Hey all! I know I haven't been here in awhile but life is hectic and annoying. So here is something I've been working on for awhile now and that I've finally had time to post.

Hope you all enjoy! I don't own any Warriors material!

Destiny. Defined as the events that will happen to a cat in the future, leading up to the day they leave. It is believed unavoidable. It is believed unchangeable. It is believed to be in the paws of a cat or their ancestors. Not that it matters much. Some things seemingly can't be avoided. At least, that's how they feel in the moment. Maybe the truth lies within the stars above. Maybe the truth lies within a cat's heart. Again, it doesn't really matter. The only thing that matters is the moment. A cat cannot see into the future. Living in a memory doesn't keep one fed or warm or loved. Only each breath counts as important. Those who stand at one's side are important. Destiny may exist but what does it matter? The end goal will be the same. Life is something to be cherished and preserved. Why should blood or boundaries matter more than a cat's life? It simply doesn't make sense.

That's the belief that kept this Clan alive. Cherish the living above all else. Remember the dead for what they had accomplished but don't live in the memory. Every day was a blessing. Every piece of prey was honored. Every cat was loved for who they were. At night, every eye would look to the stars, counting those who had come before. Boundaries were placed and patrolled but fighting was rare, the last resort. Many scoffed and laughed. The Clan was weak. The Clan was afraid of a fight. The truth, for those willing to listen, was far more compelling. These cats knew how to fight. Their lineage traced back to the six Clans. Four had moved to a new home by a lake. The fifth had been destroyed and rebuilt and driven out again. The last was deadly but eventually fell to fire's might. This Clan honored their heritage, their creator. From blood and death she had come, rallying the aid of many. Peace the highest goal. To see others loved was the purpose. Fighting, bloodshed, and death were the enemy. The fifth Clan, driven out and weakened, found this Clan by chance. Two leaders met and agreed. The other three formed slowly. They were afraid of an attack. Yet the peaceful leader did nothing to harm, only to help. Five Clans stand in secret. Five Clans with deep roots.

The oldest Clan traced their roots to the forest. There they hunted in the high trees with sparse underbrush. Masters of climbing and crushing leaps. Some say this Clan could reach the stars at night if they chose. Bitterness ran through them at the other four who drove them out, refused to aid them. Yet two such cats had come to their aid and rebuilt them. A group of rogues attacked them, trying to tear them apart. Their noble leader refused to let her Clan fall apart. She led them away, following the stars. The rogues followed. Trapped in a ravine, the Clan had no where to run. The leaders faced off. Then the other Clan was there, supporting the wavering courage of the running Clan. The rogue leader thought he could win. He quickly learned how deadly the new Clan leader was. She, after all, was trained by someone far deadlier than the rogue. With the rogues gone, the newer Clan helped the old to settle in. The territory was perfect: filled with high trees, the deep running ravine, and sparse undergrowth. The camp was built in a secluded glade that only the owners could find. At the half moon, the two Clans came together to remember when they first met. A peace was forged between them – one that will exist for many generations.

The next Clan was founded by a family of rogues. They were relatively harmless, unless one was foolish enough to attack. Long-legged and long-tailed, they preferred the winding caves and hardened ground of an abandoned Twoleg quarry. Very little prey lived above ground but plenty roamed in the darkness. At first they were hostile. None could believe that the other two Clans would welcome them. Territory, after all, was something valuable to a large group of cats. Both leaders were quick to reassure. If the rogue family wanted the quarry, they could have it. It didn't suit the high-climbing Clan or soft-treading, peaceful Clan. The family's fresh-kill pile remained full as they got their bearings. The peaceful Clan pulled back, allowing them some forested territory as well. New boundaries rose. At the next half-moon meeting, they entered uncertainly, only to be welcomed with open paws as the third Clan.

It was surprisingly the kittypets that became the fourth Clan. With the quarry abandoned and jobs found elsewhere, many Twolegs packed up and left. Few thought to bring their loving cats along with them. Dens remained empty and yards were uncared for. Scared and starving, the kittypets sought to join the Clans. Some found they fit in one Clan or another. The rest felt useless. The peaceful leader, however, would see no cat starve. Prey was taking advantage of the Twolegs' absence. Her Clan taught the kittypets how to hunt and fight. Their territory would be their former homes. Thus, four Clans began to meet at the half-moon gatherings. It was decided that a larger area was needed. One large Twoleg home had collapsed long ago from lack of proper care. The remaining high walls formed a defensible perimeter and provided secrecy. It was easily reachable by all the Clans, so it made the perfect spot. All leaders agreed that none would claim it as part of their territory.

Another three moons would pass before the fifth Clan was brave enough to appear. They were mostly small, short-legged, and wide-bodied. They came from very different walks of life: kittypet, rogue, loner, former Clan, and wanderer. It was a former Clan cat who chose to be leader. He was trying desperately to keep his friends and family alive. The half-moon was when he chose to make their presence known, as it was a time of guaranteed peace. What he didn't expect was for the leaders to offer aid. They all knew his Clan had arrived. They all could smell the marked borders. If his Clan needed help, their leader had to ask. So they took the dusty, windswept heather that separated the Twoleg dens from the high-standing trees. Though their prey were speedy and agile, the cats learned to stalk silently and use their surroundings in surprise attacks. Ambush hunters and fighters.

Thus, five Clans rose in the forgotten land. Five leaders chose peace over war. Border skirmishes were rare. Prey was never stolen – given freely. They understood that in times of hardship, it was easier to stand together than fight for what little they had. This isn't to say fighting never happened. All are flawed. All make mistakes. Rogues and loners would sometimes cause trouble. Predators are a constant threat. It was the choice to be peaceful and helpful and caring that separated these five from their counterparts.

But none of this would have come together without one cat. She made her decision to leave home. She made her decision to live a different life. Her father raised her one way. Her heart declared another. As a young kit, she wanted nothing more than to make her father proud, to follow his pawsteps. He believed that blood was everything. All his enemies would bleed. All his cats waded in blood. But time showed the truth. She would never be what her father wanted. She would never meet his expectations. Fighting and bloodshed were one solution. It didn't have to be the only solution. Leaving, she would find a barn with two cats who showed her another way. A way of peace. A way of kindness. It would be meeting a ginger tom with green eyes that kicked everything into motion. If peace was the better way, then surely a Clan could stand upon that message. Surely others would believe the same.

Destiny is a funny thought. One never knows if it is real. One can never see the full path that lies ahead. The peaceful leader never knew what would happen. Her heart called for peace, even as her father called for death. When she left that peaceful barn, saying goodbye to the black and white tom with blue eyes, the pure black tom with a white spot on his chest and white tail-tip and green eyes, the ginger tom with green eyes, and the smoky-dark gray she-cat with blue eyes and a wounded leg, she never imagined aiding in the creation of five Clans. She never imagined fostering a peace that would hold them together many generations after her death. Legends say she saw everything the night Starclan came to call her home. All the leaders who come after, all the battles, all the seasons of sharing and laughter, all the cats who would follow her pawsteps. Five stars shine brightly in the night sky upon the half-moon. The five Clans state these are the five original leaders. The star in the middle is one who forged them all. The leaders who received nine lives say they've seen them sitting together: Branchstar of Rockclan, Juniperstar of Wildclan, Pebblestar of Heatherclan, Leafstar of Skyclan…

And Icestar of Iceclan.