clearing. I can't hold anymore," Rain mumbled past the herbs in her mouth, "and this time we won't go near SkyClan." The two she-cats walked into the forest and disappeared into the undergrowth.

___________________________________________________________________
Eagle's POV

"Uhh." Eagle woke up with a growl. It was well before sunrise but he needed to hunt for Ice before Twig's burial. She needed to eat and he probably wouldn't have time to hunt until sunhigh. I should have time for me to hunt for both of us, Eagle thought stretching. He looked back at Ice and purred as her paw twitched, it would be less than a moon before their kits came. He looked back one last time before slipping out from under the bramble bush they used for a nest and padded into the pine forest. He had to remind himself not to run and scare away all the prey, Eagle loved the openness of the pines and how the needles softened his pawsteps so he was effortlessly silent.

Soon, he stopped and scented the air, looking around in the faint moonlight that filtered through the pine needles. There was a crow, almost invisible in the night, pecking at a pinecone. Eagle stalked forward closing the gap between him and his prey. When he was a fox-length away, he pounced and snapped the crows neck before it could make a noise. Night hunting in these pines is almost too easy, Eagle thought as he buried the crow and kept going through the forest.

A few heartbeats later, Eagle started to feel the ground becoming marshy and seen a frog jump into the safety of one of the small puddles of water. He seen another sitting on a rock a tail-length away. Eagle crouched and sprang after it, catching the frog between his paws and the rock. I've never tasted frog, Eagle thought, I wonder if it tastes fishy. Eagle unsheathed his claws and curled them around the frog killing it. He licked it cautiously and realized it wasn't like a fish at all. It was musky and sweet. Eagle picked the frog up and walked back onto firm ground. I could get used to this night-marsh hunting, Eagle padded over to the buried crow, I caught more now than I could if I hunted from sunup to sunhigh. He unburied the crow and started walking back to the clearing, the prey delicious in his jaws.

He emerged in the clearing when the sun was barely poking over the horizon. Even this early, cats were already coming out from their dens, and he saw as Maple coming out from the pine forest with a mouse and vole hanging from his jaws. Eagle turned over to his nest and slipped through the entrance to find Ice already awake and washing herself.

"Thanks for getting up early Eagle," She purred.

"It was great. I enjoy hunting at night in the pines. I think I'll do it more often. Here," He pushed the crow and frog over to her, "I thought we could share the frog, I think you'd like it."

"Maybe," Ice said, scanning over the amphibian skeptically.

"It really does taste good," Eagle said purring, "I'll taste it first and tell you how it is." Eagle leaned down and pulled off a leg. "See," he said, swallowing the morsel, "it tastes sweet, like honey."

Ice crouched and took the other hind leg, chewing it thoughtfully, "It is really good!" She was already reaching over and nibbling the stomach. Eagle purred in amusement and started plucking the crow and tearing into its soft flesh. Ice soon finished eating and Eagle started burying the rest of the carcasses.

Ice crouched clumsily, almost falling over as she crept out of the den. Eagle followed close behind, scanning the clearing now full of cats in a double-line, with Moss at the head and Twig's body, supported by Swift and Brown, following.

"Quickly," Ice said, walking toward the end of the line, "they're heading for the pines." Eagle followed Ice, standing next to her until their part of the line started moving. He gazed over to where the other cats had their nests and wasn't surprised to see some still sleeping or glaring out at them. A few, like Princess and Fuzz, were housecats, and had just joined last moon, and probably had only met Twig a couple of times. But Boulder and his mate Daisy stood aloof, hissing and spitting at cats who came too close to their den.

Never really liked them anyway,Eagle just flicked his tail at them and moved on. They followed Moss into the forest and to whatever site she would want Twig buried.

Chapter 7
Eagle's POV

Moss stopped in a clearing fringed with fir trees with long, soft needles, and full of orange lilies and dandelions. Eagle stopped and stared, he had never seen this glade and he knew the pine forest well. Ice brushed up against him, silently telling him to keep moving. He waved his tail in acknowledgement and kept going though he was still looking around in awe.

They stood in a line, each cat taking a pawful of soil out of the ground and setting it off to the side. A brown-and-white she-cat, Brown, walked down the line, telling elderly or crippled cats to come forward and dig first so they wouldn’t have to lean down when the hole got deep.

“Ice, you may go ahead.” Brown swept her tail forward, telling Ice to go to the front of the line. She walked slowly forward, wobbling a bit on her unsteady legs. Eagle started to go with her, but Brown stopped him, blocking his way with a white-tipped paw.

“She’ll make it on her own,” Brown whispered. “Only elders are allowed to go. I made an exception with Ice. Be glad and don’t ask for more.” She continued down the line, not looking back at Eagle who was standing lopsidedly, his mouth open to argue with her.

Eagle realized he looked silly glaring at Brown and consented himself with watching Ice worriedly. He hoped she would pick a good spot to rest and wait for him and the rest of the cats to finish the grave.

When it was finally Eagle’s turn, he jumped into the hole and dug out a pawful of soil, balancing carefully to make sure none of it spilled. He looked up nervously to see the pit was now three tail-lengths deep. He gathered himself determinedly and leaped up with three of his legs, the fourth holding the soil. He landed on a bare piece of brown soil and sighed, walking awkwardly over to the growing pile of dirt that the cats before him dug out.

Eagle walked across the green clearing, scanning the edge until he found Ice’s distinctive white pelt amid the cats. She was laying on a bit of moss underneath a fragrant fir tree.

He lay down next to her, relieved that she was safe. He lay his head on his paws, facing the gray rock Moss had used to make her announcements.Only eight more cats to go, Eagle thought, watching Moss head toward the stone. She sat at its rocky base, watching the line of cats leap into the hole and back out, balancing a pawful of soil like Eagle had.

As soon as the last cat deposited their load onto the now huge pile, Moss leaped onto the rock and started her speech, “Thank you all for coming. My father had many moons behind him, but it was whitecough that had killed him. As most of you know, he was planning to retire next season. We are proud of what he has done and how he had lead this group. He had come in seeking shelter and ended up making many friends until he was unknowingly chosen to be Moon’s successor. He had lead us well and we have survived as a group, living peacefully and traveling far. He was gentle and wise, but fearless in battle. We will all remember him for moons to come. I am very proud to call him my father.” She jumped down off the rock and gestured for Maple to take her place.

Each cat then stood on the boulder and and said a few words about Twig. When Swift stepped off the rock, Eagle knew it was his turn.

“Come on Ice,” Eagle whispered, helping her up and letting her lean her bulk onto his body. They walked over to the stone where Ice sat at the base and Eagle bounded up onto the rock, he would say the lines for both of them.

“Twig was a kind cat who took us in when we needed help. We will teach our kits his ways.” Eagle wasn’t even paying attention as he landed beside Ice, who had stood there while he delivered his speech.

“You did fine,” she purred, pushing her white pelt into him and leading him back to the tree-line.

“I just feel this is the worst time to lose him, with the kits right around the corner.”

“There are many cats just as capable of taking his place. Moss is the obvious choice, she is just as kind and powerful as her father. Everything will be just fine.”

“I know, I just want everything perfect for you and the kits.”

“You are perfect enough for me Eagle, and that’s all that matters.” They had gotten back to their spot under the sweeping fir and Ice sat down on the moss.

“Attention everyone,” Moss yowled after all the cats had made their speeches, “Twig has been buried and is now resting peacefully under his new pelt of earth. Before he died, he announced his successor to me and two other witnesses.Brown, Swift, come forward.”

The two cats Moss had specified came forward and sat at the gravelly base of the rock. Every cat was whispering excitedly about who they thought was going to take Twig’s place. Most said Moss, but some thought other cats would be better equipped for the position, and a few cats hoped it would be themselves. Eagle didn’t care, as long as the cat would keep the group peaceful. Eagle looked over at Ice and saw discomfort in her eyes and her face scrunched up in pain.

“Ice!” he whispered, coming up behind her and licking her ears worriedly, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing the kits are just moving around a lot. It’s been happening a lot lately,” she grunted, wincing in pain.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It’s not important Eagle. Just pay attention to the ceremony.” Eagle flicked his tail in annoyance but did as she said and sat down abruptly, realizing he missed out on most of the speech.

“Twig’s successor will be-“ Moss was cut off by a loud yowl of pain. Eagle looked up to see all the cats staring at him and Moss racing across the clearing, coming straight at him. but I didn’t yowl, he thought looking around franticly, confused at the whole situation. Then it dawned on him, the cats weren’t looking at him, they were looking behind him. He spun around to find Ice lying on the ground panting, her stomach racked in spasms. He immediately ran to her his ears pricked in alarm.

“The kits are coming Eagle,” she moaned, “now.”

“It’s fine Ice, you’re doing fine.” Moss had seen Ice before he had and was already at her side, pressing her paws around Ice’s stomach and licking her comfortingly.

“Do you think you can make it to that bramble?” Moss said pointing to a bush a few tail-lengths away. Ice nodded and struggled to get her feet underneath her. Moss and Eagle came up to her flanks and supported her as she wobbled through the sparse undergrowth before sliding under the bramble.

“Eagle, get some moss,” Moss commanded shooing him out, “now.”

Eagle’s mind whirled with concerns and worries as he rushed over to the first tree he saw and started pulling moss off, repeatedly slicing his claws down the bark. He ran over to the hastily made pile and saw it was full of twigs and splinters of bark.

“Foxdung,” he hissed, lashing his tail and walking over to another tree forcing himself to relax. He carefully reached up and scraped the green moss off the maple tree, collecting enough in just three claw rakes. He bundled it up and pushed it underneath his chin, pressing bits of moss into his brown fur.

He walked back to the bramble hoping he wasn’t too late. Eagle crawled into the den to see Ice curled up around three kits all squirming toward Ice to feed.

“They’re beautiful,” he purred through the moss in his jaws, “where do you want me to put this Moss?”

Moss’s eyes were bright as she twitched her whiskers in amusement, “The moss was to keep nosey toms away from their kitting mates mousebrain. You’re nervous pacing would have only made it harder for Ice.”

“Oh.” Eagle spit out the moss and licked the bits stuck in his pelt out in embarrassment.

“Well I’d better finish the speech. Ice’ll be fine,” Moss meowed, exiting the makeshift kitting den.

“Go on Eagle,” Ice purred when she saw the tom was torn between her and the ceremony, “Moss is right, I’ll be fine.” Ice started to groom her kits.

Eagle glanced back at their kits, one a white-and brown she-cat with green eyes, another a fluffy gray tom with amber eyes, and the third a pure white she-cat with light blue eyes. My kits. I’m a father,he thought proudly, squirming out of the den to sit at the edge of the clearing happily.

“Sorry for the interruption,” Moss started, “Twig’s successor will be,” she scanned the clearing before her gaze rested on a gray tom on the other side of the clearing.

“Ash.”

Chapter 8
Fern's POV

“Ash,” Moss called out from her post on the boulder. Fern stood dumbfounded. Her mother’s friend, leader of the whole wandering group? The cat she always imagined as her father.

“Go on Ash,” Rain said. She nudged the grey tom to his paws and nosed him towards Moss until he recovered enough to walk himself. Why Ash?Fern thought, he never really talked to Twig much, although they knew each other well and were friends but…Fern was snapped out her thoughts when Moss started to speak again.

“Do you accept this position?”

“I do,” Ash replied.

“Then take it and lead us well. With someone as respected as Twig passing this responsibility on, a lot will be expected of you, Ash. But there were reasons my father chose you and I trust you to follow in his pawsteps,” Moss said, relinquishing any hold she once had on leading the group.

The crowd was as bewildered as Fern was. They had all believed Twig would pass on the lead to his daughter. No one had ever suspected Ash, not even Ash himself.

“I will,” he said, leaping up onto the rock to stand beside Moss. He looked around, staring straight at Rain and Fern. Fern smiled at him encouragingly. He scanned back over the crowd, “Now is a time of grief and sorrow for we have lost a great leader, but I promise I will be the best leader I can.” He jumped back down and silently walked through the mass of cats. He continued into the forest with his chin and tail high, abruptly ending the burial.

All the other cats but Ice, Eagle and Moss followed, chattering like a flock of sparrows. Fern rushed forward. She pushed through the cats, trying to catch up to Ash. She finally noticed his light gray pelt in front and dashed over to him before she lost sight of him again. “Congratulations,” she purred happily.

“Shhh,” another cat hissed. The cat dislodged themselves from the crowd and pulled her away from Ash roughly. “It is custom that the new leader walk alone back to the clearing after the old one has died. It symbolizes how they will have to walk their new path alone,” the cat informed her. She finally saw him properly and was able to distinguish the orange-and-white tom as Maple.

“Oh. Sorry,” she apologized sheepishly. She now noticed that while the cats were talking and walking in groups, they stayed away from Ash and kept at least a fox-length behind.

“Don’t be,” the older tom purred. “You’re still young. Just wait ‘til he’s back in his new den, then you can talk to him. Though I would expect he will have lots of well-wishers in line.”

“Thanks, Maple. You saved me from looking like a kit in front of all those cats.”

“It’s fine. Now go find some of your friends,” Maple said, his eyes glowing, waving his tail and dismissing her. She darted off to find Rain. She saw her in the back of the group, talking to a brown tabby tom with amber eyes. She came over and inspected the tom. He looked only about a moon younger than her and Rain. He had long legs and was thin. He looked like a runner.

The tom squirmed under her gaze. “I’ll see you later Rain,” he said hastily and ran into the bushes.

“What’s wrong with him?” Fern asked curiously.

“Oh, we were just talking,” Rain said vaguely. “Anyway, would you like to hunt? Ash will be bombarded with cats and I don’t want to go back yet.”

“Sure,” Fern said warily. She stared at Rain, trying to figure out what she was hiding, but Rain just turned around and padded off into the woods.

They pushed their way deeper into the woods through the green ferns and less-green bushes. It was almost leaf-fall. They kept going until they reached a copse of beech trees with their nuts scattered on the ground like pebbles. Fern opened her mouth and immediately scented mouse. She flicked her ears in frustration, there were so many scents it was hard to distinguish one from the other. She snapped down into the hunter’s crouch and stalked off into the trees. She noted Rain was going the other way, back into the forest.

Finally she saw a flicker of movement under one of the trees. She crept forward silently, her pawsteps soft on the fallen leaves, following the mouse until it stopped and picked up a nut. Fern licked her lips and lowered her body down. She tensed her muscles underneath her and sprang. An easy catch, she thought smugly in the heartbeat she was in the air. She landed directly on the mouse with her unsheathed claws.

At the exact moment when her paws touched the ground, she heard a yowl coming from her left side, “Watch out!” She whipped her head around in surprise just in time to see a ginger blur coming straight at her.

“Ahh!” she exclaimed. She scrabbled her claws in the dirt, trying to get away. The cat hit her hard and pushed her into the ground. Her breath was squeezed out of her, leaving her gasping for air while being flattened on her stomach with a cat on top of her.

“Sorry!” the cat called. She felt the weight roll off of her. She got up onto her paws and spun around at the cat that had pounced on her. It was a tom, gingery red with green eyes. He was licking his fur embarrassedly while sitting on the forest floor. Fern immediately concluded that this tom had not meant to hurt her. The other side of her brain starting thinking about how cute he looked.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, realizing she was staring and making him uncomfortable. She began looking at him more discreetly, glancing sidelong at him, at noticed she could see every one of his ribs. And with leaf-fall coming… she thought. “You can have this one if you want, I can easily catch another.” Fern pushed the plump mouse over to him.

“Thanks,” he said, pulling it closer and devouring it in a few mouthfuls.

“You know, I belong to a group of wandering cats. We stick together so that even if one doesn’t catch anything, there is usually someone there who will share. You wouldn’t have to go hungry again,” Fern offered. She could tell he was thinking it over.

“Is it really that obvious that I’m not well-fed?”

“Yes,” Fern answered truthfully.

“I like the idea of cats helping each other. I’ll come and check it out, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I didn’t expect you to. What’s your name?”

“Ginger,” he replied.

