A/N: I do not own the concept of Warriors, nor do I own some of the clans mentioned. The only things I own are the plot, a majority of the cats, and the non-canon clans.
P.S: I was going to make this prologue a two-parter, but that seemed a little weird so I kept them both together. Expect the actual chapters to be shorter.
He blinked, watching the few clouds that were in the sky slowly drift away. The stars and the moon were the only light that shined, meaning that it was, or maybe even later than, midnight. A terrible time for any warrior to be awake at.
He sighed and lowered his head. It was impossible to open his eyes to something other than darkness and the soft breathing of his clanmates. It won't be long before the sun rises he thought bitterly, letting out another, more exasperated, sigh.
Something stirred beside him, and he quickly glanced to his right. Peering through the night were the yellow eyes of a dark brown tabby.
"Something wrong?" she asked, blinking.
"Can't sleep," he answered simply, "Sorry if I woke you."
The she-cat grinned, her eager tone betraying her tired looks, "No problem. Wanna go hunting or something?"
The tom's eyes widened slightly, feeling both surprised and maybe even a little relieved. "You don't have to go with me, you know."
"Nonsense," the tabby purred, "I think you and your sighing definitely don't want to stay in here a moment longer."
His only response was a purr, and the she-cat nodded, already on her paws.
The tom stood up, examining the shapes that were clustered around him, not a single one white. Good. he thought, glad to know that he wouldn't be snuck up on by a certain snow prowler. She was a good apprentice, but sometimes he wondered if being a house-cat would stop her from ever being a true warrior.
A small thud snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked around for it's source, only to realize that it was just the tabby. She smirked, and flicked her tail before carefully weaving her way to the outside. He quickly, and quietly, followed soon after, feeling his fur grow hot. Why do I always get sidetracked so easily?
When he finally got past the heap of cats and reached the outside, the she-cat had already disappeared through the entrance. Guessing that she wasn't going to wait for him, he quickened his pace and caught up to her.
"Looking for your kit?" the tabby teased.
His pelt prickled. "Of course. I don't like getting snuck up on every time I try to get some time to myself."
"Oh, lighten up, furball!" she meowed, adding in a small hint of playfullness to her voice, "You should really learn to stop letting others get under your pelt."
He blinked in surprise. "How did you notice?" How can anyone see so well in darkness like this?
She stopped abrubtly, and turned to look at him with open jaws. He waited for her to answer, but instead, she raised her nose to the sky. "Squirrel," she whispered, her eyes sparkling, "Stay here!" And before he could even respond, her tabby pelt had already disappeared deeper into the forest.
It wasn't much long later when the tom heard a branch snap, and he rose to his paws. He expected the she-cat to emerge from the darkness with the lifeless body of a squirrel, but only heard silence. "Willow?" he called out, shaking his head almost immediately after. No. She would never do this sort of thing.
He sniffed, and reeled back in disgust. There was a strong and almost overpowering scent of mud lingering around the air, which made him wonder what kind of mouse-brained cat had fallen into the river. And then, it hit him. Feather! "Come out," he ordered, tired of the former kittypet's annoying games.
The tom's eyes widened as the large shape of a black cat with darkened yellow eyes stepped out and edged itself closer to him. "FenceClan scum!" it hissed, tackling the tom to the ground. He felt teeth sink into his neck, and he panicked, kicking the cat with all his strength. The cat went flying, and the tom wasted no time scrambling to his paws. He saw the cat gasping for air, and launched himself forward, pinning the cat to the ground. He copied the cat's earlier move, and within a few heartbeats it stopped struggling. The tom stepped off of the cat, horrofied. What just happened?!
He heard leaves rustle behind him, and spun around. There's more?! He realized that he must'ave looked like a frightened kit, and twisted his face into a snarl. There might be a lot of cats waiting for me. I can't let them think that I'm scared!
He unsheathed his claws and then sprang, sinking them into whatever he hit. He heard a shriek, and for a small moment he felt satisfaction. He readied his fangs and then-
froze. Staring back up at him were frightened light blue eyes with small gray specks surrounding them.
"Feather!" he meowed, feeling both relieved and angry. He stepped off of her. "What are you doing here?! You nearly got yourself killed!"
Feather remained where she lay, shaking harder then he had after being attacked. "I-I was gonna sneak up on you, but on the way I s-smelled blood and s-so I ran as fast as I could!"
The tom looked back at the black cat, and saw that there was very little blood. He felt confused, and sniffed. Why is the scent so strong? I'm barely injured and-
"Where's Willow?"
With eyes as big as the moon, he took off, running at full speed. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay! he repeated those words in his mind over and over, praying that he was just overreacting. But as the scent of blood began to grow stronger, he felt his hope begin to fade.
He felt everything come to a halt. In front of him was a clearing drenched in a sea of crimson, and in the middle of it was the limp body of Willow.
He could hear pawsteps thundering toward him, followed by a scream. The same voice shouted something, but he didn't care enough to listen. Willow was dead. The one that he had been best friends with for as long as he could remember, the one who he had hoped would one day agree to be his mate, was gone.
He stared at her blankly, disbelief and grief clouding his gaze. But suddenly a small movement snapped him out of it, and he blinked in surprise. He watched, until he saw it again. She was breathing!
His paws seemed to float as he raced over to her and crouched down by her side. There was a large gash on her belly, and her eyes were closed. He reached his paw out to touch her stomach, but out of fear he pulled it back. He didn't want to risk making her injury worse.
