"So similar. So different."
Sandstorm nodded, looking at Firestar in pity.
"They look almost exactly the same. Their voices sound the same. But they're so different," Firestar mewed, shivering.
"It's all right. Hawkfrost will never bother us again. He's dead," Sandstorm meowed quietly, licking between his ears.
"I know that, but still..." Firestar trailed off, fidgeting.
A ray of sunlight hit the cut that circled around his neck, menacing and terrible.
"I was a fool..." Firestar whispered. "A fool."
Hawkfrost faded out of existence before him.
Brambleclaw left to join a different part of the battle.
"So recent. So long."
Bramblestar gently licked Squirrelflight between the ears.
"I know. I know, Squirrelflight, I know what it's like."
"Yes...I suppose you do, after all."
The two of them looked up at a sunset sky, the hidden horizon tinted red. Two geese flew overhead, seeming to say, 'We bring change'.
A forget-me-not bloomed outside camp, over where that ginger pelt was obscured by dirt, masking the scent of death.
Sunrise. Sunrise marks life. Sunset marks death. The clouds represent the living. The stars represent the dead.
"They're such beauties! They look like us!
Brambleclaw nodded, purring at Squirrelflight.
"I think...I think we should name the tom Eaglekit. What should the she-kit..."
Brambleclaw knew in seconds.
"Firekit. Her name is Firekit."
Squirrelflight nodded. "I hope she's as brave as her namesake.
And then the age of fire and ice passed. The world is as it was countless moons ago.
Before they even dreamed of killing the dead.
Before Scourge was defeated.
Before Rusty entered the forest.
Before Bluestar made that simple choice that saved the Clans.
Before Pinestar left ThunderClan, the Clans had one ancient, half-forgotten prophecy.
"Greed is only the beginning. There will be war."
That war hasn't even come yet. That war shall destroy us.