Hi everyone! This is an idea that I had when I was looking through Secrets of the Clans one day. Everyone loves cheetahs, right? I decided to interweave a society for cheetahs into the Three big clans, where those huge cats roamed the forest. It will be a little bit like SkyClan, but that's all I'm saying! This is also going to be by a narrator's POV, like Rock in Cats of the Clans. And, I'm also not giving this a sequel unless people really want me to. Alright? ALRIGHT! ^.^

LionClan

Leader- Lion-golden tom

Deputy- Goldenfur-gold tom with a nick in one ear

Medicine Cat- Meadowflight-she-cat with creamy white underbelly and blue eyes

TigerClan

Leader- Tiger-tom with battle scars and dark eyes

Deputy- Shadowheart-large she-cat with dark eyes

Medicine Cat- Mothberry-she-cat with orange eyes

LeopardClan

Leader- Leopard-she-cat with amber eyes

Deputy- Blacknose-tom with black nose

Medicine Cat- Riverspots-tom with brown eyes

CheetahClan

Leader- Cheetah-lithe she-cat

Deputy- Breezesong-inexperienced she-cat

Medicine Cat- Cloudsky-tom with blue eyes

I look to the north, and the stars start to twinkle into the evening sky, carrying the moon in it's silver light cast upon lands. Moonlight and starshine are worshipped everywhere, being beautiful everywhere.

I look to the west, and rising sun, lighting a land in it's golden fire. Dawn arrives, alighting all creatures with the sunlight it bears after a cold night, where it was hidden from the stars.

I look to the east towards the sun, now high in the sky, in the clear blue sky. It shines down brightly, giving a warm face to all who gaze upon it, warming the lands.

I look to the south, and I see the mysterious twilight, bright golden yet a shadowy black, veiling the land in a curtain of darkness. It holds the moon and the sun, which makes it the strangest of them all.

The four ways of looking, the four times of each span of the solar cycle. I look upon all these directions, I see all that happens. Gather around, all young and old, all cats who dare to listen to the tale lost between generations of generations.

Do you all recall the stories of the big cats who once ruled the forest? LeopardClan, spotted and swift, LionClan, golden and brave, and TigerClan, sly and striped? Of course- all nurseries held these tales to quench the imagination of their kits.

But they didn't know of the secret kept by their long-ago ancestors, the secret the ones who currently reside in the stars do not recall. No, this was only for ancient ears alone who dwell among the skies. And yet they had no idea.

Is everyone seated? Everyone holding bated breath is anxiety of my story? Good, I have caught your attention. Now, going to the very beginning, where wild cats drew towards the forest, seeking an organized way of living in the forest, untamed by Twolegs.

They grew into clans, the first leader of LionClan was originally known as Lion; it is said he was the first Lion to walk the lands. He was a big strong cat, with a golden mane and beautiful kits. Yes, young kit, you could say he did resemble Thunder a bit.

The leader of LeopardClan was known as Leopard, a wily, yet cunning she-cat with dark spots all over her. She enjoyed to swim in rivers, climb in trees, and didn't like to run to catch her prey. She was a good size, too. Almost as large as lionesses.

The leader of TigerClan was a cunning old badger, named Tiger. He was the first, and every cat was enchanted when they found out this orange cat also had black stripes to match! Yes, the tale of tigers earning their stripes from one moon in solace is not true. He was smart and ambitious, but used it to the good of his clan, though he always secretly sought more.

And then-what? You say there are no more clans? Well, that's where the secret comes in. You see, there were originally four races of cats in the beginning clans.

Shocking, correct? This hasn't ever been spoken of because al the cats at the time agreed that none should ever know about this. The story was excused from being told to kits, and the true beginning had to be cut short.

A right to live is a right to live, and yet the small spotted cats who ran like the swift wind had their rights taken from them. These cats were called cheetahs, and ran faster than any hare I'd ever caught. Like the swift wind, they were almost a blur hunting. You all know what a leopard looks like, correct? Imagine one smaller and more lithe than that, with smaller and more circular spots. This is the image of a cheetah, the swift runners.

Now, cheetahs also cannot roar, not including the fact that they were also much smaller than the other cats. These cats were often parts in jeers and jokes from the other clans.

