Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2021 15:58:25 GMT -5
PART ONE
PROLOUGE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
PART TWO
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
PROLOUGE
A frozen river surrounds a small patch of land. Reeds and thorn bushes surround the island, glittering with frost. A single, lone tree grows in the center. Its leaf-less branches clatter in the cold wind. The tall grass by one side of the river parts, to reveal a beautiful white cat with blue eyes, like a clear sky. Falling Snow runs across the ice, toward the island. She doesn’t see the cracks in the ice. Her paw presses against a splintered patch of ice. OH NO! A loud crack echoes across the river and the surrounding moor as Falling Snow meets her watery grave.
Her head jolts when she wakes. She breathes heavily for a few moments. Her eyes dart around her surroundings. I am in the nursery of Frost Clan, mother to three kits. Certainly NOT drowning in a river! her mind screams. The soft moss presses against her side as she settles back.
“Mommy?” a small voice mews.
She looks down to look at her oldest, Lynxkit. She is a light brown tabby, but her tufted ear tips are a dark brown, almost black. Same with Lynxkit’s tail tip, muzzle, and paws.
“Yes, sweety?” Falling Snow says.
“Did you have a nightmare?” Lynxkit asks, her green eyes curious and worried.
“No,” Falling Snow lies. If she told Lynxkit, she would tell her two brothers, and the white queen DID NOT want her three kits to worry about her.
“Okay,” Lynxkit mumbles. The small kit ducks her head, drifting into sleep again.
Falling Snow stands, careful to not disturb her three slumbering kits and the other queens. I need air. She turns to look at her kits. They’ll be fine. She walks out the den. It’s the middle of the night. At least, she thinks so. Dark clouds cover the moon and stars, most likely caring a new snow. The frozen ground crunches as she heads to the camp’s exit. A mixture of tall grass, reeds, and a thorn bush make a tunnel. This tunnel is the exit and entrance to FrostClan’s camp. At the edge of the camp, she pauses before crossing the frozen river. It was a stupid dream. Not real. Not real, she reminds herself.
She walks across the ice, to shore. Before she reaches solid ground, she catches something in the corner of her eye. She glances at it, but it just her shadow. I am just jumpy from the dream, she reassures herself. Small snowflakes start to fall, sticking onto her white pelt. Then something solid hits her side. She stumbles to right herself, turning toward her attacker. Her head whips from side to side. Nothing. Something shoves her again, harder, causing her to fall and skid across the ice. Falling Snow can feel bruises forming on her ribs.
Then something whispers in here, “You will do nicely.” Whoever’s voice it is sounds sinister and high pitched but cracked, like it hasn’t spoken in a thousand years. She struggles to her feet then feels something slash across her throat. Sharp pain blossoms from her neck. She coughs and a dark liquid drip from her neck onto the ice below her. Blood. The drip becomes more constant. She fumbles to stand. I am going to die, she realizes. I never said goodbye. Her vision clouds and her legs shake. As she stumbles toward her camp, she collapses, her legs giving out. She continues coughing until she dies.
Her head jolts when she wakes. She breathes heavily for a few moments. Her eyes dart around her surroundings. I am in the nursery of Frost Clan, mother to three kits. Certainly NOT drowning in a river! her mind screams. The soft moss presses against her side as she settles back.
“Mommy?” a small voice mews.
She looks down to look at her oldest, Lynxkit. She is a light brown tabby, but her tufted ear tips are a dark brown, almost black. Same with Lynxkit’s tail tip, muzzle, and paws.
“Yes, sweety?” Falling Snow says.
“Did you have a nightmare?” Lynxkit asks, her green eyes curious and worried.
“No,” Falling Snow lies. If she told Lynxkit, she would tell her two brothers, and the white queen DID NOT want her three kits to worry about her.
“Okay,” Lynxkit mumbles. The small kit ducks her head, drifting into sleep again.
Falling Snow stands, careful to not disturb her three slumbering kits and the other queens. I need air. She turns to look at her kits. They’ll be fine. She walks out the den. It’s the middle of the night. At least, she thinks so. Dark clouds cover the moon and stars, most likely caring a new snow. The frozen ground crunches as she heads to the camp’s exit. A mixture of tall grass, reeds, and a thorn bush make a tunnel. This tunnel is the exit and entrance to FrostClan’s camp. At the edge of the camp, she pauses before crossing the frozen river. It was a stupid dream. Not real. Not real, she reminds herself.
She walks across the ice, to shore. Before she reaches solid ground, she catches something in the corner of her eye. She glances at it, but it just her shadow. I am just jumpy from the dream, she reassures herself. Small snowflakes start to fall, sticking onto her white pelt. Then something solid hits her side. She stumbles to right herself, turning toward her attacker. Her head whips from side to side. Nothing. Something shoves her again, harder, causing her to fall and skid across the ice. Falling Snow can feel bruises forming on her ribs.
Then something whispers in here, “You will do nicely.” Whoever’s voice it is sounds sinister and high pitched but cracked, like it hasn’t spoken in a thousand years. She struggles to her feet then feels something slash across her throat. Sharp pain blossoms from her neck. She coughs and a dark liquid drip from her neck onto the ice below her. Blood. The drip becomes more constant. She fumbles to stand. I am going to die, she realizes. I never said goodbye. Her vision clouds and her legs shake. As she stumbles toward her camp, she collapses, her legs giving out. She continues coughing until she dies.
CHAPTER ONE
Fierce Lynx sits in front a small pile of pebbles with violets blossoming from the center. A silver feather is tucked under one of the pebbles. A single oak tree grows around the several graves, the flowing green leaves swaying in the warm breeze. Some of the graves have been overtaken by the tough and long moor grass, the pebbles scattered around patches of the ground. She hears a rustling in the grass. She stands, turning to the direction of the noise. Nothing is catching me! her mind pounds. She lunges, only to pin her brother under her brown paws. Shining Ice looks startled, then shoots Lynx an annoyed look.
“How polite. Is this your new greeting?” Ice asks sarcastically.
“Aren’t you funny?” Fierce Lynx snaps as she gets off her brother. Shining Ice looks exactly like his mother, the pristine white fur and pale blue eyes.
“I came to ask if you want to go hunting. Do you?” he asks as he settles his ruffled pelt.
“Is it safe with that thing around?” Lynx asks nervously, looking down at her claws. She remembers all to well the number of deaths being caused by some mysterious figure. Only one cat has survived, and he is out of his mind.
“It has only attacked when the sun isn’t up. It is sunhigh. Besides, I can beat anyone.” Shining Ice leaps into the moor grass.
“Fine. But just to clarify, I am only coming so that it doesn’t attack you,” she calls, leaping after him. Whatever that was murdering cats only attacked at night and when they were alone.
The two young apprentices’ pad into FrostClan camp, proud of their catch. Even though they are the youngest apprentices, they are talented hunters. Lynx caught three mice, a rabbit, and a thrush. Ice caught four mice, a rabbit, and even a squirrel, which are one of the rarest prey in their territory. After distributing the prey between the elders and queens, they head to the fresh kill pile with two spare mice. Exchanging their prey for a rabbit to share, they head to the other apprentices.
The apprentice’s den is right next to the fresh-kill pile and nursery, which is in the back of the camp. The warrior’s den is near the entrance. The medicine cat’s den, also known as the Refuge, and leader’s den is somewhere in the middle of the camp. In the center of the camp is a tree with flowing green leaves. The leader made his announcements on one of the lower branches. The camp is on an island protected by cattails, reeds, thickets, and the river.
The other apprentices munch on their meal in front of the apprentice den. Rain Cloud laughs at something River Mud said. Raging River seems to be choking down his amusement better than his sister.
“… I charged at the squirrel, dashing as fast I could. Then I trip over a tree root and go crashing through the ferns. The squirrel was….” Her brother’s voice trails off as he saw Lynx and Ice. “Come join us.” Mud flicks his tail at them. His siblings lay down, digging into their fresh kill. Mud is a brown tom with sand yellow eyes. He is friendly and fun be around with.
“Where you two all day?” River asks, his blue eyes curious. Raging River is a gray tom who is strict and, to Lynx, has and never will break Clan Law. And if he does, I will die of shock.
“Hunting,” Ice mumbles through a mouthful of rabbit.
“Where is Sparrow?” Lynx asks. After surviving an attack by that dangerous creature, he’s been isolated himself.
“Back there.” Rain Cloud nods to the apprentice’s den. Why didn’t you get him? she wanted to shriek.
“I will be right back.” Lynx walks into the den. She sees a huddled figure in it, crouching over something.
“Sparrow? Want to come out?” Lynx asks, trying so sound like the queens did to kits, kind and caring.