“I’m Fern. I’ll take you there as soon as I find Rain. She’s the cat I usually hunt with.” Fern started retracing her steps back to the place she and Rain had separated. She found the trail Rain took and turned down it. She smelt the blood of a rabbit before they found Rain dragging it through the brambles.

“Ooh,” Rain squealed. She dropped the large hare and came over to greet them, “Who’s that?”

“I’m Ginger. Fern offered to show you to your wandering group,” he introduced himself. Fern saw him eyeing the hare, even if he was trying not to show it.

“Why don’t we eat it now? It’ll just be a hassle to get it all the way back to the clearing. We can always hunt for more,” Fern suggested. Ginger looked at her gratefully. She knew a mouse couldn’t have even touched the hunger that Ginger showed.

“Sure,” Rain said in relief. “I don’t think I could drag that lump another mouse-length!” The trio walked over to the rabbit and crouched down beside it. Rain got to eat first because she caught it. She only took a few mouthfuls before passing it over to Fern. “I already had a starling,” she explained.

Fern ate little as well, saving the majority for Ginger, who devoured the rest.

“Thanks,” he said after the meal. “You don’t often see cats that are willing to share.”

“We better get going. I want to talk to Ash. Do you think the rest of the cats have left by now?” Rain asked. She licked a paw and drew it over her muzzle, cleaning off any remaining rabbit scraps.

“Probably not. But we’d better get in line anyway. Ash will probably want to see Ginger before he is allowed into the clearing.” Ginger looked confused, but followed the she-cats as they stood up and began to walk through the forest. They soon increased their pace to a sprint, running through the many colored leaves of late green-leaf.


Chapter 9 {FINALLY HERE! }
Cherrytail's POV

Cherrytail trotted to the next border marker and reset it. Sharpclaw had let her lead the border patrol with Tinycloud, Clovertail and Patchpelt. They were spread out over the border, each responsible for a section of the green forest border. Cherrytail trotted down the border with her mouth open. There had been rouges trespassing on SkyClan territory for a while now, even after they sent Rain and Fern back with a warning.

She, and multiple other cats, had pleaded with Leafstar to do something about it, but the dappled leader wouldn’t send any cat out of the territory until they have seen a trespasser. She had increased patrols on that border, yet no one has come back with any more than reports of odd scents and signs of stolen prey.

Cherrytail gazed around at the bushes and trees. Her eyes wandered to the other side of the border, there was even more ferns there, concealing the ground. She slowly turned her head back to the trail. As she was moving, she spotted movement in the bushes on the other side of the border. Cherrytail froze and pricked her ears. She slowly opened her mouth a crack, letting all the vibrant scents flow in. The ferns wiggled slightly again. Cherrytail noticed the waving ferns were moving in a straight line, like there was a cat walking beneath them brushing against the stalks! she thought.

She crouched down and slowly crept forward. She silently slipped under a bush close to where she predicted the cat would appear onto the trail.Please, StarClan. Don’t let the patrol come this way, she prayed. She didn’t want to be caught; this may be a chance to follow the strange cats! She lay her tail down on the ground and put her paws under her in case she had to leap out of cover quickly. The bushes nearest the trail shuddered and a brown mottled head poked out of the bushes.

It looked straight at her and Cherrytail held her breath, staring into its glowing amber eyes. Then it looked away again and started to emerge from the ferns. A soon as his-she noticed it was a tom- tail came out of the ferns, a she-cat emerged and followed. They slunk down the trail with practiced ease.

Cherrytail let out her breath and stalked out of the bush. She whipped around and ran back to the patrol. Clovertail was on the section closest to her. “I-I’ve seen the rogues,” she panted. “We finally have proof. Go tell Leafstar I went to follow them.” Clovertail pricked her ears and nodded, darting off into the forest. Cherrytail ran down the trail to collect Tinycloud. She wanted her cleverness and sneaking abilities.

“Tinycloud!” she yowled when she spotted the she-cat’s tan-and-gray pelt. Tinycloud looked up in surprise and bounded over toward her. She was small, the tips of her ears barely reaching Cherrytail’s shoulder. The newly made warrior looked up, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“Rogues are here again. Saw them in the territory. Clovertail went to tell Leafstar. Going to follow. Come help me get Patchfoot,” Cherrytail said brokenly, sucking in breaths before every sentence. She went to dash off again, but Tinycloud held her back.

“I’ll get him, you stay here and catch your breath,” she said. Her small frame slithered through the undergrowth much more gracefully than Cherrytail had. She calmed down a bit, enough to actually feel the dizziness and fatigue. She plopped down and rested while she waited for Tinycloud to fetch Patchfoot.

She hadn’t noticed how far she ran until she looked back at the broken branches that showed her path. It zigzagged through the forest, showing no direction at all, until it fizzled out into the distance.

Soon enough, Tinycloud reappeared with Patchfoot close on her tail. “It’s this way,” Cherrytail said evenly, her breathing finally steady. She cut a new trail going straight this time. Her paws itched in excitement and her tail bobbed as she walked silently. They stopped when they got back to the trail and scented for the rogues.

Patchpelt slid out of cover cautiously and slunk down the trail with his mouth agape. The whole forest seemed to suddenly go quiet, like it was holding its breath in foreboding. Cherrytail hesitantly pushed herself out of the bushes to follow. The colorful leaves covering the ground crackled softly under their paws, loud in harsh comparison to the noiseless forest. Tinycloud hissed from behind them and they immediately dropped down. They didn’t ask what she had heard, nor did they have to. A giggle sounded in front of them followed by a shaking of a tree branch above.

Cherrytail edged over into the shadows, hoping her brown dappled coat would help hide her. She saw Patchfoot slide back as to put distance between them. She knew his white coat wouldn't help hide him. Tinycloud pushed her way under a thick holly bush, only her eyes visible, their amber depths burning with distaste for the rogues. "Go!" she hissed under her breath, pointing her tail forward. Cherrytail's eyes widened as she realized Tinycloud was talking to her.

She hesitantly slipped out of cover and stalked closer to where the rogues were. The leaves shifted under her paws but made little noise as she crept closer and closer, every pawstep leading her closer to detection. A giggle erupted in front of her and she tensed up but held her ground. She peered out of the thin layer of leaves separating them and watched the two rogues as the moved. A small brown tom was racing around the treetops in pursuit of a squirrel. The gray she-cat watched from underneath, following them on the ground.

Cherrytail shifted her paws and watched as the tom pounced and gripped the squirrel in his mouth. It let out a high-pitched wail as he took it down to the ground, leaving it alive in his jaws. Cherrytail flattened her ears to her skull against the noise, her claws sliding out in anger. Have they any respect for prey! she thought furiously. She longed to leap out of cover and shred them for their disrespect, but she closed her eyes and stood still. Moving would make the end of their mission. The squeal stopped abruptly, leaving a ringing in her ears. She opened her green eyes to see the tom standing over the fresh-kill, his claws coated with blood. Cherrytail shivered; she could see in his eyes that he had enjoyed every moment of the torture.

"You're such a good hunter!" the gray she-cat cooed as she ran over. Cherrytail was watching when she saw movement come from her side. Her claws unsheathed and her fur bristled as she turned slowly.

"It's only me mousebrain," Tinycloud whispered as she scooted over beside Cherrytail to watch the two cats eat their kill. Cherrytail inwardly scolded herself for not checking for scents. It could have been anything coming up beside her: a rogue, a fox, a dog. For the first time after the screeching of the squirrel, a bird started to sing. Soon more joined it and the forest grew alive with sounds again. Cherrytail forced herself to settle. "Patchfoot said he would follow on behind until the rogues are far enough ahead. He said he didn't want his pelt giving him away."

Cherrytail murmured her agreement and settled down to wait for the rogues to finish their prey and bury the remains. Finally, she thought when they stood up and padded out of the territory again. She waited until they were a couple tree-lengths ahead before standing and stretching her cramped muscles. She slid out from their hiding place with Tinycloud right behind and opened her mouth to catch the rogues’ fresh scent. She noticed she could detect both scents distinctly, not like a Clan where the scent was somewhat the same with only minor variations. So these cats aren’t as unified as we thought, she observed as she followed the scent.

A flicker in the distance showed the two cats’ trail; Cherrytail sped her pace as to shorten the distance between them. The scent would most likely show them all the way to camp, but there was always the chance they would lose it in a piece of boggy ground or some rock and eyesight would be necessary to track them. The brown tom stayed in the lead as they wove skillfully through the SkyClan territory, their paws staying right on the small trail until they turned out at the place Cherrytail had saw them enter.

They turned out of the territory underneath the canopy of ferns and an odd plant with a single, umbrella-like leaf. A small tunnel ran through the plants, the only illumination being the sunlight that filtered through the large leaves. The result was stunning; the whole tunnel being cool and enclosed, yet bright enough to be comfortably. Cherrytail’s mouth was open in awe of the sight as she padded underneath the arching ferns. Tinycloud looked similarly enthralled as she turned her head, her eyes bright.

They admired the tunnel until it opened up, the plants thickened with bracken and vines to make thick walls but with the roof removed. Two large stones sat like guards on either side of the tunnel entrance. From here, the trail was fairly straight; Cherrytail could see a fair distance until another wall of bracken covered it. Either the path took a sharp turn, or it was a dead end. She saw the gray cat’s hindquarters turn left at the end, proving the former theory true.

“Want to go now or wait for Patchfoot?” Cherrytail mewed. There wasn’t any fear of the rogues hearing or seeing them now.

Tinycloud just shrugged in reply. “You’re older and the leader of this patrol.” But you’re probably smarter, Cherrytail added silently. She knew that what the small she-cat lacked in size, she made up in intelligence.

“He can’t be that far behind and the trail is mostly flat. Unless he’s mooning over the tunnel he should be here soon,” Cherrytail said teasingly, peeking into the ferns. She immediately regretted her words, seeing the black-and-white tom a few tail-lengths behind.

Patchfoot took a swipe at her head with his tail as he emerged, purring playfully. “I heard that! I’m not going to moon over a fern tunnel like a lovestruck she-cat!” Cherrytail ducked with an amused twitch of her whiskers.

She remembered when she had seen Patchfoot for the first time, it was before Firestar had come when she and Sparrowpelt were both kittypets. They had stumbled upon him when they were exploring the forest; he was chasing a rabbit across the forest. He seemed so scary then! She thought. Now she knew he was always the first one to make fun of any situation; always ready for a good laugh. She purred before turning and starting back on the path again. “Let’s go.”

In a single line, they followed the trail all the way to the end where it seemed to curve around a thicker knot of bushes before again, running straight. “It must have been to thick to get through,” Patchfoot commented as they padded around. They went slowly, wary of ambush behind the corners until they uneventfully made it all the way around. Cherrytail padded out before backpedaling swiftly behind the brambles, straight into the other two cats.
“What are you doing?” Tinycloud hissed quietly, blinking her eye furiously. “You just stuck your tail in my eye!”

“Sorry,” Cherrytail whispered. “The rest of the path is straight as a whisker leading all the way to a clearing. The rogues were still on the trail and I feared they would see me if they looked back. I might have been a little hasty,” she admitted, seeing their disgruntled faces at her abrupt stop. She sat down, preparing to wait until they had left.

“How much farther do they have until they reach the clearing?” Tinycloud asked.

Cherrytail cocked her head, trying to judge the distance from her short view of the cats. “A goodly amount. We would be waiting a while. Why?” She knew enough that Tinycloud was probably calculating some sort of plan and curiosity was gnawing at her to figure out what it was.

A glint appeared in one of Tinycloud’s eyes— the other one still watery from Cherrytail’s tail— and pointed a paw into the undergrowth. “Then why don’t we act like SkyClan cats and follow them through the trees?”

Cherrytail leaped up and bounded to the nearest tree: a study oak. None of them had needed approval or council on the plan as they unsheathed their claws, hopped up the bark, and started across the web of branches covering the forest. It was easy to follow the trail and Cherrytail felt her thoughts wander as she ran.

Her gaze swept over the forest, taking in all the details that she would have missed if she were on the ground. She saw a small brook gurgling almost parallel to them and followed it with her eyes for a while before it meandered off back into the trees. She saw a large forest of pines to the other side; their long, sweeping branches with pointy needles were a rarity in SkyClan territory. She took care of studying one so she could describe it clearly to Rockheart when she arrived back home. She felt a wave of pride when she relived his warrior ceremony in her head; he was the warrior she had taught.

She looked down, happy with her memories, and saw that they had almost drawn even with the rogues far below. She studied them as well, taking the time to memorize their appearances. She knew there were enough branches between them to render her invisible and Patchfoot’s fur was more camouflaged outlined against the sky, so she was able to wander closer to them than she would have dared in the forest. Familiarity dawned on her when she was able to see the she-cat up close.

Rain, she thought, putting a name to the cat. Irritation flooded her; how could she trespass again? She had been warned off once and Cherrytail didn’t think she would be one to come back so soon, but then she saw the tom. He was a dark brown with lighter brown stripes. His legs and tail were long and he carried his head high. Cherrytail could tell he was young, but even from a distance she could see he was handsome. So that’s why, she concluded. She must be falling for him.

She waved her tail and leaped upward a couple branches before stopping to wait for Tinycloud and Patchfoot. From here, they could see the clearing where the rogues apparently camped. “We need to find a spot to watch them,” Tinycloud huffed, a bit out of breath from the run. Cherrytail found she was breathing heavily as well as she looked around the clearing for a suitable spot. A tree would be nice; she knew from past experience that cats rarely took notice of what was going on above their heads.

“There.” Patchfoot pointed to a large fir tree that was more inside the clearing than out. In it, they would have an almost complete view of the camp while still having an escape route through the trees. Cherrytail nodded, not seeing a better location in any of the other trees. They were mainly walnut, not providing too much cover and even if they had, Patchfoot’s fir still had the advantage of location.

Tinycloud bared her teeth. “Perfect.” Cherrytail could see she was already centering all of her escape plans around the tree as they gracefully leaped toward it. Now they would be able to do something about these rogues.


Chapter 10
Fern's POV


Fern fidgeted in the line formed in front of Ash's new den. She could feel the eyes of the rest of the group on Ginger and knew he, too, was uncomfortable under their gaze. She wished she could cut right to the front, skipping her time waiting in line with all the other cats wishing to share a few words with their new leader. She could; no cat would stop her nor question her actions for they all knew she was like the daughter Ash never had. I could probably do anything and get away with it now, she thought grimly. But that wouldn't make it right.

She looked over and saw Ginger staring at her, his ears pricked as if he was waiting for a response. "What?" Fern mewed, confused. She shook her head, causing her long fur to fluff up along the top. She hadn't heard him speak.

Ginger twitched his whiskers in amusement and gave a short purr. "You look cute like that." He poked a paw into Fern's tuft of fur. She hastily pawed it down as her ears flooded with heat, embarrassed by the comment. "I said: Is it normally like this? The line?"

Fern want to shake her head, but caught herself in time before she spoke. "No, our old leader-- Twig-- had died this moonhigh. We had just came back from his burial when we found- no, you found us."

Ginger had the grace to look saddened by the news. "He must have been a good leader."

"The best," Fern agreed. She noticed the line had been moving forward as they spoke and they were now just outside the den. She recognized the midnight-black pelt of Night in front of her. The only other cat-- a white-and gray she-cat-- was unknown to her. The nameless she-cat padded into the den as Fox walked out, his head bent while muttering incomprehensible words. Fern watched him with wide eyes as he walked past.

Ginger bent his head next to Fern's ear. "Is he normally like that?" He sounded worried.

Fern couldn't help but shake her head, luckily, the fur stayed flat. "No. He's one of the only ones skilled in medicine. He's the one me and Rain and Ash go to if we don't feel well or are injured. He's actually quite wise." She wondered what had sent him into such a state. It couldn't have been Ash's words, could it?

"Fern!" a voice called to her from inside the den. "About time you came to see me." Fern walked into the den, Ginger in tow. She saw Ash's puzzled expression as the tom walked in behind her and quickly started to explain his presence.