No, I'm not saying that being small is bad. I was small once myself. But with such large cats roaming territories, a small cat was bound to be afraid. Sit down, Rainpaw. I'm also not pointing to WindClan either; running fast is perfectly fine.

And this is the story of the lost great clan.

And the sun sets upon the abandoned moorland, drifting away in the last merry wishes of the lost.

When all the ferocity and untamed wild things came about, growing freely in the forest, large cats of many sizes and colors were drawn into the greenery, each enticed by own personal means. There were no Twolegs to bound them by any means, no trouble from the two-legged fiends. They say that the cats lived in the old forest where the five clans grew in, before the Great Journey. It could be true, it could be lies. But let us say that it is true.

All the leopards gathered together, each drawn together by their pelts, which seemed the same, but were easily distinguished by the pattern. They decided to live together in a large group, as did the other clans. The lions gathered, being able to tell each other apart by their manes and scents. The tigers, their stripes created distinctive enough markings. The small cheetahs had different patterns, like the leopards.

Each chose a leader, and there was one cat who bore the name of either 'lion', 'tiger', 'leopard', or 'cheetah'. Thus each clan was named after their leader, and their race.

The clans each chose a part of territory to live in, to support their clan. LeopardClan chose the island with the river, excluding Sunningrocks. LionClan took the forest and Sunningrocks, causing the everlasting battle between the land or river and of woods to continue throughout the ages. TigerClan took the dark marshes where they were well suited, flitting in the shadows like thieves. Leaving CheetahClan to the moorland, which was now golden and carved with a warm wind from the shining sun, unlike WindClan's camp.

And so the clans lived, vowing each to live by the code of honor, like real warriors. They gathered every full moon to share ideas and thoughts to lengthen the code of honor, and soon they also began to share news of deaths, life, and the creating of a new cat training to be a warrior, or the ceremony to become a warrior.

And yet, battles would break out occasionally, and sometimes deaths occurred tragically. Disease would spread, famine causing disaster, the normality of what the clans face today.

The clans' lives were not so delicate that they broke upon impact, but would struggle like an indignant piece of prey, insisting upon living. And all the other clans knew that CheetahClan was the weakest.

When leaf-bare hung over the clans like a dark cloud, waiting to break, prey began to die. The water buffalo in the river starting dying of cold, and LeopardClan began to starve, Fish was never enough for big cats. TigerClan lost all their boars and jungle food. LionClan continuously came across carcasses of cold prey. CheetahClan also starved, losing most dead prey to hyenas. The clans refused to each crow-food, which certainly cost them lives.

Some cats didn't want to starve, and broke the code of honor by eating crow-food without feeding the clan first. Many elders died that beginning of leaf-bare. But the harsh winters-no matter how strong the sun was during Greenleaf, new-leaf, and leaf-fall-only caught the exceptional piece of prey, not enough to feed the clans. Lives were lost, and something had to be done.

The leaders took their deputy, and headed for Fourtrees to discuss this issue of starvation. Each leader hadn't taken the ending -star, but all the other cats had warrior names. The cats only decided upon to now eat smaller prey, but Cheetah and her own deputy, Lightningspots, had to depart early, in order to perform a delayed ceremony. It was after her departure the three leaders began to plot.

Tiger immediately suggested invading CheetahClan's land and taking their prey for themselves. Lion winced, horrified at the idea, yet slightly drawn at the thought of food. Leopard was also enticed, and the deputies were left with no choice to agree-after all, the leader's word is law.

Yes, Marshkit, I know the Warrior Code says to do nothing of the sorts. But, they were just developing the code now, weren't they? This hadn't come into play until after. And no, Shrewpaw, I'm not implying that a battle will happen. Yet.

But the leaders agreed to meet with their battle patrol at Fourtrees on the next night of the half-moon.

When they returned back to camp bearing the news, immediately each medicine cat raised their voice among their clan leader against it. LeopardClan's medicine cat, Riverspots, warned of trouble to come if the battle was evoked. But all Leopard did was snort in contempt, blind to see the omen her medicine cat gave her…

More cats died before the half-moon came. The Gathering between the times had been short, the leaders intent on hiding their secret from the smaller, weaker cats in their view. But the medicine cats had managed a warning, being the only cats who thought the battle to drive them out was wrong. They passed the news of terror to Cloudsky, who was astonished. But he did not warn his clan leader. Why? Because he thought they would be fools to fun, like they do each day on the moorland, hunting.

