Storm stood silently in a shadowy bunch of trees that skirted the edge of a clearing. He was watching the cats inside.

"Everyone, contribute your prey to the pile, please. The Darkness warriors will collect them and lead you lot home," a dark tabby tom standing on top of a tall rock was yowling down to a scraggly bunch of cats huddled together at the bottom of the stone he was standing on. Each of the cats at the bottom had prey in their mouths, and they shied toward the mark for the prey pile, and dropped them off. The tabby sneered.

"Thats all you scrawny snails got? Warriors, punish them!" the Dark cat smirked. Shadowed figures slipped out of the trees surrounding the clearing. Storm narrowed his eyes at the tabby on the rock.

How dare he order cats around like this? They aren't mindless ticks! Storm thought. He wanted to help, but the odds were at least ten of the "Darkness" warriors were there, not including the tabby, against seven scrawny, deprived cats and him. Storm was good in combat, but the warriors looked strong, their fur sleek and eyes glowing. Storm turned away, and padded toward his den. The moonlight made his silver tabby fur look lighter, and his blue eyes seemed to illuminate his face. He heard screams coming from the direction of the clearing, and the indistinct laughter of the Darkness warriors. He folded his ears to block out the sound, but the laughter rang in his head. It was cruel, and taunting. Then another sound made him stumble.

No! Please! Kill me instead! Please! Let Storm go, he's just a tiny kit! He-

A tiny kit, eh? Well, you get your wish. I'll kill you instead!

Saphira! Run and take Storm with you! I'll hold him off, go, my love!

Storm screamed. It was his parents. Saphira, his mother, and Snake, his father, was brutally drowned, or rather murdered by a ginger tom. Even though his eyes had only opened a few days before the incident, the tom's features stayed in his mind forever. His ginger fur had dark russet stripes slashing down on either side of his sleek body, and he had white paws. White paws that were stained with blood. He had a long, whippy tail. A long scar on his right foreleg stood out on the ginger fluff. And his eyes… His eyes were an evil, glowing purple. Strange color, but it was so frightening that if Storm saw a purple-eyed cat again, he would… He would collapse.

"Storm! You're back! Hey, where's the prey?" as Storm reached his den, a furry white face peeked out at him through the bramble entrance. It was his best friend, Star. Storm completely forgot he was supposed to be hunting.

"I'll explain later. But I need to talk to you and Blaze," Storm walked into the den, which was basically an old burrow of some sort in the ground that they also dug out, and walked into his room under the lake. Well, the shallower end. He looked up at the ceiling as he lay on his moss and leaf bed. The ceiling was made of a thick, clear sheet of hard something that Storm and Blaze had gathered from Twoleg houses. Star had called it "glass", as she had been a kittypet when the Twolegs died out. Blaze and Storm loved to go to the abandoned Twolegplaces, and collect the things there. They also liked to experiment with "metal", a shiny silvery hard material that they could heat up in a "forge", and mold into shapes. Blaze had actually touched the flames from the forge before, and hadn't got burnt. That wasn't the only time Blaze had interacted with fire and got away completely unharmed. Star called him a "firebender" before. Storm's thoughts were interrupted by pawstep sounds at the entrance. He saw Star's white body, which was streaked with bright yellow marks, gray paws, and her bright amber eyes, at the corner of his eye. Blaze, a strong, muscular flame-patterned and colored tom, smiled at Storm, his green eyes blazing.

"'Sup, Storm? How're you?" Blaze meowed, and Storm heard his stomach growl.

"Why do you want to talk to us?" Star looked concerned.

"Do you remember the Clan cat guys? The nice ones whose territory borders ours?" Storm blurted out. Star and Blaze nodded, confused.

"Whazzat gotta do with the point of this chat?" Blaze raised an eyebrow, and sat down.

"Well, they're being tortured by these evil stinking cats who call themselves the "Darkness". The Clans are being forced to give those idiots prey that they caught, and by the looks of it, they aren't doing very well. They're scrawny, and if they don't bring back enough prey they get punished. It's really sad, they can't even feed themselves!" Storm exclaimed, narrowing his eyes.

"Why? Can't those idiot moron Darkfarts hunt for themselves?!" Blaze growled.

"I have no idea…" Storm shook his head.

"Why are you mentioning these idiots? What I'm saying is, get to the point, Storm!" Star meowed.

"Alright! Geez, Star, calm down! Maybe the turds have something to with something he's gonna say!" Blaze growled, exasperated.

"Thank you Blaze, thats correct. What I'm saying is, we should help them!" he mewed.

"But Storm, how do we help them? We don't even have prey now!" Star laughed, pointing out the fact that Storm hadn't brought prey back.

"I'll go with Storm," Blaze meowed, and padded outside. Storm followed, leaving Star to stay and tidy up the den.