"Me and Rain found him while hunting after the ceremonies and he showed interest in the group. I invited him to join, but he says he wants to look around first," Fern stated.

Ash nodded, looking at Ginger critically. "You know he doesn't need my permission to come in; every cat is welcome here," Ash finally stated.

Fern opened her mouth to respond, but Ginger was already speaking. "I was told. But I wanted to meet the leader of this fine group nevertheless."

Ash twitched his whiskers. "You flatter me. I think it would be more useful to you if Fern showed you around and you got to meet some cats, wouldn't you agree? You look like a fine hunter and I think many cats here would be grateful to have you as an ally."

Fern smiled, knowing this was Ash's way of saying he wanted Ginger in and that he approved of him. She tipped her tail gratefully. "Congratulations!" she mewed before exiting the den. She knew Ash was busy and wanted to let him on with his business. She gestured for Ginger to follow as she walked out. The line of cats waiting to see Ash was dwindling; only a pawful of cats remaining.

"So what are you going to show me first?" Ginger inquired, coming to stand by her. She just bared her teeth in a smile and turned towards the edge of the clearing, excited to be able to show a new cat around.

No. No! My paws gripped the branch I was perched on tightly as I watched the scene below wide-eyed. My ears were pinned back, and my teeth grated from the caterwauls that roared beneath us. The clamor was unbearable, so primitive it was. Why? Why must we be here for this?!



Writhing masses of cats littered the small clearing, blood and fur spattered carelessly around. Earth-rending screams tore through the battle noises as more blood seeped into the ground. I watched, stunned, unable to avert my eyes from the horrendous scene below.



And then they came closer.



A small black tom struggled with a much larger and older she-cat, trying in vain to push her fangs away from his throat. She hissed and sprung, catching both her paws in the black cat’s chest and hurtling him tail-lengths until he hit the ground with a thud near the very base of the pine I sat in.



He coughed, his paws waving as he tried to find his feet, but with two massive leaps, the she-cat was on top of him. Time seemed to stop as her face reached down toward his neck.



Then she was gone, the small tom breathing heavily, his eyes wide at his narrow escape. A brown blur rushed in towards the she-cat, who had been pushed away. My vision grew fuzzy and I almost fell off the branch before I came back to.



“Storm!” I yowled at the top of my lungs, feeling my voice break as a coppery film covered the back of my throat. I ignored the choking blood, only stopping for a millisecond to hack some of it out, enough to turn my head and speak. “What can we do?” I asked the black cat beside me desperately, “That’s our brother!”



The black she-cat looked at me blankly, still shocked out of her mind. I gasped and looked back onto the fight, knowing that it was my death sentence to go down and help. Storm and I, we were housecats for Spirit’s sake! Twilight was the forest cat! I focused back onto the battle. The she-cat was atop Storm, and my brother was watching her wide-eyed. She whispered something, something lost to me through the raucous yowls.



There was no other cat to stop her as she brought her teeth to Storm’s scruff. I yowled then, not realizing I had done so until the battle noises stopped around me, all the cats looking past the battle and into our tree. My eyes were glued to Storm’s still body, and the blood seeping from his neck. Greif left me shell-shocked. I couldn’t move.



“Run!” Twilight screeched, leaping out of the tree, snapping my eyes away. I hesitated a heartbeat as my sister fled through the bushes, but the other cats were starting to snarl, and this time not at each other. With one last glance at my brother’s body, I jumped and followed Twilight’s path, ripping through the forest with the angry sound of many cats on my trail. Storm… I’m sorry.









"Twilight! You said it was safe! You said they wouldn't notice! You said, you said --" my voice broke off, both in anger and sorrow. I never knew those emotions, so different, so much the opposite, could ever be together in one cat. Now I knew, oh now I knew it.

Twilight padded slowly in front of me, her tail carving a furrow in the leaves below. I struggled forward myself, every fiber of my being screaming to turn back. I wanted to go home, I wanted to --

I stopped. Twilight continued on, and I had half a mind to leave her go, never look to her again. "Twi." She paused, her ears hardly flicking towards my voice. She didn't turn. 

"Where are you going to go now?" I whispered, "You can't -- not now, you can't go back."

She turned. Her green eyes flared and I jumped back, my fur prickling. "I can't do anything. The Clans were my life." She spat and long, ivory claws cut through her dark fur. "To think how naive I was, thinking they led a noble life. Nothing but cowards and murderers. All of them. My entire life. Lies."

"I-- You could come home."

"Home? To what? That was never my home, and you know well of it. I am not a house... pet." I flinched. This wasn't my sister, not really, I knew. Yet...

I stepped forward. Twilight eyed me warily, but allowed me to approach. "Then I will help you."

I watched as the red faded from her vision, imagined the forest growing green and sounds filter through her ears once more. "Help me with what?"

"Fixing what had always been broken.

"The Clans."





It took Twilight and I most of the day to pad around the lake. It was slow work weaving our way around the Clan borders, while Twilight would point out all the local landmarks. I was an eager student, wishing to know everything I could, anything that could help me push back at the beings that struck down my brother.



I learned that the Clans fighting had been ThunderClan and WindClan, and that we were now passing over just east of WindClan's moor. Twilight said she lived near RiverClan, but far out of their borders where little trees populated the plains and the marshy ground stood solid under our paws. 



"You live here?" 



Twilight growled, whipping around to shove her nose before my face. I held still and after a heartbeat she crumbled away, paws shaking, eyes wide. "Sorry," I whispered before my sister had a chance to apologize herself. I slid silently under the briar, surprised when the interior was much larger than it had appeared, and stuffed full of mosses and lush grass that it was nearly as soft as my den back home.



Home. . . the place Storm would never set paw in again. The place I would never set paw in again. I shivered despite the warm, almost hot, den and squirmed over to where Twilight lay, burying my nose into her warm, warm fur, as if her dark fur could black out the images inside my head.



It didn't.



Storm still died.





I peeled open my eyes, blinking in the single shaft of light that filtered through the dense threads of briar to cast a shimmering golden ray down the side of my pelt. For a heartbeat I was startled, not quite remembering where I was.



And then everything came crashing down over my ears.



One of my paws had cuffed Twilight on the side when I was flailing to stand, and now she groaned, muttering words I couldn't catch under her breath. I bit my lip, standing awkwardly in the center of the cozy den, shifting from paw to paw to warm myself against the pre-dawn chill. 



"Hey, Twili, up yet in there?" Twilight jumped with a yelp, eyes wide. I turned from her to the opening of the bush, where a pair of icy blue eyes and a wide smile blocked the green forest from sight. 



Twilight growled, stepping forward to meet the grey tom as he slipped inside the den. "Slate! You could have--" she broke off her tirade, shooting a glare towards me before focusing her rage back at the tom -- Slate. "Called first."



The tom sat with a shrug and a knowing twitch of his whiskers, nonchalantly licking the morning dew from a paw. "Didn't think you'd be busy." He nodded my direction, his eyes never leaving Twilight's. "Ahhh. Sorry for the misunderstanding," he continued after a moment, giving a self-degrading wave of his tail. "Forgive me for being rude, Luna, I'm Slate."



I stared blankly at him. 



How in the stars did he know my name?



"It's complicated," Twilight said with a sigh, then turned and glared back at Slate. "Great, now you've frightened her. I told you to make a good first impression! Not scare her out of her fur!"



The tom shrugged with a wink in my direction, and I couldn't help but to flinch back. "Sorry, it's hard to ignore her; she's a natural." A natural...?



I couldn't hold out any longer. "What in the Stars is going on?"



"Twilight didn't tell you?"



"Of course I didn't--!"



"Not that. Who I was, at least? Not even a mention?"



Twilight looked away, the first time I had seen her embarrassed. I could almost feel the heat radiating from her pelt from where I stood, staring at the couple -- "Oh." Slate grinned, and Twilight still looked embarrassed and a bit guilty.



"I didn't need to know," I muttered. 

Prologue


“Evacuation transport will be available for those near coastal areas -- BEEP -- Please stay calm. Do not leave your homes. Evacuation squads will arrive momentarily to assign you an Evacar -- BEEP -- A recent weather forecast shows that the heat will continue, however, we have been informed that the circumstances may change rapidly -- BEEP -- This is the Prime Minister. I assure you that this freak storm is nothing more than a solitary occurrence. Please stay calm until you are able to be evacuated -- BEEP -- End of the World? Is it really coming or -- BEEP -- BEEP -- Evac teams are waiting on shorelines. Please exit all water craft and board Evac ships -- BEEP -- Do not venture near water. I repeat, stay away from bodies of water -- BEEP -- This is the Prime Minister. I assure you that -- BEEP -- BEEP -- BEEP

Chapter 1
Iris’s POV

It was unusually hot. Not humid, just hot. The kind of heat that felt like a million needles were digging into you, but you didn't sweat. The kind of heat that rarely happened, especially on a fall day way up north.

Iris dragged herself along, trying to find somewhere to rest away from the heat. At last she found a maple tree with a large splotch of shade underneath. She crawled under it, but it didn't help. The heat wasn't beating down from the sun; it was in the air. She let out a heavy sigh. Her throat was dry and scratchy. When she inhaled again the heat seemed to burn her tongue. "What is with this heat?" she exclaimed, aloud.

"I know what it is." A voice answered her rhetorical question, then materializing out of the shadows of the tree. He was a tall, handsome tom with deep brown fur. The kind that shimmered and shone even with the raging heat. "It's the beginning of the end. My mother told me this would happen," he said. He had a very snobby tone to his voice. Iris shook her head at him in disgust. She hated cats like him. Such know-it-alls.

"I highly doubt that," she replied bitterly.

"No, it's true. Just look at the sky!" he meowed, and pointed upwards with his tail. Iris, though she really wanted to be away from him, looked up. The sky was a deep red and the sun was black, like someone had plopped a drop of ink on shimmering red velvet. It was quite unusual, but Iris didn't want to agree with this tom. She wanted to prove him wrong. Although, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew he was right.

"So what? It's just the sunrise," she replied, trying to sound as snobby as he. He rolled his eyes.

"In the middle of the day?" At this she sighed and sat down again.

"Fine. You win. Maybe it is the end." She scarcely remembered her own mother telling her stories about 'The End'. She had those same thoughts before this tom had pointed it out. The weather had been like this for a few days now, confirming her earlier theory.

"What's your name?" the tom asked suddenly, jerking her out of her thoughts.

"Iris," she replied. "What's yours?"

"I'm Riddle." A funny name, Iris thought, but didn't say out loud. But at the same time, she liked it. She thought it sounded… mysterious.

"Do you have a den around here?"

"No. I was going to make a new one today," Iris answered, a little hesitantly. She didn’t go into details why, and luckily Riddle didn’t push. Either he hadn’t heard the edge in her voice or didn’t want -- or care -- to acknowledge it.

"If you want, you can stay with me until yours is finished." Iris thought about this for a moment. So he was a bit irritating. But also... cute. And a couple of days couldn't hurt, she hated sleeping in an unfinished den anyways. She nodded.

"Great!" he cheered, "follow me." He dashed off across the large plain, weaving around the long, dried and yellow grasses that grew in clumps across the ground. Iris followed, smiling slightly. She was actually glad she had finally found someone else. She didn't want to admit it, but she hadn't seen anyone in days. Weeks even. She had no idea what was happening to everyone. But maybe she and Riddle would become friends after all.

Maybe they could make it through the end.

Chapter 2
Cherryheart’s POV

"Cherryheart! Help us over here!" Twigfoot called. He was standing beside a fallen tree, hot flames at the other end and slowly crawling in his direction. Underneath the end that wasn't burning was Palefeather, Cherryheart's clanmate and sister. Cherryheart rushed over, her eyes wide.

"What happened? Did the tree fall? Is she okay?" Cherryheart pestered him with questions.

"I don't know!" Twigfoot shouted back. "Help me lift this tree!"

As Cherryheart helped Twigfoot lift the tree, everything seemed to move in slow motion. All around them, the forest was a bright orange mass of licking fire. It had started with a lightning bolt and quickly consumed the dried and dead foliage, eating it like a starving beast. The Clan had scattered, many had been hurt and she knew some were dead.

At last, the two got the tree off of Palefeather’s body, but the results weren't good. Her ribs were smashed in and all four of her legs were twisted where they shouldn't have been. Half of her face had been shredded off and was now coated in blood, as was the rest of her body. She was most definitely dead.

"Palefeather!" Cherryheart cried, and buried her face in her fur; or at least, what was left of it. Twig foot stuck his paw under Cherryheart's chin and pulled her head up again.

"I'm sorry," was all he said. His eyes held genuine sadness, and he bent to nuzzle Cherryheart on her shoulder, comforting her. Cherryheart was totally silent. This couldn't be happening! Then something even more unthinkable happened.

As soon as Twigfoot pulled away, he stepped onto a patch of the fire and it tore up his leg. He screamed in agony, seeming to silence the rest of the burning forest.

Cherryheart was frozen in place as she watched the fire engulf him, the once-brown tom now a pillar of gold and red haze. He fell down with a sickening thud. Almost without realizing it, Cherryheart began to run. She was determined to get out of that forest, to save herself now that everything was gone.

Eventually the trees broke leaving the tortoiseshell in a grassy clearing, yet she kept running. She didn't stop until the horrifying red forest was out of sight. She collapsed, the last moment feeling tears down her fur before she crashed into sleep.



Chapter 3
Marble’s POV


Marble bit into the squirrel he had caught, grateful for the food. He could hardly remember the last time he'd eaten, and he knew it had not been this good.

Once he was finished, he stood up again, licking his lips. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. It was mostly open ground, but here and there stood a few tall, thin birch trees. Not another living soul could be seen from where he stood. In fact, he hadn't seen any other cats since before the storm.

For a couple of days, it had rained nonstop. Floods filled in low areas. And on the last day, there was thunder. And lightning. A lot of it. It had been terrifying. Now, Marble would see a body here and there, but never anyone living. What happened to everyone?

"Marble!" He suddenly heard someone scream his name. The voice sounded familiar... Too familiar.

"Marble! It's me!" the voice called again. Marble turned to see who it was, and suddenly, everything made sense. A small grey she-cat. Athena. His only daughter. His daughter that shouldn't exist. His daughter that he told he never wanted to see again. He just stared at her, his expression holding mixture of shock, anger, and guilt.

"I thought I told you to go away," he said, his voice a low whisper.

"Well, I wasn't trying to find you. I just happened to see you standing there, and I couldn't pass you by." Marble felt himself begin to shudder with anger now.

"Go. Away," he repeated, closing his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at her. He didn’t deserve to be able to look at her.

"But I can't, father! Remember what mother said? She wanted us to be together even when she wasn't with us. You can't leave me again!" Athena meowed in distress. Marble knew that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to convince her to go. So he just nodded.

He was scared. He had been since she was born. He didn't need a daughter, he didn't want a daughter! He didn't deserve a daughter. No murderer did.



Chapter 4
Graffiti’s POV


Slowly, Graffiti opened her eyes. Where am I? she thought. Then she remembered, the water-storm. It had hit the city and destroyed everything. Graffiti had been rammed against a wall from the water's force. She assumed she had blacked out, for as hard as she tried she couldn’t remember anything after the sharp pain in her left side. She had thought she'd died at the time, but, being here, she knew now she had not.

Graffiti tried to stand, but collapsed again. She tried to look around but everything was blurry and had a double passing through it. Things suddenly started to go black again and her head thumped back down on the pavement.

***

When Graffiti opened her eyes again, she told herself that she wouldn’t black out again. Even though her head had a steady beat of pain that felt like it was blocking out all other sound and vision. She tried to stand again and miraculously didn't fall over. Her legs wobbled, but she wouldn't let them crumble down.

Everything around her still looked rather fuzzy and she had trouble keeping focus, yet she knew to give in was to die, and she couldn't let that happen. If she was supposed to die, she would have already. She had stayed alive for a reason. She knew it.

The black she-cat started walking forward. She didn't know where she was going, but she wanted to be able to walk, so she did. She tripped a couple of times but got up again and continued. After a while her sight started becoming clearer and her paws were less prone to tripping, but her head still hurt more than anything. When she could finally see clearly, she took a good look around.

