This is my first fanfiction on the site, so I would appreciate feedback highly on errors or inconsistencies with the books. In advance, thanks for taking the time to read it!

Prologue

Everything was happening so fast.

Fireheart recoiled as the rogue struck a heavy blow at his face, claws connecting to rake bloody trails across his stinging cheek. With a howl of pain, the flame-coloured warrior launched forward, paws outstretched to catch the heavyset cat in the chest and push him backward. The lunge managed to stagger the other tom and send him onto his back, but, with a screech of outrage, the rogue swept his claws down in a bloody arc to deal a second blow to Fireheart's face, this time raking down over his brow and sending hot crimson liquid pooling into his eyes.

The orange tom spat and jumped backward, scrabbling frantically to clear his eyes, but the other cat was already back on his feet, and sneering as he closed the gap between them. Powerful muscles bunched in his haunches as he leaped… but he didn't manage to reach Fireheart in time before a brown shape crashed into the rogue's side, bowling him over and knocking him away. Fireheart shook his head and gaped at his rescuer; Dustpelt was standing, sides heaving, a tail-length away. With a nod, the brown tom leaped for the rogue – their mutual bitterness toward one another seemed to have been buried temporarily in response to the new threat.

Then, a choked caterwaul rang in the camp, and Fireheart whirled round to see Thornpaw, golden fur matted with blood, locked in a deadly tussle with Brokentail, whose blinded eyes gave him no impediment as he latched onto the apprentice with razor-sharp fangs. Fireheart barely had a moment to register their fight before he saw the former leader wrap his forelegs around Thornpaw's shoulders – as though in an embrace – then haul himself upwards to sink his teeth into the younger cat's throat.

"No!" Fireheart cried, rushing forwards to the apprentice's aid, but it was too late. Brokentail ripped the flesh free of his neck with an effortless turn of the head, then released the apprentice and made a hasty attempt to crawl away. Thornpaw stumbled, disorientated and bleeding heavily, then his eyes began to glaze over as his life trickled away, down over his chest. Fireheart just caught him as he crumpled to the ground, and held him as his shuddery breaths gave way into silence.

A pained cry rang out from somewhere else in the camp – Fireheart was too stunned to pinpoint where, though he lifted his head and swivelled it to look around. Frostfur, Thornpaw's mother, flanked on both sides by Brindleface and Speckletail, stared at the scene with mixed horror and rage in her eyes, and after a few moments of stunned stillness, leaped past the rogue her fellow queens were batting at and pelted the length of the camp to where Brokentail was scrabbling at the ground, trying to get away. She cleared the distance easily, fuelled by a mother's love and a mother's loss, and pounced atop the weakened tom's back to sink her teeth into his scruff, raking at his back and sides.

She was not trying to kill him, Fireheart realised; Frostfur was giving him all the pain she could deal, trapping him as she did. Blood chilled by her anguished screams, he closed Thornpaw's sightless eyes and took his body aside, where it would not be disturbed during the battle. With a last nod of respect, he turned to scan the camp to where his help would be most appreciated. He was alarmed to not spot Bluestar, or Tigerclaw. Glancing at her den, he saw the silhouettes of two cats – and panicked. With a cry, he began to charge to his leader's aid, afraid of who was in there…

A shape barrelled into him, throwing him off-course and sending him sprawling. Before he could regain footing, he felt the stab of sharp claws pin him down by his shoulders, and a weight on top of him, holding him to the ground. With a snarl, he twisted in an attempt to dislodge his attacker, but they remained atop him, sneering.

"Poor little kittypet," a she-cat's voice wheedled in his ear. "Just another word for 'weakling'!"

Fireheart snarled and writhed again, but she dug in her claws deeper, causing him to cry out in pain.

"What's that, kittypet? Am I hurting you?" The she-cat cackled, almost manically, and he caught a glimpse of her russet-coloured fur as she leaned down to whisper next to his face. "Such a pity. A pity that your Clan's being hurt worse – and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Fireheart snarled, and a sudden rush of anger gave him the strength to surge upwards and send the rogue flying past him, somersaulting over his shoulders to land in a heap in the dust before him. She shook herself momentarily before Fireheart leaped for her, though he took a misstep, and didn't reach her before she leaped into the air and landed once more back onto his shoulders. This time, it wasn't her claws he felt; it was her teeth, burying themselves into his spine at the base of his neck. With a howl of helplessness, Fireheart squirmed futilely, but would not be freed.

Then, the pain abated, and the weight was banished again. The flame-coloured tom heard a thump as the she-cat landed a fox-length away, and his form fell into shadow as a hulking shape stood over him. Looking up, neck stinging, Fireheart felt a wash of relief as he noted the gleaming white fur of the senior warrior Whitestorm, fresh for the fight and flanked by other members of the patrol.

In the distance, Fireheart heard a screeched battle-cry as Sandstorm and her patrol surged into the camp, murderous fury glinting in their eyes. Cloudpaw trailed close behind, sides heaving and legs churning as the small cat struggled to keep up with the warriors.

"Are you alright?" Whitestorm's voice was full of concern.

"Y-yes, I think so," Fireheart mewed shakily, and got to his feet as Whitestorm stepped away. The russet she-cat was being chased off now, Darkstripe and a grey she-cat who looked eerily like Bluestar charging after her to the edge of the camp.

At Fireheart's puzzled look, Whitestorm purred gently, and explained. "Mistyfoot was with Leopardfur in the forest, along with a patrol of RiverClan cats. They offered to help us once they learned we were in trouble."

Fireheart blinked slowly, then heaved himself to his paws and looked around. All throughout the camp, the rogues were being chased off. Speckletail managed a last jab at a towering tom as he pelted into the shadows, and Cinderpelt and Yellowfang, stood side-by-side, hissed as another rogue made off into the forest, spitting. Filled with a warm sense of pride, Fireheart found Greystripe and caught his gaze. The smoke-furred tom was battered, but stood beside his equally-beaten-up apprentice, Brackenpaw, with warmth and relief in his eyes.

This relief, however, was not to last long. Fireheart's calm soon phased to confusion as Greystripe's eyes widened in horror, and Brackenpaw let out a high-pitched wail. Whitestorm whirled round and cried out, and all around the camp, a startled murmur began to arise as Tigerclaw emerged from the leader's den, carrying a limp grey shape in his jaws. He dropped it beneath the Highrock, face stricken, then released a long, pained yowl.

"Cats of ThunderClan!" he cried, claws churning the earth beneath. "Bluestar is dead!"

So, there's the prologue. What do you guys think? Should I continue it? Are there any errors I need to watch out for? Do you have any suggestions or improvements? Let me know with a review; they're very much appreciated!