Finally, the sun set on the world, and the half-moon rose into the sky. At that moment, Cloudsky had raised his head towards the appearing stars, and whispered a silent prayer to their ancestors who had all died from the famine. "Please let me be right to keep this silent." He murmured.

And at that time, all three leaders had rounded up their most vicious warriors, all ready to gain the prize-food for the clan. Sharpened claws, full bellies, energy to burn, and claws ready to sink into the fur of cheetahs. They marched slowly onward towards the camp of their enemies.

And unbeknownst to them, three cats watched them from the undergrowth. They lay hidden, scent concealed by the all too many scents of the mingling cats in the clearing. And horror tingled through their spines, creeping to their minds. The medicine cats had to do something.

Together they raced onward, and bonds began to be forged between the three. Meadowflight was a wise, youthful she-cat, who deemed fighting irresponsible and vulgar. She had a great connection to the ancestors, as well. Mothberry was slightly inexperienced in sharing with the ancestors, but her knowledge of herbs made up for the lack of spirituality. And Riverspots was a cranky tom, who knew much about herbs, and the ancestors, but chose to sometimes spite instead of listen to them.

They headed towards the CheetahClan camp, urging their leg muscles onward, to try and save the cheetahs. Silently, Riverspots prayed Cloudsky heeded the warning given to him.

The swift wind has retreated north, leaving the seeping scarlet tainting the lands of golden horizons.

But all was in vain.

For when they arrived, the camp was already in havoc. Clans consisted of around forty cats, maybe. Several cats were already lying in a clearing, torn and bloodied, with ragged limbs barely perceptible through all the blood. Many had already died.

Cheetah was battling Tiger, hissing and spitting with rage. Two cats pulled Tiger off her, and she jumped onto a large rock, yowling for silence.

"How dare you all?" She spat at them, fur fluffed up, teeth bared. "You attack my camp with no reason, in the middle of leaf-bare, and think this could be a fair fight, coming to kill us all! You dare call yourselves warriors? I have lost much of my clan to this cold and hunger, and now you have added to that number in such little time!" Her eyes blazed with anger, teeth shown.

Tiger stalked up beneath the rock. "We do this because it is necessary for survival! You are the weak prey, and we are the strong hunters. You are not true cats; you cannot even roar! I am proud to have led this battle, and we will be successful!" Roars rang around him, praising his words, but all did not.

Several cats now look flabbergasted, embarrassed to have fought against the innocent cheetahs, now realizing their mistake. Tiger let out a massive roar that was said to shake the whole land, and jumped onto one lion, who looked like they would not participate in the fight. Tiger wrestled the flailing cat to the ground, and spat in their face, exclaiming, "you dare not fight with me?" The lion didn't answer, too terrified to peep, and Tiger dug his sharp teeth into the lion's throat.

A wail escaped the crowd. "Tiger has killed Lion's mate!" More cries emerged.

"Tiger's a murderer! What will Lion do?"

"Sandflower is dead!"

But the most depressing screech of all was Lion, who pushed himself through the crowd, eyes brimming with tears, filled with grief.

"Sandflower!" He cried, mourning the loss of his mate. He dropped next to her side, pressing his nose to her pelt. Tiger let out another screech, and launched himself onto the nearest cheetah, who was a young apprentice, who dropped dead after a small struggle. Other cats followed suit, continuing the attack.

More blood spilled that night. Many cheetahs were killed, and even some cats from other clans. Kits, elders, queens, apprentices, not just warriors, were defeated in battle, lifeblood seeping into the moorland ground. Several cheetahs had made revenge against the tigers, but the opponents remained supreme.

The battle raged throughout the whole night, screeches and gurgles of death that were cut short echoed in the night. Goldenfur and Blacknose were killed, each struck down in battle. They would never lead their clan. Lion's allegiances were divided, and so were LeopardClan's. Leopard herself fought against the cheetahs, in terror of being killed, with a good majority of her clan. Lion seemed to have divided loyalties, some fighting with the cheetahs, others against them. Several tigers fought with the cheetahs, believing their leader was wrong.