“No,” he replies flatly. He turns to look at her. Lynx tries to flinch or run out of the den. One side of his face has a tired green eyes and short, brown fur. The other side had a blind eye with a nasty scar stretching across it and an ear so torn, it flops. His fur is patchy on the scarred side of his face. In front of his paws are leaves and berries. Since surviving the attack from the monster, he swapped prey with herbs.
“Come on. Your mentor, your family, and your friends have left you alone enough,” Lynx snaps, no longer trying to be kind. I didn’t moan like a dead cat when my mother died, her mind snarled. Sparrow gives her a dirty look, snatches up his leafy meal, and slinks out the den. Lynx follows him, only to find him veering away from the apprentices. Fury ripples through Lynx as he enters the Refuge. She stomps after him.
Peering into the medicine den, she sees him nibbling on the herbs, mumbling with the medicine cat, Kayla. Kayla was former kittypet. She is small, brown tabby with glowing green eyes. She is kind and sweet, but if she wants a pesky kit to eat his medicine, she finds a way. Kayla’s eyes snap from Sparrow's to Lynx’s.
“Need something?” she asks with her honey sweet voice. Lynx shakes her head, going back to the other apprentices. As she chews the remaining parts of the rabbit, she wonders which brother she will lose first, mentally or physically.
“How polite. Is this your new greeting?” Ice asks sarcastically.
“Aren’t you funny?” Fierce Lynx snaps as she gets off her brother. Shining Ice looks exactly like his mother, the pristine white fur and pale blue eyes.
“I came to ask if you want to go hunting. Do you?” he asks as he settles his ruffled pelt.
“Is it safe with that thing around?” Lynx asks nervously, looking down at her claws. She remembers all to well the number of deaths being caused by some mysterious figure. Only one cat has survived, and he is out of his mind.
“It has only attacked when the sun isn’t up. It is sunhigh. Besides, I can beat anyone.” Shining Ice leaps into the moor grass.
“Fine. But just to clarify, I am only coming so that it doesn’t attack you,” she calls, leaping after him. Whatever that was murdering cats only attacked at night and when they were alone.
+++
The apprentice’s den is right next to the fresh-kill pile and nursery, which is in the back of the camp. The warrior’s den is near the entrance. The medicine cat’s den, also known as the Refuge, and leader’s den is somewhere in the middle of the camp. In the center of the camp is a tree with flowing green leaves. The leader made his announcements on one of the lower branches. The camp is on an island protected by cattails, reeds, thickets, and the river.
The other apprentices munch on their meal in front of the apprentice den. Rain Cloud laughs at something River Mud said. Raging River seems to be choking down his amusement better than his sister.
“… I charged at the squirrel, dashing as fast I could. Then I trip over a tree root and go crashing through the ferns. The squirrel was….” Her brother’s voice trails off as he saw Lynx and Ice. “Come join us.” Mud flicks his tail at them. His siblings lay down, digging into their fresh kill. Mud is a brown tom with sand yellow eyes. He is friendly and fun be around with.
“Where you two all day?” River asks, his blue eyes curious. Raging River is a gray tom who is strict and, to Lynx, has and never will break Clan Law. And if he does, I will die of shock.
“Hunting,” Ice mumbles through a mouthful of rabbit.
“Where is Sparrow?” Lynx asks. After surviving an attack by that dangerous creature, he’s been isolated himself.
“Back there.” Rain Cloud nods to the apprentice’s den. Why didn’t you get him? she wanted to shriek.
“I will be right back.” Lynx walks into the den. She sees a huddled figure in it, crouching over something.
“Sparrow? Want to come out?” Lynx asks, trying so sound like the queens did to kits, kind and caring.
“No,” he replies flatly. He turns to look at her. Lynx tries to flinch or run out of the den. One side of his face has a tired green eyes and short, brown fur. The other side had a blind eye with a nasty scar stretching across it and an ear so torn, it flops. His fur is patchy on the scarred side of his face. In front of his paws are leaves and berries. Since surviving the attack from the monster, he swapped prey with herbs.
“Come on. Your mentor, your family, and your friends have left you alone enough,” Lynx snaps, no longer trying to be kind. I didn’t moan like a dead cat when my mother died, her mind snarled. Sparrow gives her a dirty look, snatches up his leafy meal, and slinks out the den. Lynx follows him, only to find him veering away from the apprentices. Fury ripples through Lynx as he enters the Refuge. She stomps after him.
Peering into the medicine den, she sees him nibbling on the herbs, mumbling with the medicine cat, Kayla. Kayla was former kittypet. She is small, brown tabby with glowing green eyes. She is kind and sweet, but if she wants a pesky kit to eat his medicine, she finds a way. Kayla’s eyes snap from Sparrow's to Lynx’s.
“Need something?” she asks with her honey sweet voice. Lynx shakes her head, going back to the other apprentices. As she chews the remaining parts of the rabbit, she wonders which brother she will lose first, mentally or physically.
CHAPTER TWO
Someone’s paw prods Lynx in the side. Again, the cat prods her.
"Go away,” she mumbles, putting her paws over her ears. The cat prods harder.
“Windstar wishes to see you,” Kayla meows sharply.
“Can it wait?”
“Nope.”
Lynx groans, slowly getting up, forcing her eyelids open. After a long stretch, Kayla and the apprentice pad to the leader’s den. Few cats are out this early in the morning. The sun isn’t even up yet, her mind growls. The leader’s den was a badger burrow, but the badger is long gone. There are a few other tunnels, but the main one leads to Windstar’s den. Some of the tunnels have collapsed, so Lynx is nervous, waiting for a few hundred pounds of soil and rock squash her. Kayla, on the other paw, stares straight ahead of her. She is either afraid and hiding it, or she isn’t bothered by the fact we could die any moment down here, Lynx’s mind observes.
A final turn in the tunnel leads them to a decent sized den. It’s as big as the elder den. A large mossy nest decorated by silver feathers and violet flowers is in the center. There are three cats in the den, five if you include Lynx and Kayla. Windstar, a gray tom, sits in the center of the nest, looking regel but slightly nervous. Clouded Sight, an old blind black tom, is sitting near the back of the den. Morning Dew, the gray deputy, paces by the nest. Lynx and Kayla sit by the entrance to den.
“Can we start now?” Morning Dew asks impatiently. Windstar nods.
“As you all know, our Clan has been attacked by some mysterious being. We know they avoid light and strikes when cats are alone. I am concerned about the other Clans, who live in shaded forests, and if they have been terrorized by this new threat. I have a plan where all the Clans can live safely, if not safer. We live in a moor that stretches farther away than most of you think. I will propose at the next gathering if the Clans will come there.” There is nothing but stunned silence. The deputy breaks the silence.
“Do you think this is wise? Morning Dew snaps. “They could invade our territory! And why are you concerned about outside of FrostClan? In fact, we can use their weakness to gain more territory!” she yelps with glee.
“I will not be another Hailstar!” Windstar yowls at her. Lynx remembered the story. Hailstar took power years ago, when the Clans were new. She terrorized her Clan, making kits fight way to young, hardly feeding the elders, trying to take all the territory she could get. Some escaped from her, going to other Clans to share the story and plead for help. The Hail War had begun with the first battle between SnowClan and StormClan. The war ended when she was killed in an invasion by IceClan and the help of StormClan.
Lynx snaps to attention as Clouded Sight croaks, “There are many flaws in this plan. They will be not eager to go, they will have to hunt a different way, make a camp, as well as boundaries. That will be an issue we most likely be thrown in.”
“I know. I see them. But we have four Clans since the beginning, and I don’t to lose that,” he meows softly. “You all are dismissed.”
Morning Dew stomps out of the den. Kayla guides the old tom toward the exit. Why was I included in this meeting? Lynx wonders. I’ll ask Kayla later.
The rest of the day is uneventful except for who will be going to the gathering. Lynx, Mud, and River get to go. Mud squealed with excitement but Lynx dreads this gathering, wondering what new dangers are to unravel.
"Go away,” she mumbles, putting her paws over her ears. The cat prods harder.
“Windstar wishes to see you,” Kayla meows sharply.
“Can it wait?”
“Nope.”
Lynx groans, slowly getting up, forcing her eyelids open. After a long stretch, Kayla and the apprentice pad to the leader’s den. Few cats are out this early in the morning. The sun isn’t even up yet, her mind growls. The leader’s den was a badger burrow, but the badger is long gone. There are a few other tunnels, but the main one leads to Windstar’s den. Some of the tunnels have collapsed, so Lynx is nervous, waiting for a few hundred pounds of soil and rock squash her. Kayla, on the other paw, stares straight ahead of her. She is either afraid and hiding it, or she isn’t bothered by the fact we could die any moment down here, Lynx’s mind observes.
A final turn in the tunnel leads them to a decent sized den. It’s as big as the elder den. A large mossy nest decorated by silver feathers and violet flowers is in the center. There are three cats in the den, five if you include Lynx and Kayla. Windstar, a gray tom, sits in the center of the nest, looking regel but slightly nervous. Clouded Sight, an old blind black tom, is sitting near the back of the den. Morning Dew, the gray deputy, paces by the nest. Lynx and Kayla sit by the entrance to den.