Twoleg buildings were crushed and broken. The pavement was broken and crumbled. Shinybeasts were decimated and thrown around anywhere they could fit. What had once been a perfect, neat, twoleg city was now a mass of broken pieces of 'things' and piles of junk.

Graffiti couldn't see a single twoleg, nor any other cats. At least, no living ones. There were bodies -- and body parts -- littered in the rubble. It made Graffiti’s stomach twist. Had anyone else survived, or was it just her?

She decided she wanted to get out of the city, so she kept going. She had picked up a steady pace now, but her head continued to throb and her entire body was aching; she still hadn't gotten a good look at the damage on herself. She almost didn’t think she could find the courage to press on if she had.

No matter how long she walked, it felt like the city was eternal. Even when she passed one pile of ruins, there were more up ahead. She didn't recognize anything.

It was sundown before the buildings started to thin out and Graffiti felt grass under her feet. Growing up in the city, she had barely ever felt grass. She remembered enjoying it, however, and found the soft bristles on her feet soothing after trodding over so many stones. Graffiti was exhausted now, but she didn't know if it was okay to sleep yet. She decided to first check herself over, at any of her injuries.

Obviously, her head had a giant lump on top. Some of her fur was missing over it. She also had a long gash on her shoulder, but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore. Had it been bleeding out when she was unconscious? She sure hoped not, but it seemed the only reasonable answer, for it was pretty deep, and pretty painful. Other than that, there was nothing serious. Just some small scrapes and bruises.

Graffiti decided that she was far too tired to stay up any longer. The sun was almost all the way down, and she had spent her entire day walking. Maybe she did have a concussion and would die the moment her eyes flicked shut, but she had to sleep.

So she did.



Chapter 5
Gretzky’s POV


Gretzky watched silently as his housefolk spoke to each other in hushed voices. Every now and then they would glance over at him, their eyes full of sadness. At one point, the she-twoleg covered her face in her hands and turned away from the tom-twoleg. Growing tired of watching them, Gretzky padded over to the ledge near the square of hard, clear stuff that was on the wall, and jumped up.

Outside, the sky was pure red and the sun was a black dot in the middle. It was so strange. It had been like that for a couple of weeks now, and ever since the first day Gretzky could sense that his housefolk were terrified of whatever it meant. They hadn't even let him outside since the first day it had been like that. What were they scared of?

Suddenly, something else appeared on the horizon. Gretzky couldn't tell what it was, but it was coming closer. It looked like... Water? No, it couldn't be. Wait, it was. Water was coming toward the building faster than he thought was possible. The she-twoleg saw it too, and when she did she screamed and bolted over right away, scooping Gretzky into her arms.

She just stood there, holding him, as the water came closer and closer. Why wasn't she doing anything? Gretzky glanced over to the tom-twoleg, but he was just staring in shock at the coming wave.

Then, all at once, the water hit.

Gretzky and his housefolk were barreled over, sucked under the tide, and carried somewhere. He wasn't sure where, it was so hard to tell when he was underneath the water. His she-twoleg was pulled away from him, and he suddenly felt more alone and scared than ever. He was pulled along, crashing into twoleg things along the way. He could feel himself being bruised and battered, but the waves pulled and tugged at his fur every which way. Sometimes he would break the surface and take a gulp of air, but he was soon sucked under again.

Gretzky felt himself being pulled out of the water by his scruff.

He felt himself being dragged away from the racing torrent and plopped onto grass. Fresh soothing grass. He opened his mouth and gulped for air, spitting up a bunch of water that had found its way inside him. When he was breathing normally again, he decided to open his eyes.

Standing in front of him was a dark brown tom. He looked much older than Gretzky.

"Where is your mother, kit?" the tom asked in a rough tone.

"I don't know," Gretzky rasped, his throat still stinging from the water. He winced. "I live with twolegs."

The tom seemed to growl disapprovingly. "Oh, of course I put all that hard work into catching a housecat. Unbelievable." He then grumbled under his breath, something Gretzky couldn’t catch through the water in his ears. He couldn't believe this cat. He was mad at himself for rescuing a housecat? He should have been happy he'd saved Gretzky's life at all!

Gretzky suddenly realized how cold it was being outside, and one cue began shivering. He now understood why his housefolk hadn't let him outdoors. It was freezing cold, and he was still only seven moons old. Plus right now he was soaking wet.

"You're shivering," the tom stated. "Here, I'll take you back to my den with me, to warm you up. The weather has been odd lately." Gretzky nodded, and followed him as he made off in the opposite direction.



Chapter 6
Iris's POV

Iris poked her head out of the den casually, trying to see if Riddle had returned yet. She had ended up staying with him for the past couple of weeks, they worked well together and if it really was 'the end' then it was better to stick with others than to be all on your own. They had both decided that a few days after they first met.

Not seeing any sign of him nearby, Iris poked her head back inside the den. When she first came here it had Riddle's scent all over it, but now it was a mixture of both of theirs. Riddle still said it was his den, but Iris knew that now it was hers too. She laughed to herself at the thought. He could be so stubborn at times. Even when he knew he'd lost an argument chatter on. At first Iris had found it annoying but she was used to it now, and could laugh at his arrogant nature. And she didn't want to admit it, but she liked him; more than just a friend. She didn't know how he felt about her though, so she never brought it up. She just kept telling herself that she was lucky to see him everyday, and that was good enough; though somewhere in her heart she knew it wasn't.

Then Iris heard the sound of footsteps outside the den, and when she looked out it was Riddle coming back; with another cat.

It was a tom; and his pelt was dark gray with ginger splotches. He looked quite young, about six or seven moons. Where had he come from?

"Um, Riddle?" Iris asked. "Who... Where did you find this kit?" But before Riddle could answer, he was interrupted by the cat with him.

"I'm not a kit!!" he shouted. Riddle rolled his eyes.

"I saved him," He began. "He was caught in one of the water-storm-rivers. I pulled him out," he finished, puffing out his chest.

"Um, great, but, what are we gonna do with him?" Iris asked again. She really hoped the cat at least knew how to hunt, then he could be of some use if he stayed with them. Which, Iris honestly didn't want to happen. She liked it being just her, and Riddle. That was it. Nobody else.

"Well, I guess he could stay with us for a little while. The more the merrier," Riddle said, smiling. Iris growled inwardly.

"The only problem," Riddle began, "Is we'll have to teach him how to hunt. He says he's a housecat - er, was a housecat."

"I know how to hunt already!!" the younger cat growled, hackles raised. Whatever you say... Iris thought, annoyed.

"What's your name, anyway?" she asked him.

"Gretzky," he replied flatly.

"Okay, well, I guess you can make your nest inside..." Iris sighed.

"Nest? What is that?" Gretzky mewed. Iris and Riddle exchanged knowing glances. They could both agree that this tom knew nothing about outdoor life. So, for the rest of the day, they taught him the basics. Making a nest, hunting, even a bit of fighting. By the end of the day they were all exhausted, and collapsed into their nests. Yet, no matter how tired Iris was, she couldn't fall asleep. She had too many thoughts racing through her head.

Why did he have to come along? Why can't it just be us, like it used to? Why do we have to waste our time teaching this mousebrain everything? But the one question she couldn't answer, repeated itself again and again.

Why didn't I tell Riddle how I felt when I had the chance?



Chapter 7
Cherryheart’s POV

Silence. That's all Cherryheart could hear. There was no one, anywhere. She'd been travelling for a couple days now, trying to find civilization away from the forest, but to no avail.

She felt like she'd been dropped into a world with no life.

At the moment, she was on a plain, covered in hills and bushes. There were trees knocked over all over the place, the bark worn off, and the leaves gone. The leaves missing should have been expected in leaf-fall, obviously, but Cherryheart still felt unsure.

A sudden gust of wind hit her and she shivered head to toe, each day was getting colder and colder. Strange because no more than a week or so ago it had been blistering hot. A lot of things were strange at the moment.

Wind hit her again, but this time it was stronger and she fell right over. She knew she should have gotten up, but she couldn't. Her teeth were chattering and her whole body was sore from traveling. She hadn't eaten in a few days and she was starving. She wanted to just go back in time, warn her Clan that there'd be a fire, and leave then. Then she'd be with them still, with Twigfoot and Palefeather still, too. She still couldn't believe she had witnessed them both die, in such horrifying ways. It made Cherryheart's stomach hurt to think about.

She was pulled out of her daydream as she scented another cat. The wind must have carried their scent over! she thought. In an instant she was on her feet, hunger and pain forgotten, she was so excited.

Cherryheart followed the scent. It got stronger the more she went, so she knew she was on the right path. Finally, she came to a bundle of black fur on the ground. She prodded it to make sure it was still alive, and, it was! Then, it woke up.

"W-Who are you?" It asked. Cherryheart could now tell it was a she-cat.

"My name is Cherryheart," Cherryheart said excitedly. She was so so happy she'd found another living soul. "Who are you?"

The other cat pulled herself to her feet, and then stumbled, then regained her balance again. She was holding her front paw off of the ground, and Cherryheart could tell that was because of a wound on her shoulder.

"My name is Graffiti," the she-cat said.

"Oh, that's a cool name. Where are you from? I'm from a Clan, called MapleClan," Cherryheart said, almost too quickly for Graffiti to even understand.

"It doesn't matter where I'm from," Graffiti said. "All that matters is I'm here now, and so are you." Cherryheart nodded. She liked the way Graffiti spoke, it had something regal and elegant about it. Then an idea popped into her head.

"Hey, I have an idea! Why don't we stay together? Both of us were on our own, and it's kind of a miracle we found each other, so if we stayed together we could make a den and go hunting and stuff and because there are two of us it would be even better and faster!" Cherryheart said, running out of breath at the end. She made a mental note to herself to not talk too fast anymore. After hearing her idea, Graffiti nodded slowly, though she didn't look very happy.

"Well, okay. But don't be surprised if you wake up one morning and I'm gone," Graffiti said. Cherryheart didn't really hear the end part.

"Yay!!! We're going to be best friends forever and ever..." she trailed off. And so they made a den. It wasn't the best, but it was okay. Graffiti made sure to sleep as far away from Cherryheart as possible, for she found her quite irritating, (a lot of cats did), and she would prefer to stay on her own. When Cherryheart had fallen asleep, Graffiti made up her mind that once her head and shoulder were healed she would leave.


Chapter 8
Marble’s POV

Marble entered the small crack in the cliffside that led to his den. He had just gotten back from hunting and was heavily laden with prey. He padded down a side tunnel they used for a fresh-kill pile and deposited his catch before turning around and continuing down the tunnel to his den. He squeezed into the cavern to find Athena napping in her nest, purring happily.

Marble stomped over to her, “Athena! You were supposed to be hunting!”

“Wha.” She jumped up out her nest with unsheathed claws looking around surprised.

Marble hissed at her, “you know what.”

“I knew you could catch enough for both of us,” Athena whined, already recovered from the sudden awakening, “so why should I go out in the heat?”

“Because there is less prey every day and tomorrow we might not catch anything. We need to stock up while we can. Now, why don’t you dig the prey hole since you’re so well rested.”

“Fine, Father.”

“Good,” Marble grunted before walking over to his nest on the opposite side of the cave about 10 fox-lengths away.

Marble had chosen this cave because it had a hole in the top that was small enough that rain or cold didn’t come in, but large enough to let sun- or moon-light into the cave for most of the day. It was deep enough to be comfortingly cool in the summer, and was mysteriously warm in the winter. He also liked that it was large, large enough to comfortably fit scores of cats, and to keep him away from his daughter. There was even a pool of water down a side tunnel that was always full, even in a drought.

He had explored all of those tunnels, some led to small comfortable caves, others to caves that rivaled the size and quality of the main cavern. There were hundreds of these caves, and Marble had explored them all. He knew every mouse-length of his underground fortress.

He plopped down is his nest, his gray fur blending in with the stone and old bracken so only his hard amber eyes were visible. He looked up to see Athena’s lighter pelt disappear through the entrance tunnel.

At least she’s doing something, Marble thought, but it’s been almost a moon since she moved in and I’ve only seen her hunt a pawful of times. I’m going to make her catch her own prey for a while, that will teach her to stop slacking off all the time.

It occurred to him that most cats wouldn’t mind feeding and shelter their kits, but I’m not like that. If she’s to share a den, she’s to help out or at least take care of herself. “She may be my daughter,” Marble muttered quietly, “but if she doesn’t start helping out, I will not show her a whisker of pity. She will be out of here before she could say ‘Mouse’.

The last thing Marble heard was Athena’s claws scraping the earth as she dug their prey-hole in the night, many fox-lengths above his head, before he finally fell into a dark, troubled sleep.


Marble padded into the thin crevice that marked his cave, resisting the urge to bat a small feather that had made its way in front of his nose. He snorted a breath, trying to waft it away, but only succeeded in making his nose twitchy with an oncoming sneeze. He growled. The path to the prey heap scraped his shoulders as he forced his bulk through, and he quickly dropped off the few scrawny bits of prey he had managed to scavenge up, turning back into the wider tunnels before claustrophobia could really settle in.

"Athena!"

"Wha." The grey she-cat stumbled to her paws, tripping on scraps of moss as she fought a losing battle to free herself from their grasp.

Marble turned his lips back, his tail lashing in frustration. "You know what."

"I knew you would get enough for the both of us," Athena whined, already recovering from her abrupt awakening, "so why should I have to go out into the heat too?"

Punishment leapt to Marble’s tongue, quick as a viper. But his bit the threat of rejecting her a meal down as another possibility surfaced. He grunted with satisfaction, moving to his nest and sighing into the cool fronds. "Then you can dig the new prey-hole. We're going to need to stock up if this heat continues, and you seem to have rested up plenty for the job."

"Fine, Father," she grumbled as she passed, paws sending the grit around the tunnel mouth skittering.

Marble grunted into his tail, already pressed into his nose. "Good." He hoped the exhausting, time-consuming task would put Athena off from shirking her work when it came to the next time he required her aid. This wasn't the first time he noticed her evading chores, but lost meals had seemingly no effect on her attitude.



Chapter 9
Graffiti’s POV

At first, Graffiti tolerated Cherryheart but now she was starting to like the erratic she-cat. She was a great hunting partner and an exceptional hunter due to her prior life in the Clans.

Graffiti lowered her sleek black body and began creeping forward through the tall grass. She saw every browned stalk and made sure she didn’t touch them and make them crackle, alerting her quarry of her presence.

She crouched on the edge of a clearing, seeing a large brown rabbit nibbling on some dandelion leaves, but instead of stalking it, she waited at he edge and looked behind it, scanning the green-and-brown grass. She saw a flicker of movement that turned into the form of Cherryheart, mirroring her posture. Graffiti met her green eyes and closed hers for a heartbeat before opening them again. It was their signal, I’m ready.

Cherryheart blinked in acknowledgement and lept out of cover hissing and yowling. The rabbit leaped up, it’s eyes glazed in terror, and ran directly opposite of Cherryheart, right into Graffiti’s claws. She grabbed it in her mouth and shook it once violently, snapping it’s neck.

“Yuck,” Graffiti exclaimed, spitting out wads of the rabbit’s thick tawny fur that had caught in her mouth.

“Great catch!” Cherryheart purred bouncing up and down in her excitement.

“Well, you are the best at leaping out and scaring things,” Graffiti joked, cuffing Cherryheart’s ear playfully.

Cherryheart leaped at her in mock indignation, knocking the smaller cat over, “and you think I look scary! At least I don’t send kits running to their mothers thinking they had seen a fox!”

The two-she cats tussled on the ground, calling each other names, until they finally fell apart, panting and purring on the dusty ground.

Cherryheart shot up to her paws, her ears pricked, “there’s another cat here.”

Graffiti got up too and started scanning the grass, looking for movement.

“Hey!” a voice called from behind them. Graffiti spun around in time to see the grass waving franticly, disturbed by a running cat. The cat raced into the clearing and stopped to stand in front of Graffiti and Cherryheart. The stranger was another she-cat. She was a brown tortoiseshell and her fur seemed to move with the grasses making her almost invisible. Graffiti stared at her shifting pelt, trying to see her better, until she was so dizzy she had to look away.