One leopard, a fierce tom by the name of Gorgeclaw, had found a hiding cheetah she-cat underneath a beech tree. Her stomach was large, and Gorgeclaw hissed in anger, roaring, "you have eaten all our prey!" Her grabbed her scruff, dragging her out into the center.

She whimpered in pain, and tried to fight back, hissing and clawing and biting at him. But even though Gorgeclaw was heavily layered in his and her own blood, he did not give up. "We are starving!" He kept yowling on and on, clawing at the she-cat, until her blood had spattered the whole ground beneath her, tainting the land of the swift.

Finally, she shuddered one last breath, and was still, cold as ice.

There was a yowl behind Gorgeclaw. One cheetah tom, soaked in blood, had the fire of hatred in his eyes. "You killed her," he murmured, then shrieked, "You killed her!", launching himself at Gorgeclaw.

The two brawled over the whole battlefield, until finally, the tom suck his claws into Gorgeclaw's throat. With a gurgle that was cut off, the large tom went limp, on top of his killer.

Leaving the now blackened land and finding northern brethren, together a new light is shining.

The battle raged on, deaths like this continuously occurring. Only a few cheetahs remained, when suddenly the undergrowth near the northern border exploded, revealing three large cats.

Immediately the battle stopped, all cats looking at the three new arrivals. It was Meadowflight, Riverspots, and Mothberry, who had ran across the whole territory to get to the battle. They looked shaken and haggard, exhausted from their long journey, but even more surprised when they saw all the scattered cadavers in the clearing. Riverspots threw his own head back and yowled a low, soft moan.

And they say high above, in the clouds, the shape of all the cats ancestors formed. The one with devastatingly sharp teeth, elongated past their own chins. Legends tell that this orange-striped cat once roamed the mountains, killing all in it's path. It's face carved into the sky, looking down upon the destruction of one of their descendants.

The three medicine cats searched the clearing, checking all the dead and wounded. Suddenly, Cloudsky burst onto the territory, panic and guilt wild in his eyes. When they scanned the clearing, his eyes halted on the dead she-cat who was killed by Gorgeclaw.

"No!" He cried, and flung himself onto her. "Not Larksong!" He started licking away at her blood, his hidden intentions seemingly trying to reveal something hidden in her torn belly.

A small leopard, about seven moons, padded up next to him. "Gorgeclaw killed her, saying that she had eaten all their food since her belly was so big." The young cat looked timid, but trying to be brave in front of a medicine cat.

But Cloudsky shook his head sadly. "No, young one. Gorgeclaw was wrong. Larksong was carrying four kits."

The young cat let out a gasp of horror, and all fighting around them had ceased. The only movement were the three medicine cats wandering from one living cat to another, tending to their wounds. And all cats were wounded.

Cheetah came to the clearing next to Larksong's body, and started to wail. "She was my sister," she kept repeating. "I was going to be an aunt." The remnants of her clan sat behind her. Only a few remained after the battle, about five or six from the originally large clan. Quite some warriors, her deputy, and one apprentice.

Lion, Leopard, and Tiger stepped forward, each having grief for the dead queen and kits in their eyes. Leopard murmured, "I apologize for my warrior, but he has paid the highest price for taking five lives. Larksong's mate killed him for revenge."

Cheetah bowed her head. "Larksong will never be forgotten, as will Sandflower. All our lost ones shall be honored." The cats all rumbled an agreement.

Suddenly Cheetah hissed. "But I cannot forgive you. You launched an attack on us, intent on either driving us out, or killing us all. Will not stand for it. You three" she mewed, looking straight at the leader, "you formed the code of honor that now leads our clans. Yet you drove my clan out. I will not stand for it. I am taking my clan elsewhere."

There were yowls of shock from the others, and Cheetah let out a shriek to silence them. "I can see we are all unwanted here…" her eyes scanned the clearing, filled with regret, but she shook it away.

Leopard whispered, "but, Cheetah, where shall you go?"

We shall head north. There are rumors of different cats, more like us, but not quite. I'm sure they will welcome only nine small cats."