“Can we start now?” Morning Dew asks impatiently. Windstar nods.
“As you all know, our Clan has been attacked by some mysterious being. We know they avoid light and strikes when cats are alone. I am concerned about the other Clans, who live in shaded forests, and if they have been terrorized by this new threat. I have a plan where all the Clans can live safely, if not safer. We live in a moor that stretches farther away than most of you think. I will propose at the next gathering if the Clans will come there.” There is nothing but stunned silence. The deputy breaks the silence.
“Do you think this is wise? Morning Dew snaps. “They could invade our territory! And why are you concerned about outside of FrostClan? In fact, we can use their weakness to gain more territory!” she yelps with glee.
“I will not be another Hailstar!” Windstar yowls at her. Lynx remembered the story. Hailstar took power years ago, when the Clans were new. She terrorized her Clan, making kits fight way to young, hardly feeding the elders, trying to take all the territory she could get. Some escaped from her, going to other Clans to share the story and plead for help. The Hail War had begun with the first battle between SnowClan and StormClan. The war ended when she was killed in an invasion by IceClan and the help of StormClan.
Lynx snaps to attention as Clouded Sight croaks, “There are many flaws in this plan. They will be not eager to go, they will have to hunt a different way, make a camp, as well as boundaries. That will be an issue we most likely be thrown in.”
“I know. I see them. But we have four Clans since the beginning, and I don’t to lose that,” he meows softly. “You all are dismissed.”
Morning Dew stomps out of the den. Kayla guides the old tom toward the exit. Why was I included in this meeting? Lynx wonders. I’ll ask Kayla later.
The rest of the day is uneventful except for who will be going to the gathering. Lynx, Mud, and River get to go. Mud squealed with excitement but Lynx dreads this gathering, wondering what new dangers are to unravel.
CHAPTER THREE
Lynx flops into her mossy nest. Sparrow is sleeping right beside her. Lately, he thrashes in her sleep and she ends up with several bruises when his paws pound her. She can’t blame him for bad dreams; she has them too. However, this time he is still.
Lynx curls up, exhausted from the day. She had woken up early from the meeting with Windstar, then did some battle training and learned tactics. After that, she spent the rest of the day hunting. When she came back, a Clan meeting was held, which announced which cats would go to the gathering. She wasn’t looking forward to the trouble ahead. She never got the chance to ask Kayla why she went to the meeting with the leader and never got the needed nap. She rests her head on the moss and is asleep in moments.
As soon as Lynx opens her eyes, she can tell she is in a dream. A thick fog hangs over tall pine trees. A ravine stretches a few fox lengths ahead of her. She twists her head back and comes nose-to-nose with a skeletal she-cat. She backs away from the cat, studying her. She is twice the size of Lynx. The short, brown fur is full of burrs and knots, with a torn ear that flops. Her eyes are like the color of violet flowers, though a little darker in color. Her eyes disturb Lynx. Her muzzle is flecked with dark red splotches. Blood, she guesses.
“Hello, Lynx,” the strange she-cat whispers. The voice sounds like howling wind mixed with a raspy voice. Lynx freezes, staring at the brown she-cat. She doesn’t recognize this cat from anywhere.
“How do you know my name?” Lynx asks, trying not to sound scared. Her voice wobbles a little, though. The she-cat smirks, as if amused by her.
“Puffing up your tail makes you look more like a scared kit,” the stranger observes. Lynx flicks her tail into vision. It trembles a little and the fur is puffed out. She frowns at it, then curls it across her hindlegs.
“Who are you?” Lynx asks, not taking her eyes from her tail.
“Now is not the time for introductions,” the brown cat muses, “but for making deals. You will do what I ask of you.”
“Or what?” Lynx snaps, giving the she-cat glare. No one bosses her around, especially someone from a dream.
“Or I will kill your remaining family,” the stranger sneers.
Lynx pounces on the she-cat, pinning her in place. Her body trembles with fear and anger.
“NO ONE THREATENS MY FAMILY!” she snarls.
The she-cat's face is expressionless, staring at something beyond Lynx. Lynx turns her head. The she-cat shoves her off her with astonishing speed and strength, sending her tumbling across the grass. Before Lynx can turn to her enemy, a large black cat leaps over her. He lets out a deafening roar at the strange she-cat. It reminds Lynx of thunder.
The she-cat stumbles back a few steps, staring dumbstruck at the large tom.
“Go, and I will spare you,” he snarls. The she-cat bolts into the trees, swallowed by the fog.
The giant tom turns to Lynx. His eyes are a deep blue and he bears no scars. He walks over to her, then bends his head. For a terrifying moment, she thinks he is going to bite her head off. However, he picks her up by the scruff, and starts running across the foggy terrain. Lynx wiggles and twists, trying to free herself. After a few tries, she gives up, watching the world go by.
The pine trees start to be more spaced out as the tom carries her away. The fog lifts and she watches a single tree disappear behind them. Ahead of them, a flowing meadow stretches as far as she can see. Large oak trees dot the land here and there. Bubbling streams wind their way in a curved line across small hills.
The tom heads to a large oak tree with a large boulder leaning against it. One cat is pacing by the boulder. A familiar cat. Sparrow stops pacing and sits, watching them.
Knowing Sparrow, she knew he would mock her being treated like a kit, dream or not. She thrashes, throwing her body to the side. She swipes with her claws, trying to hit the giant tom. The large cat drops her when she starts biting at his whiskers.
After rubbing a paw over his muzzle a few times, he glares at Lynx. “It's like you want me to hurt you,” he growls at Lynx.
“Maybe you should start introductions before you throw me around like a mouse,” she snaps.
“You want to know my name?” the black cat asks. “I am Deathstar.” Great, giant black wings appear from his back. He spreads them majestically, blocking out the light.
Lynx inhales sharply. She recognizes that name. She is facing one of the leaders of DawnClan. This isn’t a dream then, she realizes. It's real.
Lynx curls up, exhausted from the day. She had woken up early from the meeting with Windstar, then did some battle training and learned tactics. After that, she spent the rest of the day hunting. When she came back, a Clan meeting was held, which announced which cats would go to the gathering. She wasn’t looking forward to the trouble ahead. She never got the chance to ask Kayla why she went to the meeting with the leader and never got the needed nap. She rests her head on the moss and is asleep in moments.
+++
As soon as Lynx opens her eyes, she can tell she is in a dream. A thick fog hangs over tall pine trees. A ravine stretches a few fox lengths ahead of her. She twists her head back and comes nose-to-nose with a skeletal she-cat. She backs away from the cat, studying her. She is twice the size of Lynx. The short, brown fur is full of burrs and knots, with a torn ear that flops. Her eyes are like the color of violet flowers, though a little darker in color. Her eyes disturb Lynx. Her muzzle is flecked with dark red splotches. Blood, she guesses.
“Hello, Lynx,” the strange she-cat whispers. The voice sounds like howling wind mixed with a raspy voice. Lynx freezes, staring at the brown she-cat. She doesn’t recognize this cat from anywhere.
“How do you know my name?” Lynx asks, trying not to sound scared. Her voice wobbles a little, though. The she-cat smirks, as if amused by her.
“Puffing up your tail makes you look more like a scared kit,” the stranger observes. Lynx flicks her tail into vision. It trembles a little and the fur is puffed out. She frowns at it, then curls it across her hindlegs.
“Who are you?” Lynx asks, not taking her eyes from her tail.
“Now is not the time for introductions,” the brown cat muses, “but for making deals. You will do what I ask of you.”
“Or what?” Lynx snaps, giving the she-cat glare. No one bosses her around, especially someone from a dream.
“Or I will kill your remaining family,” the stranger sneers.
Lynx pounces on the she-cat, pinning her in place. Her body trembles with fear and anger.
“NO ONE THREATENS MY FAMILY!” she snarls.
The she-cat's face is expressionless, staring at something beyond Lynx. Lynx turns her head. The she-cat shoves her off her with astonishing speed and strength, sending her tumbling across the grass. Before Lynx can turn to her enemy, a large black cat leaps over her. He lets out a deafening roar at the strange she-cat. It reminds Lynx of thunder.
The she-cat stumbles back a few steps, staring dumbstruck at the large tom.
“Go, and I will spare you,” he snarls. The she-cat bolts into the trees, swallowed by the fog.
The giant tom turns to Lynx. His eyes are a deep blue and he bears no scars. He walks over to her, then bends his head. For a terrifying moment, she thinks he is going to bite her head off. However, he picks her up by the scruff, and starts running across the foggy terrain. Lynx wiggles and twists, trying to free herself. After a few tries, she gives up, watching the world go by.