“Hi, my name’s Leaf. I haven’t seen another cat in moons.” Now Graffiti could tell this cat was about her age and was muscular for her size. Leaf was small and lithe, not unlike herself.

“I’m Cherryheart and this is Graffiti. My home was consumed by a wildfire and Graffiti was hit in the head when twolegplace crumbled, but she managed to make it out here. I found her knocked out on a hill and so we decided to live together-“

“You mean you decided,” Graffiti muttered just loud enough for the others to hear. Leaf twitched her whiskers in amusement as Cherryheart chattered on, not even hearing Graffiti’s comment.

“-and our den is close to a creek that has millions of tasty frogs and fish, and the brambles enclosing the hollow make it almost invisible. Do you want to see?” Cherryheart didn’t even wait for Leaf to respond before turning around and heading towards their den, still talking, leaving Graffiti to pick up their rabbit before following behind Leaf.

Leaf fell back a little to stand just in front of Graffiti, the trail too narrow to stand beside her, “Is she always like this?”

“All the time. You sort of get used to it.”

Leaf purred and trotted closer to Cherryheart who was, predictably, still speaking.

They continued along the trail with the grass arching over their heads that made a natural tunnel. Graffiti looked around, taking in the scene. She loved the feel of being enclosed in green, the way the sunlight came in at a slant, dimly lighting the tunnel without heating it, well heating it like outside. It has been getting hotter every day and now me and Cherryheart can only go out when the sun is low in the sky, Graffiti thought.

They emerged in a hollow enclosed in brambles and long grasses. There were other tunnels like the one they had used scattered all around the edge of the clearing. Two nests were located on one side and a fresh-kill pile on the other.

Cheryheart pointed with her tail to the roof of their den, which was covered in thorns and crab-apple leaves, “we made that. At first the den was open to the sky, but we decided early on that it would be too hot to have the sun pouring in all the time, so we took a section of the clearing and made it into a large den. We even had to weave that whole side with grasses,” she pointed to the end opposite them which was covered in browned grasses and twigs, “I’ll show you outside.” Cherryheart ran across their den and out another hole in the den wall.

“Do you like it?” Cherryheart questioned before Leaf was even outside. Graffiti quickly dropped the rabbit on the fresh-kill pile and ran to the exit. She walked outside and stood there amazed at the sight before her even though she had seen it many times before. The creek flowed past their den, gurgling and sparkling in all its serine glory, and there was a lone crab-apple tree with low, scraggly branches bare of leaves, the only reminder left of the severe storms and flooding. “It used to be much worse, the creek had flooded the whole hollow and left a bunch of twoleg things lying around. It took two sun-rises to clean everything up,” Cherryheart said, her excitement only slightly dampened by the heat.

Graffiti’s black pelt made it almost unbearable to be in the sun after sun-high, so she ducked back into the cooler shade of her den. “Do you have a place to stay? It has been really hot around this time and you don’t want to be caught outside,” Graffiti said politely as Leaf came in panting.

“No. I had lived near the Clans and when their territories were destroyed, so was mine. I was trying to find a den when I found you two.”

“Good! Now we’ll have three cats to hunt! This will be so exciting! I’ll go get some soft grasses for her nest!” Cherryheart squealed, jumping up and down.

“Wait Cherryheart, Leaf didn’t agree to anything yet,”

“Of course I’ll stay Graffiti. I haven’t found anywhere I’d rather be.”

“Well then, we should get nest materials now before it gets any hotter,” Graffiti said, forcing herself outside even though she knew it would be agonizing to spend any time in the sun. Leaf and Cherryheart followed and they quickly found enough grasses and moss to put together a cozy nest.

“Let’s get inside,” Leaf called before picking up her pile of nest materials.

“Yes, and quickly,” Graffiti said, walking quickly to the entrance, her pelt burning her skin.

They got inside and dropped their loads in a pile next to Cherryheart’s nest.

“I’ll be back in a few. I’m going swimming,” Graffiti panted, she knew she shouldn’t have been in the sun that long. Graffiti ran across the clearing to the creek and leaped into the deep end with a splash. The relief was instant, the frigid water soaking into her fur. She stayed there for a while with only her head poking out of the water, purring with relief.

We should make a tunnel connecting the den to the creek, and make another roof on a part of it. That way, we wouldn’t have to go through the sun to get a drink or cool off, she thought.

She waded over to the edge and pulled herself out of the water, the soaking pelt dripping onto the ground. She noticed the water pooling at her feet and realized that the ground was so dry, it couldn’t absorb the water.

She looked around in shock realizing other little differences in the landscape: crackly brown grass that had been green yesterday, the creek lower than normal, the cracked ground. She looked up to find there were no birds, no clouds. The sun looked exactly like it had at sunrise, all red and rosy, but it was almost straight up in the sky.

She sat down abruptly taking it all in. The rumors in twolegplace were right, she thought, amazed that this was happening to her. She looked at their den sadly.

It’s starting. The beginning of the end.

Chapter 10
Gretzky’s POV

Gretzky woke to a paw prodding him in the side. He rolled over onto his side and stretched tiredly. He had trained all day yesterday and would be training hard today too. He sat back up and felt a pick in his haunches, stupid thorns, he thought opening his eyes and reaching around to grip the offending thorn and pull it out of his skin. He carried it out of the den and spit it into the bushes where another cat wouldn’t step on it.

“G’morning,” he yawned to the other two cats he shared his den with, Riddle and Iris. They were sharing a rabbit Iris had caught yesterday. He looked at the fresh-kill pile and his stomach growled, there was only a mouse and a shrew, both scrawny and tough looking. He took them both to his corner of the den, where he nibbled on the tiny bit of flesh before the bone.

“Hurry up, we have to hunt before sun-up,” Iris growled, silently padding out of the cave. Gretzky followed a few fox-lengths behind. Iris was always mad at him but he never figured out what he had done wrong. Riddle came up behind him and motioned over in the bushes. Gretzky looked back at him confused, until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

How did he even know that was there? Gretzky thought amazed. Then he realized Riddle- and even Iris up ahead- always scented the air every couple of heartbeats. He inhaled and smelled the deep, feathery scent of the magpie that Riddle had pointed at.

Gretzky nodded to show he had seen it and crept forward through the shrubs. He poked his head out the other side to see the magpie pecking at a pinecone at the base of an ancient pine, blackened with soot.

He crept forward, balancing his weight evenly like he was taught yesterday. The black-and-white bird kept at the pinecone, squawking softly when it couldn’t get the seeds out. Gretzky bunched up his muscles, preparing for the final leap that would earn him dinner.

I’m going to get this, Gretzky thought determinately lashing his tail, NO! His tail hit a dry fern that crackled softly before he pulled it level again. The magpie looked at the spot Gretzky was hiding and made a short trill before returning to the pinecone.

Gretzky released his breath and gathered himself again, making a spectacular leap that put him straight on top of the magpie. He gripped it in his claws and bit its neck, killing it. He brought it back to Riddle who was waiting on the other side of the shrubs.

“Great first catch Gretzky!” Riddle praised him.

“Should I bury it?” Gretzky asked, already scanning the undergrowth for more prey.

“If you think you could catch more.”

“I’ll catch more than you and Iris combined,” Gretzky boasted, challenging the older two cats. He knew he couldn’t, but it felt good to be able to catch anything at all. He walked over to an old birch tree at the side of the trail and kicked up some of the musty leaf-litter piled at its base. He carefully dragged the bird over to the depression and buried it.

“I’ll hunt over near the pond, and you two can hunt anywhere else,” Iris said snobbily, racing down the trail to the pond.

“Well,” Riddle stated when Iris was out of sight, “why don’t we try the stream? I could teach you how to catch fish.”

“Okay!” Gretzky said excitedly, he had never tasted fish before.

“Why don’t you dig up your magpie? We have to go back the way we came anyways.”

Gretzky didn’t reply, he just ran to the bird and unburied it quickly, spraying Riddle with the debris. The tom shook off his pelt and purred as Gretzky pulled the bird out, struggling under the weight. After he had it firmly in his jaws, Gretzky started down the trail, dragging the bird’s wings in the dirt.

Now Iris doesn’t have any reason to hate me, Gretzky thought smugly,I proved I can catch my own prey. By the time they made it back to their den, Gretzky could barely walk. He dropped the bird onto the fresh-kill pile and collapsed into his nest.

“I’m gonna take a nap,” he mumbled to Riddle, all his enthusiasm for fishing dissolved in his exhaustion.

“That’s fine. I’ll go out and get some herbs. I’ll wake you at sun-high for your first herb lesson,” Riddle purred, walking out of the den, his mottled pelt blending into the early morning shadows so he was invisible even when Gretzky knew he was still in his sight.

Gretzky lay his head down and instantly fell asleep, even the sticks and thorns in his badly constructed nest were painless and dull. The last thing he thought of was Iris and how angry she would be when she found out he fell asleep, but in his tiredness, even that grim thought didn’t keep him awake.


“No, this is yarrow, that one’s goldenrod,” Iris said, exasperated. For however Gretzky tried, the names of herbs would not stick in his head.

“Then that one has to be marigold.” Gretzky pointed to a bright orange flower.

“Yes, finally,” Iris said impatiently, “now what does it do?”

“Ummm…cures…infections?” Gretzky guessed. The only herb he knew was catmint and that was only because his twolegs had kept it in their garden.

“Yes,” Riddle purred.

“You still have a long way to go kit, so don’t get too self-absorbed,” Iris said, “now what’s this one?” she carefully dragged over a pair of bright red berries cradled in a leaf.

Gretzky shuddered, “Deathberries.” He knew that one as well, every cat knew to stay away from those berries, “even one dab of the juices could kill a cat.”

“That’s right,” Riddle whispered. The tom suddenly looked withdrawn, closing his eyes and turning his head. He flinched and looked around glumly.

“Let’s take a break,” Iris said abruptly, sweeping the herbs off to the side and carefully dragging the deathberries on their leaf to a hole underneath a rock before tipping them into it and burying them.

“You can do whatever you want Gretzky, just don’t get into trouble,” she said dismissively before going over to comfort Riddle, laying her tail over his back and muttering into his ear.

Gretzky sighed. Iris always ignored him when Riddle was around. Iris obviously liked Riddle, but Gretzky didn’t know why she didn’t like him, or at least be happy even when he was there.

He decided to take another nap, he wasn’t allowed outside alone and it was way too hot to even consider it. He plopped into his nest straight onto another thorn. He pulled it out hissing. Maybe I’ll clean my nest out first, he thought and started to paw through his nest, wincing every time he was pricked.

This is going to be a long day, he thought when Iris called him back over to identify more herbs.

“So,” she said when he came, “let’s see what you remember. What’s this?”



Chapter 11
Iris’s POV
Iris stalked out of the den, irritation showing in her every move. The mousebrained kit could only remember a pawful of herbs at the end of their session and the ones he remembered were next to useless in the wild. She once again cursed Riddle for taking him in. They had been fine, alone, without an incompetent mouth to feed. She lashed her tail in frustration and increased her pace so she was jogging through the forest. She didn't know where she was going, not yet, but her paws seemed to keep her on course. Unlike her heart, she knew her paws wouldn't lead her astray.

She ran forward, her thoughts muddled in exertion, rage fueling her paws. She wished she would have told Riddle how she felt. She wished Gretzky had never come into her life. She wished it wasn't the end for she realized this had been the event that had lead Gretzky to them. The End, she thought, the hard words forcing her to slow. The End.

She came back to herself finding her paws soaked with moisture. She lifted one and it dripped water, sending a series of clinks to her ears as they hit the surface of the pond. She sighed, the rage draining out of her, leaving her utterly exhausted after the run. She stayed rooted in the pond, letting the cool water soothe her worn paws.

She had the urge to drop down, to let the water consume her and cool her whole body up to her neck, but a sharp snap in the bushes made her muscles tense back up. Had someone followed her? Madly she wished it were Riddle. Then they could talk; she could confess. Everything would be all right.

She relaxed again, even gave a little bounce as a weight lifted from her chest. They could still be together. But the wild side of her was wary, checking the scent over and over although Iris was too overjoyed for it to register. She darted over to the bushes, whacking the leaves playfully with a wet paw. "Come on out, Riddle!"

Two deep green eyes flicked open from inside the depths of the bush. Green, not Riddle's dark, midnight blue she came to love. She quickly backed up, realizing her error. "Fox-dung," she muttered as the rustling increased in frenzy and volume. Her paws slipped into the water behind her, her white fur plastering to her legs, but she still continued back until she felt the cold water lapping at her stomach. A yowl ripped through the air and Iris flinched at the hostility of the noise.

"Stupid briars!" the voice hissed angrily before appearing in the shape of a lithe gray she-cat. She tumbled out of the bush, the tendrils of briars clinging to her fur like claws. Iris hissed as she realized the tiny cat posed no threat to her being and that she had been scared into the water by a cat no bigger than a kit.

She leaped out onto the shore and shook the water out of her fur, making it fluff up like a cloud. "And this is why I hate getting wet," Iris muttered, irked by the state of her fur. She ignored the little cat even when the thorns started to draw blood. She deserves it for scaring me, she thought with contempt.

The she-cat finally removed all the thorns and sat up, licking the patches where the briars had gotten past the fur. "Thanks for helping me out," she mewed sarcastically.

"Thanks for getting me all wet," Iris retorted in a voice with a hint of a snarl. She was coming to resent young cats. They always got in the way and trouble followed them everywhere. She was about to start back-- the she-cat made sure she scared off all the prey around with her yowls-- when the gray cat started to talk again.

"Do you possibly know of any herbs I could use so these don't get infected?" she asked. Iris almost brushed the comment off with a swift 'learn them yourself', but she realized she could use the moment to show off her knowledge-- and to gain information about what is happening to other cats during The End.

Instead, she murmured: "fine." She walked over to the edge of the pond to nip off a couple stalks of horsetail (the plant was good for curing or warding off infection) before sitting next to the gray cat and starting chewing the herbs for a poultice. "So, who are you?" Iris asked when she spit the mixture onto a leaf and prepared another.

"Athena," she said. Athena dabbed her paw into the substance and started smoothing it onto the cuts. Iris noticed she purred as the horsetail helped relieve some of the pain.

Iris nodded. "And how have you been doing through The End?" She had finished the rest of the herbs and now helped spread them onto the she-cat's gray fur.

Athena's eyes widened as she mentioned The End and Iris thought she saw realization dawn in their green depths. She meowed in amusement, "just now realizing the world is ending, huh?"

"No!" Athena snapped quickly, "it's just we don't talk about it much, and if we do, never so openly." She looked uncomfortable, fidgeting under Iris's gaze.

"Well, it's not like whispering it or calling it a different name will stop it from happening," Iris mewed dully.

Athena sighed and seemed to deflate. "We're doing fine, my father and I. He found a place where we can't even tell the effects of The End. No drought, storm, heat or frost can come in. It's a fortress. My father's fortress."

It was Iris's turn to be shocked. A place where the effects were not just suppressed, but muted entirely? And a fortress. Big enough for more cats to live, maybe even past the world's destruction.... The idea was tantalizing and an unbearable want for protection almost overwhelmed her. She wanted to live and this place might be able to provide that safety. This cat might be her only ticket in.

Chapter 12
Cherryheart’s POV

Cherryheart yawned and let her body uncurl in a luxurious stretch. She looked around their den, cool and shaded. She bounced as she remembered the other she-cat-- Leaf was her name-- had come to stay with them. "What should we do with her today?" she whispered as the others were still asleep.

While she was thinking of things the trio would be able to do that day, she found herself wandering outside. Dawn had just struck, but no pale pinks or brilliant reds painted the horizon. No, only a black, inky stain covered the sky. A loud rumble like a lion's roar ripped through the air and Cherryheart was hit by a gust of moisture-filled wind.

"It's gonna rain! It's gonna rain!" she yowled, racing into the den and violently shaking her friends awake in her excitement.