Heads started to drop in honored bows. Meadowflight whispered, "what shall they do with their dead?"

Breezesong turned around, eyes soft, and replied, "they will fade and protect this land, for all others who come to settle here. I'm sure of it." Suddenly Breezesong hesitated, not wanting to leave. But as her leader turned to depart forever, Breezesong knew she had to go. Touching noses with her friend, who seemed just as sad as she was, Breezesong turned and followed.

One cat called out to the fleeing clan, "what about the ancestors?"

Breezesong turned around once more, blue eyes brimming with tears. Ashe sat down, tail wrapped around her paws as if she was preparing for a long conversation.

"We have found ourselves a new set of ancestors. Their light calls to the north, away from these lands." With one last, longing glance at the crowd of cats, she stood up, and followed her clan into the undergrowth, never to feel the soft fields here again under there pads, until they walked here as spirits.

Breezesong and Cheetah raised their heads to the sky, looking east. A bright orange sun flared in the sky, promises of a new day. "This will spring forth a new generation." Murmured Cheetah, and they continued north, guided by their new ancestors.

The haunting spirits of the fallen wander their land, sentenced to spending eternity here, guardians.

And still as LionClan, LeopardClan, and TigerClan continued their lives, whenever they visited the moorland, all the cats swore they saw the fallen souls of those struck down in battle. The cheetahs had silvery pelts instead of the golden and spotted, stars in their fur. Some cats even said they saw four small kits wrestling, playing together, with their mother watching over.

And sometimes, during the warmer nights on a half-moon, legends whispered about speaking of the mysterious silver cat. The cat had almost the same look of a cheetah, but with more long and intricate markings along its body, and three long black stripes stretching from its head, down it's spine, and to the tail, which was pure black. The rest of the cat's fur that was not black was a silvery color, though it seemed to have been pale gold in a physical appearance.

And the dawn of light streamed in north, while 'twas midday for the ones left to live.

On silver nights, the spirits of the ancestors crept from their mystery of days, to wander the land.

Each half-moon, three chosen cats would honor the memory by traveling across the guarded territory, to seek guidance by the ancestors of their own.

Thus began the ceremony to journey to the sacred lands to share tongues with the ancestors.

Even now, the descendants of all these cats run and hunt, fight and play.

Blood, ancestors, and legends can be forgotten, but their spirits are always there.

My, have I had a quiet audience. Did you like the legend? No, I did not leave anything unsaid. Yes, the cheetahs did go north, and yes, they do have living kin. They formed with the think-pelted mountain cats, and now their blood also runs in the same system as the blood of say, a lion. What's that? Yes, all cats have at least one of the big cat's blood in their bodies.

The three remaining clans did form their own warrior code, but since Thunder, River, Sky, Shadow, and Wind had no record of it, they eventually had made their own, too.

The mysterious silver cat at the end of my tale was indeed the cheetahs new ancestors, though they weren't worshipped for long. When they met the mountain cats, they too had their own set of ancestors, but not all the cheetahs forgot about their own.

And yes, the four spirit kits at the end were indeed Larksong's kits. They do not roam StarClan, but instead are down on the land, forever forced to be there. That's their punishment for being innocent and dying in cold blood, their own blood, swimming it.

It seems my tale is up, but the legacy is not. Perhaps, maybe if you ask me for more, I shall speak more of the legends of the Ancient Clans.

Did you guys like it? I hope you did, this took a lot of time since it's so long. I also hope I didn't go a little overboard at the end, you know, with so many ancestors and stuff. I know the likeliness of this actually happening is like .000000001%, but I still wanted to share my idea. Yeah, CheetahClan is based roughly off of WindClan. I just wish Erin kept the forest in play, so I could make the cheetahs haunt WindClan! MWAHAHAHHAHA! *smoothes out my shirt, getting my cool*

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed, and as my narrator said, 'perhaps, maybe if you ask me for more, I shall speak more of the legends of the Ancient Clans.', if you guys want more, just ask (a.k.a. review).

P.S., the mysterious silver cat with the more blackish markings? That was a king cheetah. Originally I had the idea of using a serval, but I settled on king cheetah instead. Google 'em if you have no idea what I'm talking about. Thanks for reading!