The pine trees start to be more spaced out as the tom carries her away. The fog lifts and she watches a single tree disappear behind them. Ahead of them, a flowing meadow stretches as far as she can see. Large oak trees dot the land here and there. Bubbling streams wind their way in a curved line across small hills.
The tom heads to a large oak tree with a large boulder leaning against it. One cat is pacing by the boulder. A familiar cat. Sparrow stops pacing and sits, watching them.
Knowing Sparrow, she knew he would mock her being treated like a kit, dream or not. She thrashes, throwing her body to the side. She swipes with her claws, trying to hit the giant tom. The large cat drops her when she starts biting at his whiskers.
After rubbing a paw over his muzzle a few times, he glares at Lynx. “It's like you want me to hurt you,” he growls at Lynx.
“Maybe you should start introductions before you throw me around like a mouse,” she snaps.
“You want to know my name?” the black cat asks. “I am Deathstar.” Great, giant black wings appear from his back. He spreads them majestically, blocking out the light.
Lynx inhales sharply. She recognizes that name. She is facing one of the leaders of DawnClan. This isn’t a dream then, she realizes. It's real.
CHAPTER FOUR
Deathstar smiles smugly at Lynx. She wanted to shred that smile to pieces. Deathstar was the one who guided the souls of the dead to their afterlifes, to DawnClan or DuskClan. He is known to hold great power, as is Lifestar.
“You're finally here,” a familiar voice remarks. Lynx whips around. Sparrow sits up, padding over to her. If this is a message from DawnClan, how is he in it? And why? Sparrow stops, probably sensing her anger and confusion. “Why wasn’t she here?”
“That is classified,” Deathstar snips. He walks over to Sparrow, beckoning Lynx with his tail. She rolls her eyes, but walks over to them, sitting between the two toms.
“Lynx, there is much to explain and not much time,” he says. “But do you remember the stories about the Gift of DawnClan?”
“Vaguely.” She remembers parts of the story, about how Lifestar and Deathstar would bless kits with special powers and abilities, in a time of need.
“It starts long ago, when Soulstar was on the rage, killing cats and taking their souls to DuskClan-”
“Wait, this isn’t how I remember it. And who is Soulstar?” Lynx interrupts, earning a glare from Deathstar. Sparrow looks like he is trying hard not to smile.
“I will explain later,” he growls at her. “May I continue?”
Lynx nods, clamping her jaws shut. Nothing wrong with questions, though, her mind grumbles.
“As I was saying, Soulstar was taking souls to DuskClan, gathering an army there. Me and Lifestar decided it would be best to bless certain kits. We trained them when they were old enough, taught them how to use their power, and continued until they were ready.” This is totally different. Stories may change over time, but how could this one lose so many details? Her mind ponders.
“DawnClan had an army, DuskClan had one too. We struck on the day of the Dark Moon. I chose a champion, the strongest one, and I merged with them, giving them more power. Lifestar did the same. Those two champions lead the battle. It was a difficult battle, but in the end we won, chasing the leaders of DuskClan back into their hole. No sign of the DuskClan since now.
Now history must repeat itself. You two are the one I have blessed in your Clan. Your abilities will appear in a time of need. Until then, you can’t know your power. I will appear to you for training or assignments. Your current assignment is to find Little Moth and make her an ally,” Deathstar finishes.
“There is no Little Moth in our clan!” Lynx hisses. Why doesn’t Sparrow agree with me?
“Are you going to let Clan boundaries divide us?” he asks. This is a test. She glares at him for several heartbeats, but ducks her head.
She mumbles, “No.” Surprisingly, Deathstar smiles at her. Sparrow looks bored and tired, swishing his brown tail in the grass.
“That is all for tonight,” Deathstar says. The world tips to the side, and Lynx jolts awake from the dream.
She twists her head to look around. It’s still dark outside, and everyone is asleep. She is surprised, though, that Sparrow’s brown paw is on her shoulder and his tail is nudging her. Hmm.
After a few minutes, she makes an attempt to fall asleep, but questions start flowing through her head like a river.
How will I make Little Moth an ally if she’s outside the Clan? Who is Soulstar? How many leaders are in DuskClan, and who are they? More questions tick in her mind, but one outshines them all.
Did Soulstar kill my mother?
“You're finally here,” a familiar voice remarks. Lynx whips around. Sparrow sits up, padding over to her. If this is a message from DawnClan, how is he in it? And why? Sparrow stops, probably sensing her anger and confusion. “Why wasn’t she here?”
“That is classified,” Deathstar snips. He walks over to Sparrow, beckoning Lynx with his tail. She rolls her eyes, but walks over to them, sitting between the two toms.
“Lynx, there is much to explain and not much time,” he says. “But do you remember the stories about the Gift of DawnClan?”
“Vaguely.” She remembers parts of the story, about how Lifestar and Deathstar would bless kits with special powers and abilities, in a time of need.
“It starts long ago, when Soulstar was on the rage, killing cats and taking their souls to DuskClan-”
“Wait, this isn’t how I remember it. And who is Soulstar?” Lynx interrupts, earning a glare from Deathstar. Sparrow looks like he is trying hard not to smile.
“I will explain later,” he growls at her. “May I continue?”
Lynx nods, clamping her jaws shut. Nothing wrong with questions, though, her mind grumbles.
“As I was saying, Soulstar was taking souls to DuskClan, gathering an army there. Me and Lifestar decided it would be best to bless certain kits. We trained them when they were old enough, taught them how to use their power, and continued until they were ready.” This is totally different. Stories may change over time, but how could this one lose so many details? Her mind ponders.
“DawnClan had an army, DuskClan had one too. We struck on the day of the Dark Moon. I chose a champion, the strongest one, and I merged with them, giving them more power. Lifestar did the same. Those two champions lead the battle. It was a difficult battle, but in the end we won, chasing the leaders of DuskClan back into their hole. No sign of the DuskClan since now.
Now history must repeat itself. You two are the one I have blessed in your Clan. Your abilities will appear in a time of need. Until then, you can’t know your power. I will appear to you for training or assignments. Your current assignment is to find Little Moth and make her an ally,” Deathstar finishes.
“There is no Little Moth in our clan!” Lynx hisses. Why doesn’t Sparrow agree with me?
“Are you going to let Clan boundaries divide us?” he asks. This is a test. She glares at him for several heartbeats, but ducks her head.
She mumbles, “No.” Surprisingly, Deathstar smiles at her. Sparrow looks bored and tired, swishing his brown tail in the grass.
“That is all for tonight,” Deathstar says. The world tips to the side, and Lynx jolts awake from the dream.
She twists her head to look around. It’s still dark outside, and everyone is asleep. She is surprised, though, that Sparrow’s brown paw is on her shoulder and his tail is nudging her. Hmm.
After a few minutes, she makes an attempt to fall asleep, but questions start flowing through her head like a river.
How will I make Little Moth an ally if she’s outside the Clan? Who is Soulstar? How many leaders are in DuskClan, and who are they? More questions tick in her mind, but one outshines them all.
Did Soulstar kill my mother?
CHAPTER FIVE
Lynx had somehow managed to fall back to sleep, but the dreams were unsettling. She was alone in her dream. Thick, gray fog had pressed around her as she stumbled to her mother’s voice, but she never found her.
Morning came too early. Pale light streams down through gaps in the woven reeds. Only Sparrow and Ice are in the den. Sparrow is curled away from her, in a tight ball. His brown paws twitch in his sleep, as if fighting an enemy. Maybe he is training with Deathstar, Lynx ponders. She shakes her head, as if trying to get rid of the idea. It was just a dream. If they wanted to send a message, they would to our medicine cat or leader. Surely not two inexperienced apprentices. She pads out of the den, stretching one leg at a time. She drags her paws to the prey pile, picks up a shrew, and walks back to the other apprentices. Raging River is sharing a squirrel with Rain Cloud in the shade of the den, while River Mud basks in the sun.
As Lynx digs into her meal, Sparrow slinks out of the reeds. His fur is untidy and has several knots. After a ginormous yawn, he slips into the Refuge. A few moments later, he slips out, his jaws filled with fragrant herbs. He locks his eyes on hers, then nods his head to the brambles. Fine. But if he grumbles at me, he's getting another shredded ear, Lynx’s mind growls. She picks her shrew up, leaping over to him.
“Was it real?” she blurts through the fresh-kill when she sits beside him.
Sparrow narrows his green eyes at her. “Why am I not surprised? Then again, I asked myself that too,” he mutters. “Yes, it was real.”
Lynx eats her shrew in silence, thinking. After she licked the last bits of shrew from her muzzle, she asks, “So we have to find this Little Moth?”
Sparrow nods, chewing on his leafy meal.
“Do you have any idea where we can find her?”
“No. We might as well do patrols. If we’re lucky, we might run into her,” he suggests, taking another bite of herbs.