"Can't you ever sleep in?" Graffiti grumbled, flicking a paw over her face as if doing so would block Cherryheart out of her life.

Cherryheart moved on unperturbed to give the same treatment to Leaf. "It won't be dry all the time! Then we can swim and maybe it'll even cool down a bit. There was actually cold wind outside you know. Not that hot stuff, but real cold. And then it'll be wet and the ground will be muddy so we can run around in it and-- hey, how dare you throw moss at me!"

"'Cause that's probably the only way to get you to stop chattering," Graffiti muttered, scratching her claws in the ground to rid them of scraps of the moss.

Cherryheart flicked her tail and shook her head. Some cats just had to be grumpy all the time, she concluded. "Well, I'm going out. It's not burning hot outside now and mind as well while it's dark!"

"We all can. Some cats need the fresh air," Leaf mewed for the first time that morning. Cherryheart grinned and leaped up into the air, her tawny fur almost touching the roof of the den.

"If you insist," Graffiti grumbled, getting up slowly. Cherryheart grinned though she knew it was Leaf, not herself, that convinced the stubborn she-cat to move. She darted outside, happy for the cooling cloud cover.

A bolt of lightning lit up the landscape while the responding thunderclap arrived only heartbeats after. "Wow!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. The two other she-cats came out of the den to stand beside her just as a gust of wind came, carving a trail through the long grass before it erupted in the clearing, buffeting the cats.

They all lowered their bodies to the ground as to avoid being blown away. "I told you we should have stayed inside!" Graffiti yowled over the howling of the wind and the frequent cracks of thunder. The slim black cat started backing towards the entrance to the den.

"No! Fire!" Leaf screeched. Cherryheart whipped her head around to see the dreaded yellow and red licking over the grasses a tree-length away from Leaf. Cherryheart cringed, remembering the fire that had took her sister away, took her Clan away.

Palefeather. Twigfoot. She groaned as she remembered how they were violently torn away from her. Her vision flashed black and she could see Twigfoot's pale brown fur, streaked with flames; the creamy white of Palefeather, crushed and broken; the camp she left behind, flames painting the clearing red and yellow like the leaves in their maple forest territory. She crumpled, deflated, dead to the world.

"Cherryheart! Cherryheart! You must get up! Now! Now!" she heard a voice echo in her ear, soft and muffled. But then a crack of lightning caused her to flinch and blink open her eyes to see a panicked Graffiti leaning over her, the small cat trying to drag her away from the flames that were growing closer and closer.

Cherryheart heaved out a breath she never knew she was holding and scrabbled her paws underneath her. "Run! To the mountains! The flames can't get up stone!" She heard Graffiti call. Cherryheart started to move her paws into the familiar pattern of running, loosing herself in her grief as she dimly followed Graffiti's black fur, racing the flames across the burning plains.

Chapter 13 WIP

Marble FLASHBACK SCENE


Chapter 14

Graffiti crouched on the hard stone, watching Cherryheart’s light fur intently as it rose and fell, sometimes in an even rhythm, but often fluttery and ragged. She moved a paw and gasped as pain jolted through her previously injured shoulder. She grimaced and rolled it around a bit as to loosen the stiff muscles. She knew her shoulder wasn’t healed completely; the long run had taken its toll on the weak muscles. The small black cat gave a wry smile, wondering if she had pushed it past the point of ever recovering.

Even though the throbbing of her shoulder blocked most of it out, Graffiti could feel the rest of her body ache. Her eyes started to droop shut, but she forced herself to keep awake for Cherryheart’s sake. She wanted to be able to tell the tabby she was safe, watch her wake and comfort her. Graffiti had never been interested in Cherryheart’s past and had ignored most of her interminable blabbering, but now she wished she would have paid a little closer attention; maybe then she would have know what caused her to panic back on the burning plains and now what tormented her dreams.

Graffiti startled when one of Cherryheart’s paws lashed out, nearly gouging Graffiti’s muzzle with outstretched claws. She noticed the tabby’s breathing had become quicker, but still even, and padded over behind her where her claws couldn’t reach. She knew she had to take this moment when Cherryheart was conscious—or at least had some telling of the world outside—to tell her they were okay. Graffiti crouched behind Cherryheart’s head and started meowing gently in her ear, a soft whisper in the wind, to calm and reassure her.

An odd feeling crept into Graffiti’s consciousness, something she hadn’t really ever felt before. The words came like a gently flowing creek as she bent over her friend, a rhythm beating in her heart. Before long, Graffiti could feel the brown cat’s muscles relax and she slowly crept away to leave her rest in peace. As she curled up to sleep herself, Graffiti realized she could remember where the words had come from: her mother. The song, the lullaby that had just the same comforted her and her littermates, had been gently murmured by her mother each night as they curled up beside her. Graffiti purred, feeling safe and comforted herself, closed her eyes and drifted off with the sound of the song rolling through her head.

This time, it was Cherryheart who was awake first. Graffiti yawned and looked up to find the brown-and-ginger she-cat had pulled herself up and was sitting watching the rain pour through the hole in the roof. By some miracle of nature, the water rolled down the slight incline and flowed through a small hole with a gurgle, leaving the rest of the area dry without any worries of flood. The rain hit the floor and bounced back, creating a mist that covered the entrance like a translucent shield against everything that was coming to harm them. The same motion also produced a low drumming noise, and between the two, Graffiti felt safer than she had in a long while.

With a sigh, she padded over to Cherryheart and sat down silently beside her, watching the water in silence.

“I saw them again, you know. I watched them die,” Cherryheart murmured dully after a while, not turning away from the mist. “My sister, my mate, my father… I saw them in the fire.”
Graffiti blinked and turned to look to her friend, not knowing what to say to comfort her. She could not bring back the dead, nor could she force Cherryheart to forget the memories. Instead, she pushed her fur into Cherryheart’s and let her tail drop down her spine. “I’m sorry.”
Cherryheart dipped her head before slowly turning to look at Graffiti. Instead of sparkling with enthusiasm as they often were, the tabby’s brown eyes were flat and lifeless as she looked on Graffiti. However annoying she could get, it pained Graffiti to see her this depressed, hurting almost as if the grief were her own. “I’m glad you’re safe,” Graffiti mewed, “I was scared I’d lose you.”

She almost surprised herself to find that the worry had been genuine. The two opposite cats had formed a tight bond during their time in the grasslands, and to lose Cherryheart would have been like lopping off a limb: it would heal, but nothing would ever be the same. “It’s good being alive,” Cherryheart said quietly. “I only wish my Clan had that chance.”

Graffiti nodded wordlessly, wishing the same if only because Cherryheart would not have been distressed had that been the case. “Graffiti,” Cherryheart mewed suddenly, “where’s Leaf?”

Graffiti cringed and looked away from Cherryheart’s desperate eyes, trying to delay what she knew she would have to say. So many lies rose to her tongue, but they all tasted like bile and her lips would not form the words. She wanted to say Leaf was out hunting, or exploring a nearby cave, but she knew the falsities would only conceal the she-cat’s absence for a couple hours at most.
“Cherry… Remember how Leaf said she was chased out of the forest by the fire like you? Well, she blacked out too. I knew I didn’t have time to wake both of you --I barely got you up in time… Oh, Cherryheart, we just met her! I had to choose you, I had to. She still could’ve gotten out, somehow.” Graffiti realized she was clutching at straws, making up reasons Leaf could have lived through the flames. “Cherry, listen, I saved you so we could have a chance! Please, don’t make that go to waste!” she pleaded as the tabby started to moan once more.
The pain still wracked through Graffiti’s own body. If only I had woke her up too… she could’ve lived. Responsibility for Leaf’s death weighed down on Graffiti’s chest, but she forced it off. She needed to be strong. Not every cat could live through the end, and Leaf just… didn’t. They needed to live, if only for Leaf’s sake. Graffiti released the thoughts like air underwater and watched the bubbles float up and out of her, swimming away and back to the surface, to reality.

She found Cherryheart breathing deeply, her eyes closed. “We need to survive. We just need to survive this, and then we can grieve. We cannot die because the deaths of loved ones are weighing us down; they wouldn’t have wanted that. None of them…”

Heartened by Cherryheart’s new will to live, Graffiti smiled. She packaged all the memories of Leaf away and shoved them to the back of her mind, ready to remember when they were safe. For now, their only goal was to survive the end.



Chapter 15

Marble grumbled irritably and turned over in his nest. The rain had poured down for two sunrises now, or at least, he thought so. It was hard to tell in the never-ending gloom. Their stocked prey hole had kept them –he and Athena—comfortably full, but the large tom itched to move. He could always wander the tunnels and caves, but the action held little appeal today. He could hear the muffled raindrops echoing softly down the entrance tunnel and knew it must be raining hard, for only the heaviest of storms were able to penetrate this deep into the caves, even if it were only the top floor.

A slightly louder pattering echoed from behind him: the patter of pawsteps. Athena slipped past, a grey ghost in front of his nose, although she gave her father a good distance. He knew she could feel the irritation sparking in his fur. He could feel it on her as well. It was probably for the best that neither spoke during the passing: the massive grey tabby still was warming up to having company, even if it were his daughter, and his temper was said to be larger than he was, which was saying something as one could accurately describe him as a mountain.

He couldn’t tell how long he was lying there, only that his muscles had grown stiff what seemed like moons before, and now a frosting of moisture coated his thick mountain fur, humidity from the rain outside. The downpour had changed tempo many times, the echoing growing softer and louder as clouds dumped their loads and left, only to be replaced by another. It was almost as if they were standing in line, waiting to cry their tears and show their sorrows to what ghastly things they let happen to their land as they were gone.

A squelch sounded from above him, and he looked towards it immediately. The noise stood out like a white cat in the night, instantly drawing his attention. One would often look to any excitement when they everything has been unchanging for hours upon hours, and to Marble it was no different. He was about to pass the interruption off as something his mind had created when a slight pinging noise echoed down the entrance tunnel, growing louder and louder until a pebble bounced whisker-lengths from his nose and rolled to a stop at the other end of the cave. “Wetter than the kitchen sink,” a voice followed, muttering.

Marble pushed his mass down deeper into the messy bracken nest, trusting it to fold over his back and conceal him at least a bit. His eyes stared into the dim cavern, focused on the slightly darker patch of grey that was the way out.

Suddenly a bright patch of silver occupied the darkness, the vibrant color almost radiating light. Marble held his breath and pushed farther down as the cat looked over the cave, his mouth wide. The silver cat took a pawstep forward, and Marble leapt on his chance, quite literally. He forced his paws straight, quickly launching him into the air with a yip, throwing himself towards the tom as he now saw it was.

He didn’t even touch him. The shock of movement startled the tom far to the right, where he had performed a very clumsy and very instinctual sideways leap, landing with a yelp on his side. Marble resisted the urge to laugh, noticing now this tom was hardly old enough to be away from his mother, and a house pet at that. No forest cat would be that clueless as to walk into a very obviously occupied cave, and no forest cat would look so plump after this weather.
Instead, Marble continued on. “Who are you?”

The tom had stood up now, and was looking at him warily, his eyes wide. “My n-name is Sparkle—Spark. My name is Spark.”

“And why are you here?”

“Because I’m a wild cat and wild cats can do as they like,” Spark retorted, more than a little haughtily.

Marble gave a short laugh. Lies, he could see that easily. “If you’re a forest cat then I’m a mouse.” The massive tom gave a short flick of his tail, staring into Spark’s eyes. Give it up, house pet.

Spark sat, a slight snarl flickering on his lips before settling into a pout. “I ran away from my humans. I'm a wild cat now.”

“Well,” Marble mewed, “Wild cat or no, you’re still in my den and I still can eat you without any cat ever knowing.” A bluff, he knew. He would never kill a cat… not after he had done it once before.

Spark gave a slight huff but otherwise didn’t react to the threat. Either he was just stupid enough to think that Marble wouldn’t be able to kill him, or he could see the hesitation in the tom’s form. Marble figured it was the former, but either way the ruse failed.

Of course, Athena picked this to be the time to come back from deeper in the tunnels. “Who’s this?” she meowed, coming over to stand beside Marble.

“Some house pet that got lost in the storm. I was just about to show him the way out,” Marble meowed, his voice deep. Of course he couldn’t take in another cat! It was bad enough having to live with his daughter, but an outsider? Stars, why couldn’t he just live in peace.

Spark jumped up, eyes pleading. “You can’t send me out into the rain with no shelter! It’s… wet,” he finished lamely.

He was just about to reply with a sneering “watch me” when Athena spoke up. “No, he won’t. We have enough space for hundreds of cats here and wouldn’t mind you staying until after the rain dies down.” The large tomcat spun onto Athena, a snarl on his face. How dare she undermine his power in his own home! Yet if she was frightened, it didn’t show and she just stared determinedly into his face, unbudging.

“Fine,” he said shortly, turning and leaving Athena to deal with Spark herself. She got herself into this mess, and he wasn’t going to deal with it. He stomped back into his nest, curling up and watching as Athena showed the silver tom down into one of the caverns where they kept the bedding -- a well-chosen cave that was never really humid – and then off to another smaller cave where he could stay.

I just hope word that we’re sheltering cats doesn’t get out, he thought, eyes narrowed on the tunnel the two cats had just disappeared through, if this turns out to be some sort of safe haven for any cat that happens to want to come, I may just have to find another home. He sighed and forced his eyes closed, wishing to the stars that this could remain his fortress and his alone. Yet something twisted in his chest like snares of vines and he had a sudden and forceful thought that this just wouldn’t be true, however much he wished it to be.


Chapter 16

When Iris walked in, the first thing Gretzky thought was that he did believe in miracles. The white she-cat looked happy, truly happy, and he was still in the room. Instinctively, the small tom ducked away; in his dreams, Iris only looked like this just before her claws met his fur.

Yet the creamy she-cat just ignored him, instead dashing right over to Riddle and burying her nose into his fur.

The young tom cautiously stood and creeped over to them, curious to what was going on. Iris was purring, something that put him on edge. What in the darkened stars…

“Oh, Riddle, I found it. I found it.”

Gretzky pulled himself closer, edging into the shadows to keep out of sight. “You found what, Iris?” Gretzky found himself grinning at the sharp edge of exasperation tinging Riddle’s words. At least he wasn’t the only one annoyed by Iris’s constant vagueness.

As it was, Iris didn’t seem to notice and continued on with the same giddy enthusiasm. “I found a place to go. Someplace without the heat or the rain.”

“Where?” Gretzky had pulled himself out of the darkness in the older cats’ obvious distraction, and was now standing beside the two.

Iris beamed down at him with not a shred of disgust. He thought that was more impressive than Iris’s impossible discovery. “I don’t know,” she admitted, then gave a dismissive wave of her tail. “But someone’s coming to meet us at the pond tomorrow afternoon to take us there.”

Riddle was practically bouncing on his paws now that he knew what had gotten Iris so excited. Even Gretzky was smiling; Iris’s mood was contagious and caught on like a wildfire over dead bush. He hadn’t realized how… lifeless they were before.

Hope. Iris brought hope. Hope of survival when we had all but given up on it.

That was it, he realized, that was the reason for the excitement. A surge of pride for his discovery pushed him to stand taller. He understood now what the older cats always tacitly discussed in rough glances.

“That’s… amazing!” Riddle exclaimed. His dark blue eyes were bright against his dull fur.

Hope.

“Is there anything to do? Anything to bring?”

Gretzky jumped to help prepare for the move. Somewhere safe that wouldn’t be stifling during the day and freezing at night, where the only sleep you could fitfully grasp was at the dim times of dawn and dusk. A place where the roof didn’t leak when it rained and the water didn’t slide down the floor until everything was paw deep under mud and wet. A place where the ground didn’t send up clouds of blinding, suffocating dust in the times when the red sun decided to bake the earth beneath.

A safe place. Away.

“I’ll start packaging up the herbs,” he volunteered, eager to get moving.

Iris leapt back to join him. “I can help.”

