Disclaimer: I don't own warriors.

Constructive criticism is encouraged- please review. If this goes well, I'll update every few days.

Prologue

Dewdrops clung to every blade of grass, but the rest of the scene was obliterated by the smoky cloud that was progressing steadily through the dry gorge. A lone she-cat, with black fur with a chocolate hint trudged through the dry valley, head low and sides rattling with exertion. Her hazy blue eyes shone dark with loss, and her tail dragged through the dust that was now mixed with ash. Above her, a dark cloud burst, and glorious sheets of rain tumbled down, each unique, and each kicking the she-cat in the gut when they landed, cleansing the landscape of the disaster that had occurred only hours before.

"Why" she spat, hateful meow echoing through the barren area "why does the rain always come too late? Never in time to save anyone." In her mind, she still saw the flickering flames consume the shelters- first the warriors den caught a spark in its coarse branches, and exploded into a fire controlled monster. Then, the medicine cat's den had been cornered off, and Darksong could still hear the pathetic meows of the young healer as she tried to claw her way through the burning branch that had blocked her exit, and the way they'd slowly grown weaker, until they had stopped all together.

The gorge had only one entrance- Cliffclan had no enemies, and so no need for a secret escape. The camp was surrounded by craggy cliffs- great fun to climb, but impossible to reach the top. The clan had been as good as trapped as the flames advanced, claiming one life after another. Those who had tried to hide succumbed to smoke inhalation, and as it was the middle of the night, the clan had been less than prepared. No one had been out of the camp at the time, and so no one was spared.

Except Darksong. She had left the camp to make dirt, and when she'd returned the whole thing was consumed in flames. She had tried to fight her way in, and her apprentice Driftpaw had spotted her dark tail flickering in despair, and called out to her. She had had such faith that her mentor would save her, that she did not move from the slightly elevated rock she stood on, as the flames steadily caught up with her. Darksong had listened to her squeals of agony and terror, right until the very end.

"I'm sorry!" she had sobbed in pain, as though that made it any better "I'm so, so sorry!"

When the fire had died- having nothing more to consume- Darksong had walked through the ashes. The nursing queens and their kits had been trapped in their cave- they'd been powerless as the smoke swept in like a deadly cloud. One kit- Autumnkit- had survived. Darksong had stayed with him whilst he battled the killer inside his lungs, and stroked him with her fluffy tail until he gasped his last. No other cat had survived the fire.

And so, like the coward she was, Darksong had decided to flee. She now marched along the bottom of the dry gorge, searching for an exit. She could not bear to go through the ghost camp another time.

Just as she had decided to attempt to scramble up the walls of the ravine, a familiar, husky voice reached out to her. "Darksong!? Is that you?"

Spinning around, she pinpointed two figures, moving through the dark morning towards her. The souls of the dead, come to take her to join them? Would Starclan do that? She could think of no reason why not. In a husky rasp sodden with grief, Darksong wailed: "Who is it?"

"Bluemist and Redpaw!" The deep meow replied, and Darksong's tail flickered with joy. How had they survived? Before she could ponder this, Bluemist added: "What happened?"

Darksong padded to join her friends, who had pulled free from the cloud of ash. "A fire. No one survived."

Visibly pained, Bluemist sunk to the ground, his head flopping. "Not even Pebblefur?" as if his mate was excluded from "everyone". Darksong simply shook her head, and stepped back to let her denmate grieve. Turning to the russet coloured, long haired she-cat, Darksong muttered discreetly to the apprentice: "Redpaw, how did you survive?"

The red she-cat shrugged. "We were out doing a night hunting session. Don't-didn't you ever do that with Driftpaw?"

That was right. Bluemist had asked Darksong if she and her apprentice had wanted to go by night, to practice hunting in the dark. Why hadn't she said yes? The black she-cat nodded vacantly, before nudging Bluemist. "We'd best be going."

"Where?" The tom moaned, eyes glazed with bereavement.

"Away from here."