“Maybe,” Lynx replies doubtfully. “We don’t even know what Clan she could be in.”
“Well if you have any better ideas, let me know,” he snaps. Anger bursts inside Lynx’s chest.
She leaps up, snarls, “Why do you always need to be like this?” She races out of the camp, leaving a bewildered Sparrow and his half-eaten meal.
The bright light of sunhigh shone down as Lynx pads back into the Clan. Her fur is dripping from her swim across the river and clamped in her jaws is a large, silver fish, her last catch from hunting. She jumps out of the way of two kits wrestling. A gray queen watches them, purring with pleasure. Rain Cloud is padding across the camp with her jaws filled with herbs. Lynx can hear cats from behind her. The morning patrol emerges from the thick, woven cattails and cattails of the entrance tunnel. Among them is Sparrow and Morning Dew.
The deputy leaps into two lopsided rocks in the center of the camp. The rocks have a large, dark gap in between. The space in between the rocks serve as the entrance to the tunnel to the leader’s den. Lynx narrows her eyes at the gray she-cat. It isn’t unusual for the deputy to report a patrol, but still. Morning Dew seemed… Eager. Lynx sends a puzzled look at Sparrow. His brown ears flicked with annoyance, but he trots over to the corner where they had talked earlier.
As soon as she laid down, he started, “Look, about earlier, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” Lynx nods in acknowledgement.
“What happened on the patrol?” she asks.
“My mentor asked me to come so--” he began, looking slightly flustered.
“No, no, no. Were you attacked by cats? Did you find any sign of rouges?” she interrupts impatiently.
Sparrow’s tail flicked back and forth in frustration, but he continued. “We found strong scents of StormClan.”
“What’s unusual about that?” she asks, thinking. FrostClan shares territory with StormClan and SnowClan, so why would it be something to fret over because of scent markers?
He wrinkles his nose as he meows, “It was like an entire patrol had overdone the scent markers. Every tree and bush was marked on the border, all with the scent of StormClan.”
“You don’t think they will try claiming our territory, do you?” she asks hesitantly. If there was a battle, lives could be lost. No cat was expendable.
He snorts. “It doesn’t matter what I think, only Morning Dew.”
“Well, at least I might run into Little Moth tonight,” she adds hopefully.
Sparrow tilts his head in puzzlement. “At the Gathering tonight,” she reminds him.
Before Sparrow can reply, a voice calls, “Hey, you two! Get over here and be useful!” It is Raging Fire, a large, bright ginger tom. He’s known for his skill, strength, and short temper. As the two apprentices pad back to the camp entrance, Raging Fire’s green eyes are glimmering with interest.
“If you two are done gossiping, you can clean the elders. Bright Moon was complaining about her bedding and Bright Star has a few ticks. It's nice to see you, Sparrow, up and about though,” he adds. Sparrow ducks his head, scuffling the ground in embarrassment.
“These two have been working all day. Let them rest,” a voice behind them meows. Lynx turns to see her father and mentor, Withering Leaf padding toward them. He looks quite similar to her, with the same light brown pelt, darker brown paws, and tufted ears. The only difference is that he is the largest tom in the Clan, while Lynx is still called a kit because of her size. “Send some of the others,” her father advises, sitting beside Lynx.
“Very well,” Raging Fire meows, sounding slightly deflated. “I guess Raging River can handle the elder. Meanwhile, I want you two to train together. Come back at sunset so you can go to the Gathering, Lynx.”
“Can we train together soon, like we used to?” Sparrow asks his mentor, excitement lighting up his face. Lynx hasn’t seen him look happy since he was attacked.
Raging Fire winced. Pain and sadness edged his voice as he spoke, “Morning Dew told me not to unless you show you can still perform warrior duties.”
Sparrow stumbles away from his mentor, swaying from side to side. The look of pain, anger, and hatred that blazes in his eyes makes Lynx flinch. Withering Leaf eyes Sparrow warily, flicking his long, dark brown tail over Lynx’s paws.
Sparrow drops into a crouch, his lips drawn back to reveal sharp, white teeth, his ears flat against his head. The light of battle shines in his eyes, mixed with fury. Lynx gasps, shocked. He wouldn’t attack his ment- Her train of thought is broken as Sparrow lunges at Raging Fire with a yowl of rage, claws unsheathed.
Raging Fire swipes a blow at the young cat’s head, sending him crashing into a patch of reeds. Before Sparrow can recover, Raging Fire dashes over to him, pinning him to the ground. Raging Fire bends his head to Sparrow’s shredded ear, whispers, “I don’t want to harm you, but you can make it quite difficult.” Sparrow growls at Raging Fire, trying to thrust himself up but fails. He glares at his mentor. “Listen to me. Try hard. Train. Prove our deputy you can be the best apprentice,” Raging Fire whispers encouragingly. The ginger warrior backs away from Sparrow, freeing him. Sparrow glares at his mentor but the light of battle has died from his eyes and his brown fur has gathered into muddy clumps.
Lynx breaks her gaze from the two toms and realizes a crowd had gathered around the fight. Sparrow pads away, his wet tail drooping and his head ducked, avoiding the stares. When the tip of his brown tail had disappeared into the apprentice’s den, the crowd broke apart. Her father gave her a comforting lick on the ear, then pads to Morning Dew. She is standing by the entrance to the leader’s den. The look in her eyes gave Lynx shivers. It was a wondering look; even a little excitement was hidden in those cold, light green eyes.
Morning came too early. Pale light streams down through gaps in the woven reeds. Only Sparrow and Ice are in the den. Sparrow is curled away from her, in a tight ball. His brown paws twitch in his sleep, as if fighting an enemy. Maybe he is training with Deathstar, Lynx ponders. She shakes her head, as if trying to get rid of the idea. It was just a dream. If they wanted to send a message, they would to our medicine cat or leader. Surely not two inexperienced apprentices. She pads out of the den, stretching one leg at a time. She drags her paws to the prey pile, picks up a shrew, and walks back to the other apprentices. Raging River is sharing a squirrel with Rain Cloud in the shade of the den, while River Mud basks in the sun.
As Lynx digs into her meal, Sparrow slinks out of the reeds. His fur is untidy and has several knots. After a ginormous yawn, he slips into the Refuge. A few moments later, he slips out, his jaws filled with fragrant herbs. He locks his eyes on hers, then nods his head to the brambles. Fine. But if he grumbles at me, he's getting another shredded ear, Lynx’s mind growls. She picks her shrew up, leaping over to him.
“Was it real?” she blurts through the fresh-kill when she sits beside him.
Sparrow narrows his green eyes at her. “Why am I not surprised? Then again, I asked myself that too,” he mutters. “Yes, it was real.”
Lynx eats her shrew in silence, thinking. After she licked the last bits of shrew from her muzzle, she asks, “So we have to find this Little Moth?”
Sparrow nods, chewing on his leafy meal.
“Do you have any idea where we can find her?”
“No. We might as well do patrols. If we’re lucky, we might run into her,” he suggests, taking another bite of herbs.
“Maybe,” Lynx replies doubtfully. “We don’t even know what Clan she could be in.”
“Well if you have any better ideas, let me know,” he snaps. Anger bursts inside Lynx’s chest.
She leaps up, snarls, “Why do you always need to be like this?” She races out of the camp, leaving a bewildered Sparrow and his half-eaten meal.
+++
The bright light of sunhigh shone down as Lynx pads back into the Clan. Her fur is dripping from her swim across the river and clamped in her jaws is a large, silver fish, her last catch from hunting. She jumps out of the way of two kits wrestling. A gray queen watches them, purring with pleasure. Rain Cloud is padding across the camp with her jaws filled with herbs. Lynx can hear cats from behind her. The morning patrol emerges from the thick, woven cattails and cattails of the entrance tunnel. Among them is Sparrow and Morning Dew.
The deputy leaps into two lopsided rocks in the center of the camp. The rocks have a large, dark gap in between. The space in between the rocks serve as the entrance to the tunnel to the leader’s den. Lynx narrows her eyes at the gray she-cat. It isn’t unusual for the deputy to report a patrol, but still. Morning Dew seemed… Eager. Lynx sends a puzzled look at Sparrow. His brown ears flicked with annoyance, but he trots over to the corner where they had talked earlier.
As soon as she laid down, he started, “Look, about earlier, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” Lynx nods in acknowledgement.
“What happened on the patrol?” she asks.
“My mentor asked me to come so--” he began, looking slightly flustered.
“No, no, no. Were you attacked by cats? Did you find any sign of rouges?” she interrupts impatiently.
Sparrow’s tail flicked back and forth in frustration, but he continued. “We found strong scents of StormClan.”
“What’s unusual about that?” she asks, thinking. FrostClan shares territory with StormClan and SnowClan, so why would it be something to fret over because of scent markers?