“And I’ll see if I can catch some fish. We need strength for the journey.” As Riddle turned to leave, Iris jumped over to his side with a list of herb names that tickled Gretzky’s memory but didn’t have meaning. “I’ll keep a lookout. What was that last one again? Cellidine?”

Iris was smiling as she came back to my side, humming a familiar-yet-distant tune while she pulled out some shriveled leaves. The store looked pitiful, but for the first time in a long while there was a spark of life in the dim den.

Hope.

Chapter 17

“What do you mean he said no?”

“I mean he said no. No visitors, no one staying.”

Iris’s eyes were fiery and her lips barely covered a snarl. A small grey -- Athena, she remembered -- stood beside the waterside half under the curling reeds. She shifted her weight paw to paw, her eyes on the ground.

Iris stepped forward, closing the gap between them. She felt Riddle hanging behind, felt his hesitation.

Iris felt no such bounds. “Listen, little *add insults here*. You tell us where this Safe Haven is right now or I’m going to have to force it out of you. I bet you can give us good enough directions before you bleed out.”

Iris heard a squeak behind her, but flicked it off. She wasn’t interested in how Gretzki responded to her threats.

But if she was expecting a reaction from Athena, she wasn’t going to get one. The grey she-cat looked up, but only mild irritation was in the set of her jaw, not fear. Either she has no sense of self-preservation, or she thinks I’m a bluff, Iris thought. She had to give pause for a moment; was she really just casting empty threats? Before, she wouldn’t have even thought of violence, but after these few months. . .

She let her claws snick back into her paws. No, not with Riddle here. She wouldn’t get anything through to Athena by force. Besides, wouldn’t that just turn her father, keeper of this Haven, against them?

All this rushed through Iris’s head until she forced herself to step back with a rumbling growl.

“Look,” Athena started, “I really wish I could help, honest, but Father is adamant. He’s not accustomed to others being around, and he’s about as unbudging as the mountain he lives in.”

“How are you going to get back, then?” Iris’s jaw opened to challenge Riddle’s question, but she forced herself to look away. Her tactic hadn’t worked, but perhaps Riddle could find a way.

“What do you mean?”

“How are you going home?”

“The way I came, I guess?” Athena tipped her head, her words wary.

Riddle smiled. Iris cast her gaze from one to the other, trying to puzzle out why he--

“If you just walked, we could follow. You couldn’t stop us, really.”

“But Father said--”

Riddle shrugged. “We can deal with that when we get there. You delivered the message, this would be entirely on us.”

Gretzki came forward, his tail flicking by Riddle’s side. Iris realized how much the kit had grown since Riddle picked him out of the flood.

The day he ruined my life.

She turned her eyes away; looking at Gretzki wouldn’t get rid of her problem. Hopefully they could dump him on some other unfortunate cat once they reached the Haven.

“So what about it?” Athena hesitated. She could either travel with them or ahead of them, but they were coming either way.

Then she dipped her head with a small sigh and flicked her tail to signal them on. Iris grinned, jumping ahead of the two toms.

They would be safe at last.

Safe from the end.

Together.


Chapter 18

Cherryheart spread her paws apart further on the moist stone, trying to balance the weight of Graffiti on her shoulders.

“I almost have it,” the black she-cat grunted. Cherryheart had to shift her weight as Graffiti strained upwards, trying to hook her claws over the stone rim of the cavern.

It had rained for the rest of that day and the next. The two she-cats had no better place to go than the hole they had fallen in before, so they had stayed put, stomachs grumbling but at least having shelter. But the rain had slowed to a ist and light fought to put a glow in the sky.

It was time to break out of this prison.

“There!” Grafitti’s weight left as she she-cat hauled herself out of the hole and onto the flat stone above. Cherryheart stood, rolling the kinks out of her shoulders.

“How is it out there?”

“Scorched, but the rains at least put it all out.”

Cherryheart shifted her legs, preparing for the leap out. “On three?”

“One.” Cherryheart took that as a yes. “Two. Three!”

Cherryheart felt the pinch of Grafitti’s claws in her shoulders, and for a heartbeat everything stopped, Cherryheart hanging precariously from only her friend’s strength. And then she got her claws in the stone and helped pull herself up onto the stone. Both fell, panting but triumphant, free.









Chapter 19


"Murderer!" the light brown tabby hissed, bolting out of her friend's constraining claws and bowling the massive tom over. Anger flooded out of her fur in waves and although the heavy tom tried to throw her off, she stuck to him like a burr as they rolled across the cave floor. Now both sets of claws were out, red blood streaking the ground as torn shoulders hit it. Hard.

The tabby was still throwing insults throughout the fight as the rest of the cats were pushed to the sides of the cave, trying not to become entangled in the two cat's argument. "Filthy, lying foxdung! Killer! Murderer!"

Then the tom let out a grunt as a well-aimed kick from the tabby's paws left him on the ground, all air knocked from him. The tabby leaped onto his exposed chest and pinned him down, snarling and hissing in his face. Claws sheathed, the tabby started to push a paw down on his throat. The tom coughed and spluttered as the air stopped entering his lungs.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed inside of the cavern, lighting up the pale darkness like a small sun. "Stop! Stop! He didn't kill Redstar... I did."

Graffiti pulled away from the sight of the battle, returning to herself, and looked over to where the glow was coming from. She knew who this cat was, even without ever having seen her before. It was Palefeather, Cherryheart's sister.

“He didn’t do anything wrong! Leave him be!”

Graffiti let out a breath as Cherryheart released Marble from the floor, keeping him pinned but no longer pushing the life out of him. “P -- Palefeather?”

Marble gasped, grimacing. “I am a murderer, I’ll admit to that. But I did not kill Redstar.”

“Cherry… I’m sorry…”

Cherryheart threw herself forward, as if she were going to tackle down her sister instead, but just passed through Palefeather’s tawny fur as if she didn’t exist.

“What. Happened?” Cherrytail growled, her claws bared.

“It was Onyx’s plan in the beginning --”

Marble stood with a grunt. “My brother.”

“Yes, Marble’s younger brother. He was… amazing.” Palefeather grew distant, her eyes seeing into realms that Graffiti could not. It was odd, she thought, seeing a cat she knew to be dead.

“Onyx had a plan to get Palefeather out of MapleClan so that they could run off together. He told me a few suns previous.”

“But… Redstar… Redstar saw us and we couldn’t -- couldn’t let him know…”

Cherryheart narrowed her eyes, her voice flat. “So you killed him.”

“Onyx and I -- Oh, we didn’t know what to do. Marble was watching -- we didn’t know of course -- and after we killed Redstar to keep hidden...” She swallowed.

“I helped kill my own brother after that. I fought by Redstar. I had known him for moons, moons before Onyx was even born. Redstar didn’t deserve that kind of death. Redstar laid the final blow, just as Onyx had on Redstar. They killed each other, Cherryheart.”

“But Marble and I…”

“We couldn’t --”

“Didn’t.”

“Didn’t stop it from happening. I had my brother’s blood on my paws as he died.”

“And I Redstar’s.”

“Let the dead bury the dead. Only I should have to carry the guilt of not intervening when I should have.” The fur on Marble’s cheeks was wet.

“And I for thinking love was a reason to kill.”

Graffiti stood aside, watching with wide eyes as the two cats stood side by side -- two killers heavy with their hidden crimes.

Cherryheart looked from cat to cat, her amber eyes sparking. She let out a low growl, pushed past Marble to Graffiti’s side. Palefeather reached out a paw, “Cherryheart -- sister -- plea--”

Cherryheart spun on her with a snarl, bringing her muzzle into the glowing spirit’s face. “I’m no sister of yours. You as good as killed our father, then hid the truth, too cowardly to face the Clan. Face me. Don’t ever . . .” Graffiti pulled back from the she-cat, shaking with rage. “And to think I grieved over your death, you -- you.”

And then Cherryheart was gone, bolting down the tunnels and into the belly of the mountain, Graffiti left to watch with wide eyes as the rocks rattled behind her.



Chapter 20

It has been a half moon since the rains that had brought Spark. A week since Athena dragged in the others. It was three days ago since Jo and Mo wandered in. Yesterday I was attacked.

Today, I called a meeting to see what we -- I -- was going to do about all these cats.

Marble wriggled deeper into the floor, trying to make the rock more comfortable. Although it probably wasn’t the stone that put him off ease.


A small she-cat sat across from him, looking just as uncomfortable as he in the midst of the others. He caught her eyes and blinked. She blinked back.


Cherry was beside her, sticking to the other she-cat like a burr. He frowned. He remembered the way she had been as a kit, even as a young warrior. A bundle of energy, every bit of it put towards her Clan.

She wasn’t that cat anymore. He shivered.

Spark stood to the side, his silver-white fur pressed into Athena’s grey. The two new kittypets were close beside, huddled together in a mass of black and white patchwork. The three others Athena had pulled in stayed aloof from the rest.

These were the cats that had found their way into Marble’s castle the last few days.

“So,” he grunted, “I’ve been thinking about what to do about. . . this.” He gestured to the others. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t push your sorry tails back out into the End.”

“We don’t have homes!”

“Yeah, our humans left ages ago and there’s no food or nothing left.”

Marble just shrugged. “That seems to be everyone’s excuse, Mojo. Thing is, you could always find someplace else.”

“There is plenty enough space. Space for hundreds of cats. It’s just plain selfish to keep it all to yourself.” Marble turned to the ivory she-cat. He disliked the outwards malice in her voice, and fought to keep his own distaste to himself.

He failed. “Insults don’t work that well on me, honey. Selfishness is my own choice. If I want to kick you out, that’s my own reason. Being a bad guy for doing that doesn’t bother me.”

“So you would kick us out?”

Marble chuckled. “Didn’t I say that already? You are all tainting my home, so yes. And I wouldn’t hesitate to do so,” he added, seeing the dark tom readying himself to back up that mouthy she-cat.

He looked pointedly at the black she-cat, who hadn’t voiced anything so far. If there was a good argument to be had, he put his bets that it would come from her.

“We would die if we couldn’t stay!”

“Pity.” He didn’t even know who raised that comment, keeping his gaze on the black she-cat.

Silence. A thin shuffle of paws rattled a loose stone, but no cat could find another argument. Marble was as unbudging as the mountain he lived in, just as Athena had said.

“Power.” There she was, just as Marble had thought she would be. Graffiti stood, placing a paw thoughtfully to the center of the rough circle they had created. “Letting us stay would give you power: power over us, power over the others that don’t have it so well. You could say whatever you wished, and we would do it, for it would be better than being kicked out. . . death.”

Marble held back a smile, pondered her ideas. I wasn’t a bad thought. “Power as a whole,” he added. He let the proposition sink in.

The ivory she-cat stood as well, and Marble could see in her narrowed eyes that she had guessed to the implications of this “power.”

“I propose a tribunal -- three voices split evenly. And that this Safe Haven be open to any cat in need of shelter. Publicized.”

Athena hesitated, then nodded. “Iris’s points are reasonable.” Cherry looked to Grafitti, still standing, still near the center of the circle. He met Grafitti’s eyes again, saw her judgement there.

He felt the control slipping from his paws, knew he had to say something, and now. He stood. “No.” Voices clammered over the stone, but he growled until they fell into silence. “Word of the Haven will be taken to any cat we find. The more cats saved, the better.”

He felt the attention on him now. It was still his fortress, no matter how many cats came. Besides, having to share with hundreds or only one. . . there was little difference to him now.

“But,” he started, standing to his full height. “It is my Haven and mine only. You may choose your own representatives and your own ways, but my word is law.” The white she-cat simmered, but a glare kept her mouth shut. “No complaints? Good.”

And then it was settled.

The others filed out, back into their allotted caves. Already they had small groups, and stayed how they were. Marble didn’t bother with them. How they ruled themselves was none of his concern. Athena could worry about that.

Cherry and the black she-cat were the last ones out. The black she-cat hesitated under the archway, glancing back at him, her dark blue eyes flashing. But she didn’t speak, disappearing into the shadows, leaving Marble alone in the ringing silence.

He sat with a sigh, looking up to the rood as if the rock would crack and shatter in his gaze, the stars burning through stone.

What in the name of the Black Sky have I done?

Prologue

“Evacuation transport will be available for those near coastal areas -- BEEP -- Please stay calm. Do not leave your homes. Evacuation squads will arrive momentarily to assign you an Evacar -- BEEP -- A recent weather forecast shows that the heat will continue, however, we have been informed that the circumstances may change rapidly -- BEEP -- This is the Prime Minister. I assure you that this freak storm is nothing more than a solitary occurrence. Please stay calm until you are able to be evacuated -- BEEP -- End of the World? Is it really coming or -- BEEP -- BEEP -- Evac teams are waiting on shorelines. Please exit all water craft and board Evac ships -- BEEP -- Do not venture near water. I repeat, stay away from bodies of water -- BEEP -- This is the Prime Minister. I assure you that -- BEEP -- BEEP -- BEEEEEE

I flattened my ears against the ringing, but I couldn’t help a grin from spreading across my face. Hot wind tickled the fur inside my ears, and I gripped the side of the cliff tighter under my claws. I had to dig down deep into the dry, sandy earth before it had stopped crumbling and could actually hold my weight.

The top of my bluff overlooked the city in the distance. It was a jewel on the coastline, shining and glinting silver and gold as the sun set over the ocean. The ocean, lapping dark blue and sea green across the horizon. With the wind, it would seem as though the waves would be tall and curling, but this was not so. Instead, the water was as flat as a moonlit lake.

The ‘coastline’ was also stranded miles from its usual spot, leaving the seafloor exposed to the hot, hot sun. I could only imagine the stench of all those suddenly beached fish and other water creatures that were now land creatures with too much air to breathe, their corpses steaming and baking where the water once was. Although the wind was blowing this way, I was too far to smell that.

One thing I was glad of.

But what I enjoyed most was seeing the people milling around in a panic. I couldn’t pick out individuals, but clusters of humans were packed around large, yellow-and-orange boats. I had a good imagination, and so relished the scene of the panic, people pushing and shoving to try and be included on the Evacars -- as they called them on that annoying broadcast radio. I twitched my ears. Even the monotone beep was better than the looping announcements they’ve been playing for the last hour.

I watched and waited atop the bluff, my tail twitching in amusement. Silly humans.

I let the sun go down, dipping the last rays into the sea and throwing the town into abrupt darkness. Lights started to flicker on, little fireflies along the glow of the sea. The Evacars were like little suns in the night. But even with this, I couldn’t see what was going on. I couldn’t see the terror, the panic.

I got bored of watching the lights quickly. I stood, turned, and flicked my tail over my back. Behind me, the sea rushed into the city. Whatever leash that had been holding it back was now gone, and the ocean eagerly rushed in to claim its prize. I knew the city would be completely submerged in minutes, the surrounding basin in mere hours.

I growled, annoyed, as I padded down from the bluff. I shouldn’t have waited until night. I’d enjoyed watching the humans squirm for too long in my hubris.

Now I’d have to wait until dawn to see the aftermath.

Chapter 1

It wasn’t humid, just hot. The kind of hot that feels like it is pushing down on you, making it hard to breathe, let alone move. The kind of hot that pushes pins and needles into your limbs, that feels like fire on the back of your parched throat.

Iris dragged herself under the shade of an oak tree, but even being out of the sun didn’t help. The heat was in the air, a physical presence that pushed down on her. She was exhausted, though she had only walked from one patch of shade to the next. The shade that didn’t help one bit except as a mark of her movements. Shade to shade to shade. One step at a time. She drew in a long breath, and the air scorched her dry, scratchy throat. “Why does it have to be so hot?” she rasped, saying something to check that her voice hadn’t given out completely in the heat.

She hadn’t expected someone to respond. “I know what it is.” She twisted her head, too tired to be surprised as a cat materialized near the bark. He was tall, handsome. His dark brown fur shimmered in the heat, almost as if he were a mirage. “It’s the beginning of the End.” Iris rolled her eyes, disgusted by the snobby tones in his voice. As if he knew all the answers in the world. It was just such a gift that he decided to share his limitless wisdom.

The short rest had given Iris a bit more energy, enough to scoff at his words. “Yeah right.”