He wrinkles his nose as he meows, “It was like an entire patrol had overdone the scent markers. Every tree and bush was marked on the border, all with the scent of StormClan.”
“You don’t think they will try claiming our territory, do you?” she asks hesitantly. If there was a battle, lives could be lost. No cat was expendable.
He snorts. “It doesn’t matter what I think, only Morning Dew.”
“Well, at least I might run into Little Moth tonight,” she adds hopefully.
Sparrow tilts his head in puzzlement. “At the Gathering tonight,” she reminds him.
Before Sparrow can reply, a voice calls, “Hey, you two! Get over here and be useful!” It is Raging Fire, a large, bright ginger tom. He’s known for his skill, strength, and short temper. As the two apprentices pad back to the camp entrance, Raging Fire’s green eyes are glimmering with interest.
“If you two are done gossiping, you can clean the elders. Bright Moon was complaining about her bedding and Bright Star has a few ticks. It's nice to see you, Sparrow, up and about though,” he adds. Sparrow ducks his head, scuffling the ground in embarrassment.
“These two have been working all day. Let them rest,” a voice behind them meows. Lynx turns to see her father and mentor, Withering Leaf padding toward them. He looks quite similar to her, with the same light brown pelt, darker brown paws, and tufted ears. The only difference is that he is the largest tom in the Clan, while Lynx is still called a kit because of her size. “Send some of the others,” her father advises, sitting beside Lynx.
“Very well,” Raging Fire meows, sounding slightly deflated. “I guess Raging River can handle the elder. Meanwhile, I want you two to train together. Come back at sunset so you can go to the Gathering, Lynx.”
“Can we train together soon, like we used to?” Sparrow asks his mentor, excitement lighting up his face. Lynx hasn’t seen him look happy since he was attacked.
Raging Fire winced. Pain and sadness edged his voice as he spoke, “Morning Dew told me not to unless you show you can still perform warrior duties.”
Sparrow stumbles away from his mentor, swaying from side to side. The look of pain, anger, and hatred that blazes in his eyes makes Lynx flinch. Withering Leaf eyes Sparrow warily, flicking his long, dark brown tail over Lynx’s paws.
Sparrow drops into a crouch, his lips drawn back to reveal sharp, white teeth, his ears flat against his head. The light of battle shines in his eyes, mixed with fury. Lynx gasps, shocked. He wouldn’t attack his ment- Her train of thought is broken as Sparrow lunges at Raging Fire with a yowl of rage, claws unsheathed.
Raging Fire swipes a blow at the young cat’s head, sending him crashing into a patch of reeds. Before Sparrow can recover, Raging Fire dashes over to him, pinning him to the ground. Raging Fire bends his head to Sparrow’s shredded ear, whispers, “I don’t want to harm you, but you can make it quite difficult.” Sparrow growls at Raging Fire, trying to thrust himself up but fails. He glares at his mentor. “Listen to me. Try hard. Train. Prove our deputy you can be the best apprentice,” Raging Fire whispers encouragingly. The ginger warrior backs away from Sparrow, freeing him. Sparrow glares at his mentor but the light of battle has died from his eyes and his brown fur has gathered into muddy clumps.
Lynx breaks her gaze from the two toms and realizes a crowd had gathered around the fight. Sparrow pads away, his wet tail drooping and his head ducked, avoiding the stares. When the tip of his brown tail had disappeared into the apprentice’s den, the crowd broke apart. Her father gave her a comforting lick on the ear, then pads to Morning Dew. She is standing by the entrance to the leader’s den. The look in her eyes gave Lynx shivers. It was a wondering look; even a little excitement was hidden in those cold, light green eyes.
CHAPTER SIX
Lynx crouchez under the brambles, its thorns snagging and tugging at her fur. Her brothers are right beside her, Shining Frost cursing at the thorns while River Muds tail twitches in excitement. Several cats are crouched under ferns or the bushes, with Windstar in the lead. He sits at the top of the steep hill. His yellow eyes darted back and forth, watching the cats that had come for the Gathering.
The Gathering took place at Crushed Moon, a large clearing with broken rocks and boulders that gleamed pale in the moonlight. In the center of the clearing was the Silver Fang, a large, jagged rock that gleamed pale gray in the moonlight. The leaders of the Clans stood on the Silver Fang to address their Clanmates below. At Gatherings, a truce lasted among the Clans for one night at the full moon. Lynx had seen Crushed Moon at day and from a distance, but this was her first Gathering.
Windstar sat up, then leaped down the slope with a summoning yowl. Wait no! All the FrostClan cats charged forward, almost trampling Fierce Lynx and her siblings. As she stumbled down the slope, movement caught her eye. She swung her head sharply but saw nothing. Is something watching us? Or someone? When she reached the bottom of the slope, she gasped, forgetting about the shadowy figure. Crushed Moon is as beautiful as she had heard and many cats mill around the boulders. Too many cats, she thought, nervously backing away from the mass of cats. The jumbled scents of these cats makes her head hurt.
Up ahead, in the moonlit clearing, River Mud turns in a frantic circle, looking for her. His eyes find hers, the yellow depths filled with a deep understanding. He smiles encouragingly at her, beckoning her with his tail. Balling up her anxieties and fears and squashing them flat, she pads over to him, trying to pull a bored expression. Side by side, they walk over to a group of apprentices talking by a pile of boulders.
A dark gray tom laying on a flat side of a boulder laughs with a small brown she-cat in a gap underneath the stones. The she-cat turns toward Fierce Lynx, her head cocked curiously. Lynx stifles a gasp of surprise. The small brown she-cat has strange eyes; one is a frosty blue and the other is a deep amber. Unexpectedly, the stranger bursts into giggles. However, the large gray tom frowns at Lynx.
“Your...face!” she mews through her laughing. Lynx realizes that her eyes are wide in shock and her mouth is slightly open. She tries to pull the bored expression over her face again, but it only makes the she-cat laugh harder, so Lynx settles with a scowl. Now you can’t make fun of THIS face. It's perfectly scowling right at YOU!
“I get those looks a lot,” the she-cat sighs after she regains her breath, looking at her paws. She looks very sad all of the sudden. “Everyone thinks I’m weird.”
“No, you’re not!” the gray tom yowls fiercely, leaping down the rocks to the she-cat. He makes his eyes level with hers, and murmurs, “You’re not weird, you're pretty…pretty cool.” Lynx is certain that he meant to say something different, and turns to Mud to ask. But his head is cocked in curiosity, his eyes filled with the look he got when he was a kit, the I-want-to-eavesdrop look. Lynx realizes those words were not for her ears.
The she-cat lets out a purr of pleasure, burying her muzzle into his chest. The tom looks pleased, then stands up. He turns to the FrostClan apprentices, lifting his head regally, with an unimpressed look painted over his face, much different from the affection that was shining in his eyes a moment before. “I am Clouded Sky. This is Little Moth, my best friend.”
The Gathering took place at Crushed Moon, a large clearing with broken rocks and boulders that gleamed pale in the moonlight. In the center of the clearing was the Silver Fang, a large, jagged rock that gleamed pale gray in the moonlight. The leaders of the Clans stood on the Silver Fang to address their Clanmates below. At Gatherings, a truce lasted among the Clans for one night at the full moon. Lynx had seen Crushed Moon at day and from a distance, but this was her first Gathering.
Windstar sat up, then leaped down the slope with a summoning yowl. Wait no! All the FrostClan cats charged forward, almost trampling Fierce Lynx and her siblings. As she stumbled down the slope, movement caught her eye. She swung her head sharply but saw nothing. Is something watching us? Or someone? When she reached the bottom of the slope, she gasped, forgetting about the shadowy figure. Crushed Moon is as beautiful as she had heard and many cats mill around the boulders. Too many cats, she thought, nervously backing away from the mass of cats. The jumbled scents of these cats makes her head hurt.
Up ahead, in the moonlit clearing, River Mud turns in a frantic circle, looking for her. His eyes find hers, the yellow depths filled with a deep understanding. He smiles encouragingly at her, beckoning her with his tail. Balling up her anxieties and fears and squashing them flat, she pads over to him, trying to pull a bored expression. Side by side, they walk over to a group of apprentices talking by a pile of boulders.
A dark gray tom laying on a flat side of a boulder laughs with a small brown she-cat in a gap underneath the stones. The she-cat turns toward Fierce Lynx, her head cocked curiously. Lynx stifles a gasp of surprise. The small brown she-cat has strange eyes; one is a frosty blue and the other is a deep amber. Unexpectedly, the stranger bursts into giggles. However, the large gray tom frowns at Lynx.
“Your...face!” she mews through her laughing. Lynx realizes that her eyes are wide in shock and her mouth is slightly open. She tries to pull the bored expression over her face again, but it only makes the she-cat laugh harder, so Lynx settles with a scowl. Now you can’t make fun of THIS face. It's perfectly scowling right at YOU!
“I get those looks a lot,” the she-cat sighs after she regains her breath, looking at her paws. She looks very sad all of the sudden. “Everyone thinks I’m weird.”
“No, you’re not!” the gray tom yowls fiercely, leaping down the rocks to the she-cat. He makes his eyes level with hers, and murmurs, “You’re not weird, you're pretty…pretty cool.” Lynx is certain that he meant to say something different, and turns to Mud to ask. But his head is cocked in curiosity, his eyes filled with the look he got when he was a kit, the I-want-to-eavesdrop look. Lynx realizes those words were not for her ears.
The she-cat lets out a purr of pleasure, burying her muzzle into his chest. The tom looks pleased, then stands up. He turns to the FrostClan apprentices, lifting his head regally, with an unimpressed look painted over his face, much different from the affection that was shining in his eyes a moment before. “I am Clouded Sky. This is Little Moth, my best friend.”
PART TWO
CHAPTER SEVEN
Before Lynx can respond, a yowl resonates around the rocky clearing. Sky and Little Moth race to Silver Fang, where a large crowd is gathering around the large rock. Mud chases after them, hollering, “Wait for me!” Lynx, however, pads forward hesitantly, remembering the meeting from yesterday. I will propose at the next gathering that the Clans will come there… What are we going to do, Skystar? A bush rustles behind her. Lynx whips her head back. She swears she saw brown fur. Probably the wind. Just the wind.
The four great leaders sit on top of the Silver Fang. Windstar, Lynx’s leader, was standing at the tip of the rock. In the moonlight, he looks like a DawnClan cat, made of moonlight. Behind him is Blizzardstar, the leader of IceClan, the oldest leader and the wisest. Her body lays flat on the rock, as if sitting is too exertion for her frail body. Her gray pelt blends into the stone as she looks at the moon. Stormstar and Sleetstar sit behind the other leaders, exchanging words. Stormstar leads HailClan. He is the least experienced leader and arrogant, according to a few warriors. His amber gaze travels over the crowd and his black pelt blends into the near shadows. Sleetstar has dark brown tabby fur and gentle green eyes. Sleetstar is kind and gentle, but, when he has to be, a fierce opponent.
Lynx tries to find her brothers or Little Moth, but can’t see anything beyond the tangles of fur and her nose is useless. She sighs, giving up on the search. Instead, she listens to the leaders. Whatever goes down, this will be the most important event in my life. Most of the other leaders' reports are very similar, consisting of new litters, apprentices, and warriors. However, they also report missing and dead cats, which send a chill down her spine. How much longer would we survive here if we stay?
When Windstar steps forward, Lynx strains her ears. “Cats of all Clans, listen to my words!” he yowls. “You have lost many of your Clanmates, friends, maybe even kin. There is a monster lurking in the forest. We will not survive if we stay here!”
“What are you suggesting?” Blizzardstar croaks, from behind him. The other leaders are looking intently at Windstar as he explains, “I am suggesting that the other Clans move to our moor.”
The effect is immediate. Yowls of anger and shock arise from the crowd.
“Why should we go there?”
“Won’t the monster follow us?”
“Why did you not discuss this with the rest of your clan?” Blazing Fire yowls to her left, his voice lined with betrayment.
The leaders yowl several times, silencing the crowd. However, a few murmurs of unease still surface from the crowd.
“And why should we go with you? Won’t this monster follow us?” Sleetstar asks quietly from the shadows, his voice expressionless.
“I have reasons to say it won’t,” Windstar replies simply.
“And what are those reasons exactly?” Stormstar hisses, shoving Sleetstar out of his way as he pads toward Windstar. “Do you even have proof?” he growls behind Windstar.
“Actually, I do. I have something even better! A survivor.” As if on cue, Sparrow slinks out of a patch of bushes in the clearing. He must have been the one in the bushes! He turns his scarred head to the crowd, his torn ear flopping pathetically. Several gasps of horror and shock explode across the clearing at the sight, as well as a few whispers of wonder. I narrow my eyes at Sparrow. I can see his fury at these cats behind his stone face. Hadn’t he told me that he wasn’t coming? Why is he here? Lynx answers her question immediately. Windstar must have thought others wouldn’t believe him without evidence. Well, we have evidence all right.
Windstar nods his head to the rock, beckoning Sparrow to stand beside him. Stormstar hisses under his breath as he backs away from Windstar, letting Sparrow take his place. Lynx can’t help noticing that Sparrow nudges Stormstar on his way, just hard enough it may have been on purpose but can easily be denied. Stormstar sneers at him, muttering something. Sparrow ignores him, padding right beside Windstar.
Windstar murmurs something in Sparrow’s ear. Sparrow nods reluctantly, and yowls, “I have gathered information after my experience with this monster.” He spits out experience with all of the anger and hatred that Lynx knows is gathered in him. “They are weak against light, afraid of it actually. They are also fast and powerful and almost impossible to hit.”
“How did you survive from it then?” asks Stormstar mockingly from behind him.
Sparrow turns his head, glaring at the dark leader. “I almost didn’t. I had stumbled into a shaft of sunlight in the woods. It refused to enter the circle of light. The creature got bored and left me,” Sparrow replies stiffly. Lynx can tell by the way his whiskers tremble and how his ears twitch that he is bursting with anger. He isn’t a bad liar. I didn’t know he could control himself that well either, she remarks quietly. However, Stormstar isn’t subdued by this.
“So your only proof is a cat from your own tribe?” he sneers. Windstar seems to be losing his patience with the stubborn leader. His ears are flat against his head, his fur bristling, and tail lashing. However, Blizzardstar intervenes before Windstar snaps.
“We all have felt the loss these dark beings have planted in us. Your intentions are pure, Windstar.” He ducks his head in respect of the old leader. “I have been on your moor before. It extends very well past your borders. Has plenty of room. However, we will need more camps if we decide to move.” A few cats from the crowd meow their agreement. “And I know that I would rather spend my days fighting than running.” This time, several cats yowl their defiance. Lynx finds herself yowling as well.
“But if this continues, we won’t have Clans.” Sleetstar pad forward. His voice is quiet, still harboring the same expressionless tone. “I think we must find a space in the middle.” Windstar and Stormstar eyes glimmer with puzzlement. “If this continues, then we will run. Like you suggested.” Sleetstar flicks his at Windstar, who straightens up and lifts his head. “For now, we must fight for our Clans! For our homes, for our clans, for our kin. For vengeance!” His quiet mews have turned into a rallying cry. It seems like every cat in the crowd howls. But Lynx is silent.
The smug, defiant Stormstar glares at a cat behind the leaders, at Sparrow, who is silent as well. The look of hatred that shines in the eyes of the black leader sends chills down her spine.
The four great leaders sit on top of the Silver Fang. Windstar, Lynx’s leader, was standing at the tip of the rock. In the moonlight, he looks like a DawnClan cat, made of moonlight. Behind him is Blizzardstar, the leader of IceClan, the oldest leader and the wisest. Her body lays flat on the rock, as if sitting is too exertion for her frail body. Her gray pelt blends into the stone as she looks at the moon. Stormstar and Sleetstar sit behind the other leaders, exchanging words. Stormstar leads HailClan. He is the least experienced leader and arrogant, according to a few warriors. His amber gaze travels over the crowd and his black pelt blends into the near shadows. Sleetstar has dark brown tabby fur and gentle green eyes. Sleetstar is kind and gentle, but, when he has to be, a fierce opponent.
Lynx tries to find her brothers or Little Moth, but can’t see anything beyond the tangles of fur and her nose is useless. She sighs, giving up on the search. Instead, she listens to the leaders. Whatever goes down, this will be the most important event in my life. Most of the other leaders' reports are very similar, consisting of new litters, apprentices, and warriors. However, they also report missing and dead cats, which send a chill down her spine. How much longer would we survive here if we stay?
When Windstar steps forward, Lynx strains her ears. “Cats of all Clans, listen to my words!” he yowls. “You have lost many of your Clanmates, friends, maybe even kin. There is a monster lurking in the forest. We will not survive if we stay here!”
“What are you suggesting?” Blizzardstar croaks, from behind him. The other leaders are looking intently at Windstar as he explains, “I am suggesting that the other Clans move to our moor.”
The effect is immediate. Yowls of anger and shock arise from the crowd.
“Why should we go there?”
“Won’t the monster follow us?”
“Why did you not discuss this with the rest of your clan?” Blazing Fire yowls to her left, his voice lined with betrayment.
The leaders yowl several times, silencing the crowd. However, a few murmurs of unease still surface from the crowd.
“And why should we go with you? Won’t this monster follow us?” Sleetstar asks quietly from the shadows, his voice expressionless.
“I have reasons to say it won’t,” Windstar replies simply.
“And what are those reasons exactly?” Stormstar hisses, shoving Sleetstar out of his way as he pads toward Windstar. “Do you even have proof?” he growls behind Windstar.