“What else can it be? Look at the sky, see for yourself!” he gestured up to the sagging leaves of the oak. Iris didn’t look; she didn’t need to. She had been marvelling at the sky since it had risen that morning. The sun was a drop of ink on the red velvet sky, a void of nothing where the once-golden orb once roamed. The horizons were shrouded in a deep maroon, arching up and paling to a rosy pink. No clouds wandered across this nightmarish skyscape.

It was unnatural, this red sky and black-void sun. But she didn’t want to agree with this tom, even though in the back of her mind, she knew he was right. “It’s just the sunrise,” she said, trying to sound as snobby as he had.

The dark tom just stared pointedly at her, twitching the tip of his tail until she gave in. “Fine,” she growled, “you win. Maybe it is the End.” She remembered all the stories and rumors about the supposed End. It was going to be a deep freeze, another ice age. It would be earthquakes and floods. The moon would crash into Earth and the damage to the atmosphere would suffocate everything -- that is, if the impact didn’t kill you first.

Iris had tossed all of this off as nonsense, but that had been before--

“Hey, I didn’t catch your name.” Iris blinked, snapped out of her thoughts. “Mine’s Riddle.”

“Iris,” she replied. Riddle, a funny name. But Iris liked it; it was quite. . . mysterious.

Riddle nodded and sat, his dark fur almost a part of the tree except for that shimmer. “So what brings you out into this horrible heat? You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” Iris conceded. ”But I could be asking you the same question.”

Iris could hear the smirk in the tom’s voice. “Valid point.” Riddle stood and, despite the heat, did so with dramatic flourish. “I happen to be on a very, very important quest. Confidential, though it pains me to keep silent.” He paused. “Though I wouldn’t think it would hurt to tell, just this once. . .” he smiled, all fangs. “I’m looking for something to fill the ol’ tum.”

Iris rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the grin from creeping up her face. “You missed your calling as an actor, Riddle.”

“How do you know I’m not one?”


“Because acting doesn’t matter in the End,” Iris’ voice dropped at the end, her last words almost a whisper. The heat pounded down around them, the ill-thought remark slamming both cats back into reality. . . or whatever messed up reality they had found themselves in. The reality of the End.

Riddle cleared his throat, and the silence was broken, even when the tension still crackled in the hot, hot air. “You have somewhere to go?”

Iris hesitated. “No, I was looking.” She didn’t give any details to why, and Riddle didn’t push. He either hadn’t noticed the edge to her voice or didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Riddle stood, stretched. Iris couldn’t fathom how he could still move in the heat, especially with his dark, shiny fur. For some reason, this made her laugh. Maybe it was the heat, maybe the tension playing butterflies in her stomach. Riddle blinked and tipped his head, but couldn’t keep a smile off his face. “Well I have room to share. Until you find a place, of course,” he added, casting a side glance at her.

Iris didn’t have to think long, and with her heavy mood shed it was suddenly easier to move in the pressing heat. Riddle gave a flash of a smile before slipping into the yellowed grass beyond the copse of trees.

Iris followed, watching the dark tom as he appeared and disappeared through the stalks. She hadn’t admitted it, but she hadn’t seen any other cat for days, maybe even weeks. Some company would be a good change.

And maybe together they would be able to survive the End.

Chapter 2

The tortoiseshell she-cat coughed, trying to rid her lungs of the suffocating smoke, but only succeeded in making her throat sting even more. Her eyes were streaming as she spun on her paws, the once beautiful MapleClan camp now a haze of smoke and flames. Tears joined in, and she had to blink in order to clear her vision. “Cherryheart!” She noticed movement in the smoke and jumped towards her sister’s voice just as a tree creaked and fell in front of her careening towards the ground and landing with a shower of sparks.

“Palefeather!” she screamed, her voice breaking as her smoke-filled throat cracked, filling her mouth with coppery blood. She jumped forward towards the tree, which was adding more smoke to the air but didn’t seem to be burning. The dust and smoke rose up from where it collapsed, shrouding the ground. Cherryheart slogged through it, as if it were muddy water or maybe deceased clouds. “Palefeather!”

Her sister didn’t respond. Cherryheart wanted to scream. She wanted to sob and scream her sister’s name until the stars showed her where her sister was. Palefeather had plenty of time to move away from the falling log. . . right? Cherryheart clung to this hope like a lifeline, whispering her sister’s name over and over as she searched. She felt something soft under her paw and flinched away. Pale grey fur. . .

She batted at the dust and smoke, desperately trying to force it away by sheer willpower. Embers popped behind her, and she jumped again. “Twigfoot! Stormhowl! Silverwasp! Anybody, help!” Cherryheart screamed, trying to make out a familiar pelt in the bright darkness. She felt her breaths coming in heaves, tears already streaking the sides of her face.

“Cherryheart? Is that you?”

“Twigfoot! Help me, it’s Palefeather!” she croaked, avoiding looking at the pale grey fur in front of her paws. “She’s stuck under this branch, if you can lift it I can get her out of there.”

Twigfoot nodded at my side, crouching and worming his way under the branch closest to the trunk. He stood, bearing most the weight of the branch on his tabby shoulders. “Hurry!” he hissed. Cherryheart grabbed her sister’s fur in her jaws and yanked her sister free of the branch.

But what she pulled out was not her sister. Her sister was not this squished mass of grey and pink. Her sister’s eyes were not dull and glassy.

Her sister was not dead.

No, this wasn’t Palefeather.

“Cherryheart! We have to go now,” Twigfoot said, stepping between Cherryheart and the thing that was not her sister. No. No. It wasn’t Palefeather. “Cherryheart!” His paws met my chest and shoved me away, sending my limp body skidding across the ash coated leaves. Light seared across her vision, and she frantically pushed herself further away from the flames that were now licking up the tree.

A scream echoed in front of her, and she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see the not-Palefeather. She didn’t want to see the not-Twigfoot. She took a deep breath, counted to three. . .

and then turned and ran, as fast as her paws would carry her. Faster and faster, racing across the forest, away from her burning camp and burning Clan.

Not her camp. It wasn’t her camp anymore. It was just trees and ash now.

Trees, ashes, and the not-Palefeather.

Cherryheart ran, as if running could distance herself from what happened just moments ago. Dead, dead, dead.

She was in a field now, looking back to where she had come. The MapleClan borders -- no, the trees -- were left far behind, only a pillar of gold and red where the magnificent forest once stood. It almost reminded her of how the maples looked in the fall. If she squinted her eyes, she could almost imagine that it was just the fall leaves that looked like a fiery blaze, that the smoke and ashes in her paws and throat was just dew and the cold breeze. . .

But the not-Palefeather flashed before her eyes and the illusion crumbled away, burnt beyond recognition. A sob broke free and she couldn’t look anymore, she couldn’t bear to see what had happened. Too soon, too close.

She turned away and kept running.
Chapter 3

A skinny squirrel hobbled between the birch trees, moving from trunk to another as if there would be some sort of food left beneath them. Unbeknownst to it, there was a cat crouched behind one of these birch trees, and that squirrel wouldn’t have to worry about the lack of seeds much longer.

Marble licked his lips, watching intently as the squirrel came ever closer to the tree he had crouched behind. It was scrawny, but looked much more appetizing than many of the things he had eaten after the drought. He waited, willing his stomach not to rumble and alert his soon-to-be prey of its hunter. That would be a bad way to go: starved because a growling stomach scared away all the prey.

Finally he could wait no longer. The massive tom gathered what energy he could and used it to jump towards the squirrel. It didn’t have the strength to run, and fell quickly. It may have even given in to its fate and died before his claws met its fur. Either way, it was still fresh prey.

Marble forced himself to eat it slowly, despite his hunger. It wouldn’t do to eat it so fast that he threw it all up later. A hungry stomach is like that: too much good food after not having any at all made it upset. So he savored every bite, glad of the fortune in finding prey that day.

Even with the squirrel as scrawny as it was, he only ate half of it. He left the remaining half, sitting and looking away so that his stomach wouldn’t get the better of him. He knew he should save part of it at least, ration his prey so that it could last longer. Who knew when he would find another squirrel? Instead, he waited contentedly for his stomach to settle, looking around the land.

He was in a place that was covered in birch trees. Their elegant trunks rose tall, their leaves golden like they would have been in the fall, although he knew it was because of the dry. Even the moss that usually grew in lush carpets was now brown and crackly beneath his paws: one of the reasons he couldn’t hunt as well as he had before, stalking anything caused such violent crackling that any prey could hear a cat from a mile away.

Marble was surprised -- and relieved -- that the birch copse had not gone up in flames. For the last two or three days, lightning and thunder constantly rumbled in the dark sky. With the forest so dry, it would only take a spark to set the whole place alight. But although there was clouds and thunder, not a drop of rain had fallen.

He hadn’t seen a single cat since the clouds rolled in. Well, not alive, anyways. He shuddered, trying to block out the memories of clumps of thin fur and bone and the rotting stench that followed.

It was because there was no water. With no water to drink, a cat might live a day or two, maybe three. But there wasn’t even any moisture in the air, and he knew a cat would be lucky to live more than a day without water now. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that there was hardly any prey to speak of.

So it came as a surprise to Marble when he heard a distinctly cat-like sound echoing through the trees. Even more surprising was that it had called his name. “Marble!” He turned with narrowed eyes. Nothing.

“Marble! It’s me!” Why is the voice so familiar? So very, painfully, familiar. . . he turned and came face to face with a cat. Suddenly everything snapped into place: the light grey fur, green eyes. Athena.

His daughter.

His only daughter, the daughter that shouldn’t exist. The mixed emotions of shock, anger and guilt roiled in his stomach, blocking his throat from any words that may have wanted to come out, not that there were any words he could say. Athena stared back at him, saw something in his eyes, and took a step back.

“Father, it’s me,” she whispered, never dropping her gaze.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see her, he didn’t deserve to see her. She looked so much like her mother. . . “I thought I told you to stay away,” he said, his voice calm. It was the forced calm that made the words so threatening, showing so very obviously the emotions layered beneath. “I told you to leave me alone.”

“I was around and I couldn’t just walk on by,” Athena argued. She had grown steel in her voice, and it took all he had to not run from her that very moment.

Marble was trembling with anger, and he felt his paws echoing through the ground. Too much, too soon. “Go. Away,” he hissed. He still couldn’t look at her.

“No! I will not just go away. You said Mother wanted us to be together, to keep each other safe. We need to stick together, help each other through the end.” Her voice crescendoed into something more primal. The steel had been stripped away, revealing the fragile, glass panic that had been right underneath. “Father, I need you!”

Her steel couldn’t make it past his fur, but the glass pierced straight through to his heart. He felt his rage drip through his paws back into the earth, leaving him hollow. At least anger was an emotion to fill his emptiness. He sighed and shuddered. Numbly, he nodded, walking away before returning to gather the squirrel in his jaws.

He was scared. Memories he had wanted to forget welled up where Athena had pierced his heart. He didn’t want a daughter, he didn’t deserve a daughter.

No murderer did.

Chapter 4

Graffiti clawed her way to the surface, only having time to gasp in another breath before she was plunged underwater again. The world spun around her, the current dragging the little black she-cat wherever it pleased. She couldn’t do anything against the force of it, except keep trying to struggle to the top when she could finally puzzle out the directions again. Up, down, sideways, she could hardly tell where she was anymore, only that her life had suddenly turned to water.

Panic fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird -- or was that the air that wanted to come out? The life-giving air, so important when she was pummelled under the tide. It would have been so easy to watch the bubbles float in front of her face, just let the water take her. She screamed, letting loose a flurry of white bubbles in the darkness, pushing off of the ground and back up towards the air.

She pushed against the water with her paws, gasping, trying to stay up for as long as she could. She had to stay up, she couldn’t go tumbling under again. Buildings flashed in the sides of her vision, dark, frothing water slamming against the glass. She was moving fast, faster than she could have ever imagined water could move. Other things rushed on the top of the water: cars, wood, unidentifiable metal objects.

She tried to orient herself forward, to see where she was headed. Surely the water had to stop somewhere. There must be something she could grab onto to ride out the waves. Everything was dark, no stars lit the night sky. Streetlights were buried meters under the frothing waters. Everything was dark and shadows, rushing past in a blur. She churned her paws, having figured out how to keep herself afloat. She took a deep breath.

And then everything went sideways. She was spinning, choking on the water that had once been air. Panic slammed back as she lost orientation. Where was the sky? Where was the air? She saw a shadow growing in front of her, the dark water growing even darker until blackness filled her vision.

She couldn’t even see the wall as she slammed into it with the force of the current, feeling only pain before she didn’t feel anything at all.

- - -

Where? Where am I? Graffiti’s heart nearly stopped when she couldn’t open her eyes. Panic surged, even more powerful than the water-storm-- the water-storm. The memories flooded back, and horrific as they were, they grounded her as she tried to wrestle her emotions back into control. She counted her breaths, relaxed her muscles. Only then did her eyes flutter open.

Everything was white. Then the color started to leech in, darkening into shadows and objects. Splashes of vibrant color marked the twisted remains of cars, what little of them there was left after the water-storm tore through. She watched for a moment, counting her heartbeat. After a while she fell into a daze, the colors blending together until they no longer resembled what they were. She didn’t know how long she stayed like this before she realized what was happening and fought against it. She blinked and the images swirled back to be contained in their normal shapes, albeit a bit hazily.

She knew she couldn’t stay lying about. She had hit her head in the water-storm, hard enough to knock her out. She couldn’t slip back into sleep, however desperately it wanted to claim her. With this kind of injury, even she knew that to give in to sleep would mean death.

With that thought in mind, the small black she-cat tried to gather what strength she could, building herself back up from her core. Then she stood. At first the world pitched under her paws, and she gasped, stumbling a few steps sideways before she could find balance. Paws splayed wildly beneath her, Graffiti gritted her teeth and waited for the world to stop spinning. The stones in front of her grew doubles, then triples in her vision. She hissed and everything shuddered back into one.

It felt as if she had run across the whole city and back. Her paws shook, threatening to send her crashing back to the ground. No, no, she couldn’t give up that easily! She pushed away her weaknesses, instead taking a step forward. Then another.

Her left shoulder flashed with pain as soon as she touched the ground, and she pulled it up as though it had been dipped in lava. She couldn’t see her shoulder itself, but she could see the crusted blood down the side of her leg, matting the fur on that side. Gingerly, she let her paw down again, little by little until she could at least use it to balance. She hobbled forward, trying not to let her left paw take too much of the weight.

After a few more wobbly steps her confidence grew. The same blackness pushed down on her mind, but at least now she was pushing back. She gave a humorless grin and took another step.

She had to get out of this place. She had to get away as far as possible. Graffiti let that one thought occupy her brain until it nearly swallowed up the blackness, throwing it back to be a tiny, angry speck, surrounded by her determination.

She had lived through the water-storm. She wasn’t going to die that easily.

She smiled, even if it was more of a grimace, but didn’t stop walking until the concrete gave way to grass and the rays of the morning sun poked out from over the hills. Only then did she let her body rest, knowing that she had did as much as she could possibly do to fight for her life.

She could only hope that it was enough before the darkness grew and swallowed her up.

Chapter 5

Iris rested her head on her paws with a soft sigh. Since she had met Riddle three days previous, she had been using his den. She told him it would only be temporary, that she would find someplace of her own, but as the days went past she became more and more reluctant to leave.

She knew Riddle felt the same.

Neither cat had found another in those three days, and they worked as a good team. She had never went hungry when she and Riddle were hunting together, the pond to the south had kept them cool and sated. She was never lonely when Riddle was around.

Riddle, the cat with the mysterious name, wasn’t so mysterious to her anymore. She smiled. No, she knew him now. She had solved his riddle.

“Iris?”

“Yes?” the ivory she-cat replied, stretching out her paws and extending her claws into the cool earth.

Riddle popped out from deeper in the den, shaking the dust off his pelt as he entered the main chamber. Even in the dim earthy hollow, his fur shimmered. “I’m going out to the pond, maybe you’d like to join me?”

It wasn’t really a question. What reason would she have to decline?