“Actually, I do. I have something even better! A survivor.” As if on cue, Sparrow slinks out of a patch of bushes in the clearing. He must have been the one in the bushes! He turns his scarred head to the crowd, his torn ear flopping pathetically. Several gasps of horror and shock explode across the clearing at the sight, as well as a few whispers of wonder. I narrow my eyes at Sparrow. I can see his fury at these cats behind his stone face. Hadn’t he told me that he wasn’t coming? Why is he here? Lynx answers her question immediately. Windstar must have thought others wouldn’t believe him without evidence. Well, we have evidence all right.
Windstar nods his head to the rock, beckoning Sparrow to stand beside him. Stormstar hisses under his breath as he backs away from Windstar, letting Sparrow take his place. Lynx can’t help noticing that Sparrow nudges Stormstar on his way, just hard enough it may have been on purpose but can easily be denied. Stormstar sneers at him, muttering something. Sparrow ignores him, padding right beside Windstar.
Windstar murmurs something in Sparrow’s ear. Sparrow nods reluctantly, and yowls, “I have gathered information after my experience with this monster.” He spits out experience with all of the anger and hatred that Lynx knows is gathered in him. “They are weak against light, afraid of it actually. They are also fast and powerful and almost impossible to hit.”
“How did you survive from it then?” asks Stormstar mockingly from behind him.
Sparrow turns his head, glaring at the dark leader. “I almost didn’t. I had stumbled into a shaft of sunlight in the woods. It refused to enter the circle of light. The creature got bored and left me,” Sparrow replies stiffly. Lynx can tell by the way his whiskers tremble and how his ears twitch that he is bursting with anger. He isn’t a bad liar. I didn’t know he could control himself that well either, she remarks quietly. However, Stormstar isn’t subdued by this.
“So your only proof is a cat from your own tribe?” he sneers. Windstar seems to be losing his patience with the stubborn leader. His ears are flat against his head, his fur bristling, and tail lashing. However, Blizzardstar intervenes before Windstar snaps.
“We all have felt the loss these dark beings have planted in us. Your intentions are pure, Windstar.” He ducks his head in respect of the old leader. “I have been on your moor before. It extends very well past your borders. Has plenty of room. However, we will need more camps if we decide to move.” A few cats from the crowd meow their agreement. “And I know that I would rather spend my days fighting than running.” This time, several cats yowl their defiance. Lynx finds herself yowling as well.
“But if this continues, we won’t have Clans.” Sleetstar pad forward. His voice is quiet, still harboring the same expressionless tone. “I think we must find a space in the middle.” Windstar and Stormstar eyes glimmer with puzzlement. “If this continues, then we will run. Like you suggested.” Sleetstar flicks his at Windstar, who straightens up and lifts his head. “For now, we must fight for our Clans! For our homes, for our clans, for our kin. For vengeance!” His quiet mews have turned into a rallying cry. It seems like every cat in the crowd howls. But Lynx is silent.
The smug, defiant Stormstar glares at a cat behind the leaders, at Sparrow, who is silent as well. The look of hatred that shines in the eyes of the black leader sends chills down her spine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When the Gathering ends, all the cats follow their leaders out of the rocks. Lynx doesn’t think she is imagining the hostile glares and growls coming from the other Clans. One of them pushes her aside, snarling, “Out of my way, fox dung!” Lynx wants to shred his ears off. I can probably get away with it, right? The Gathering has ended. But the hostile cat slinks away, lost in the sea of fur. Lynx tries to find Little Moth or her friend, Clouded Sky. However, Lynx cannot find them. She sighs, then pads up to her brothers, who are talking about the Gathering.
“I can’t believe how Windstar didn’t even tell us what he was going to say,” exclaims River Mud, his eyes wide in shock.
“How can we trust our leader?” Shining Ice growls. Mud shushes him. Lynx rolls her eyes. The whole Clan must be thinking about that. The whole Clan… Lynx wants to yowl her worries. When they get back to camp, the whole place will be in an uproar. What will they do? Will we still follow our leader? Or will the Clan take Morning Dew as our leader?
Lynx stumbles across a stray rock.
“Watch where you’re going,” a cat says flatly beside her. She feels sharp teeth, digging into her scruff, hauling her to her paws. She turns to see who helped her. Oh great. Sparrow is who had picked her up. She wipes the emotion from her face and voice.
“Thanks,” she replies with the same flat tone. She ducks her head, avoiding his piercing eyes. She stays silent the entire way back to camp. So does Sparrow.
When they arrive, cats break from the pack, toward their friends to gossip and share the events that have happened. Lynx heads to her nest, passing the rest of the apprentices who are hovering around the fresh-kill pile, gossiping. Lynx ignores their request to join them, plopping into her nest. She’s asleep in moments.
When she opens her eyes, she is greeted by a white she-cat standing in front of her. Her green eyes are warm and friendly, and her snow-white wings are folded. Lynx can hardly see them. The feathers are almost transparent, like they are woven from moon beams. Lynx realizes she is laying on soft grass. She sits up, ducking her head respectfully.
“Hello, Lifestar,” Lynx meows quietly. She hears a soft purr curl from the white cat’s throat.
“Don't be afraid.” Lifestar nudges Lynx’s shoulder with her tail. Lynx raises her head up. Lynx is back in the same meadow she met with Sparrow and Deathstar. But there is no sign of the two toms at all. “Come. I have something to show you,” she meows to Lynx. Lifestar sprints through the tall grass, leaving Lynx crashing after her.
Lynx chases after her until, when she thinks she can’t go any farther, almost slips into a wide river. Lynx yowls with shock, skidding across the smooth pebbles. She crashes at the foot of a large smooth rock. Lynx hisses at the gushing water, then licks her ruffled fur, trying to appear dignified.
She flicks her ears toward a soft rustling sound. Looking up, she sees Lifestar beckoning to something Lynx can’t see. “It's safe. You can come out,” she mews softly. Then Lynx sees a small, brown paw pick its way through the tall grass. Lynx checks the air. A familiar scent drifts toward her nose, but Lynx can’t figure out who it is. Another paw emerges from the dense greenery. Then a head.
And there is no forgetting those blue and amber eyes that gleam with recognition when they catch sight of Lynx.
“I can’t believe how Windstar didn’t even tell us what he was going to say,” exclaims River Mud, his eyes wide in shock.
“How can we trust our leader?” Shining Ice growls. Mud shushes him. Lynx rolls her eyes. The whole Clan must be thinking about that. The whole Clan… Lynx wants to yowl her worries. When they get back to camp, the whole place will be in an uproar. What will they do? Will we still follow our leader? Or will the Clan take Morning Dew as our leader?
Lynx stumbles across a stray rock.
“Watch where you’re going,” a cat says flatly beside her. She feels sharp teeth, digging into her scruff, hauling her to her paws. She turns to see who helped her. Oh great. Sparrow is who had picked her up. She wipes the emotion from her face and voice.
“Thanks,” she replies with the same flat tone. She ducks her head, avoiding his piercing eyes. She stays silent the entire way back to camp. So does Sparrow.
+++
When they arrive, cats break from the pack, toward their friends to gossip and share the events that have happened. Lynx heads to her nest, passing the rest of the apprentices who are hovering around the fresh-kill pile, gossiping. Lynx ignores their request to join them, plopping into her nest. She’s asleep in moments.
When she opens her eyes, she is greeted by a white she-cat standing in front of her. Her green eyes are warm and friendly, and her snow-white wings are folded. Lynx can hardly see them. The feathers are almost transparent, like they are woven from moon beams. Lynx realizes she is laying on soft grass. She sits up, ducking her head respectfully.
“Hello, Lifestar,” Lynx meows quietly. She hears a soft purr curl from the white cat’s throat.
“Don't be afraid.” Lifestar nudges Lynx’s shoulder with her tail. Lynx raises her head up. Lynx is back in the same meadow she met with Sparrow and Deathstar. But there is no sign of the two toms at all. “Come. I have something to show you,” she meows to Lynx. Lifestar sprints through the tall grass, leaving Lynx crashing after her.
Lynx chases after her until, when she thinks she can’t go any farther, almost slips into a wide river. Lynx yowls with shock, skidding across the smooth pebbles. She crashes at the foot of a large smooth rock. Lynx hisses at the gushing water, then licks her ruffled fur, trying to appear dignified.
She flicks her ears toward a soft rustling sound. Looking up, she sees Lifestar beckoning to something Lynx can’t see. “It's safe. You can come out,” she mews softly. Then Lynx sees a small, brown paw pick its way through the tall grass. Lynx checks the air. A familiar scent drifts toward her nose, but Lynx can’t figure out who it is. Another paw emerges from the dense greenery. Then a head.
And there is no forgetting those blue and amber eyes that gleam with recognition when they catch sight of Lynx.