He stood up, frantically glancing around at his surroundings. He had to find something that would save her, but what if what he used ended up killing her?
Suddenly, he heard pawsteps coming toward him and turned his head. Two cats burst into the clearing, and with a feeling of joy he recognized them as Soot, the medicine cat, and Feather.
Soot, without saying a single thing, rushed up to him and pushed him out of the way before laying down to get a better look at Willow. Soot stared at her for a few seconds before standing up. The tom couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"Aren't you going to do something?!"
"No." Soot meowed flatly. "She can't be saved."
No! "At least try!" he pleaded. Medicine cats are supposed to be special cats with powers! What is she doing?!
Soot barely acknowledged him as she turned to Feather. "Clean up this mess," she ordered.
Feather looked horrorfied, but didn't say anything. Soot snorted, murmurring something that the tom could barely hear. "You should have never let her go alone."
He watched as Soot padded away, an unexpected surge of anger rising up in him. Why didn't she save her?!
He felt something press up against him, and looked down to see Feather's wide and sympathetic eyes. "You okay?"
"Yes," he lied, moving his eyes away from hers. Instead, he found himself staring at Willow, whose flank was still. But this time, she was really dead. I didn't get a chance to talk to her.
Those words seemed to grow louder as he pushed himself forward, laying down beside her. He buried his nose in her fur, going through the different scents in his head. Oak, moss... He didn't get a chance to finish as he noticed the terrible stench of mud. He remembered that it was almost exactly like the cat that had nearly killed him, and, without warning, something repeated in his head.
You should have never let her go alone.
Suddenly it all crashed down on him. It wasn't Soot's fault, it was his. If he had never sighed she would still be in her nest, safe. If he had stopped her from getting the squirrel, she would be padding with him right now. If he had chased after her, they would have had a better chance at defeating the cats.
It was all his fault.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, burying his nose deeper into her fur. "I'm a monster."
Flat moorland spread out in front of her, making it feel like her destination was miles away. The tall grass made the territory ruthless, as it hid sharp rocks that were always out to get her. After this, she knew that her paws would hurt for a long while.
She trudged up a hill, and relief flooded through her as she saw the dip in the ground below. The camp! She excitedly reached out a paw to step down, but froze when she realized how high up she was. How do they get down without falling?
A calico apprentice zipped past her, chasing a rabbit, and she wondered if it would be a good idea to ask for help. The obvious answer to herself was no, since that would be too embarrassing.
She braced herself, and stepped onto the closest ledge to her. She saw another one below, and placed her paws on it. This is easy!
Suddenly, something slammed into her and she was in the air. She let out a screech, and before she could even find out what was happening, found herself buried in dirt, with a huge weight on top of her.
"Got the intruder!" someone shouted, who she guessed was the one on top of her.
"Halfpaw!" another cat shouted. "Get off of her!"
Halfpaw crouched down, and then sprang off of her, proving her assumption to be correct. She felt someone gently pick her up by the scruff, and she shakily stood up. All eyes were on her, and she pretended to clean her fur, feeling embarrassed.
"You shouldn't be causing trouble when kits are being born!"
The she-cat couldn't help but look to see who was speaking. It was a pretty light gray tabby with spots and dark brown eyes.
"What if one of them died and got lost? What if you were responsible for a kit never finding it's home in the afterlife?" she continued.
At that, Halfpaw looked crestfallen. "Sorry," he mumbled, picking up a rabbit and dropping it at the she-cat's feet. "You can have this." He padded away with his ears drooped, and the she-cat noticed that most of the clan's eyes were on him now, and felt at ease. She watched Halfpaw sit next to a white tom staring down into a pool of water, and the tom glanced up at Halfpaw with a glare before returning his gaze to the pool.
The she-cat picked up the rabbit, and looked back at the spotted tabby.
"Sorry about that," she mewed, "Kits that come here are almost always undisciplined." Her eyes flashed, and she pointed her tail to a brown tabby. "Oh, yeah! You're probably looking for Mudstar, right? She's over there."
The she-cat meowed a muffled, "Thanks," and headed over to Mudstar, who, luckily, seemed to be enjoying a sunbath. Good the she-cat thought, Maybe she won't react too badly this time.
The she-cat edged close enough for her shadow to block out some of the sunlight. "Mudstar?" she mewed.
The leader opened her eyes and blinked in surprise. "Crowheart?" she asked, standing up. "What are you doing in WindClan?"
Crowheart dropped the rabbit and nudged it closer to Mudstar. "I have important news," she mewed, keeping her voice low so that the others wouldn't hear. On the outside, she sounded brave, but on the inside she was as terrified as a kit during battle. "Can we speak somewhere less crowded?"
Mudstar tilted her head slightly, but didn't didn't question her. She picked up the rabbit and headed toward a small slope, which seemed to have the only grass that touched the inside of the camp. Crowheart followed closely behind, silently scolding herself for not noticing this entrance before.
Soon, they reached a small hole in the ground, and Mudstar easily slipped into the inside. Crowheart frowned, wondering why she had chosen something so little, but followed after her without any comments. The tunnel was long and uncomfortable, but Crowheart quickly discovered that there was a much larger den inside and felt relieved. Once she saw Mudstar, however, the relief quickly vanished.
"What is it this time?"
Crowheart closed her eyes for a few seconds, and took a deep breath, then opened them again. "Willow was killed."
"Alright."
Crowheart waited a few moments, but when Mudstar did not continue she was almost too shocked to speak. "Alright?" she sputtered. Mudstar had said short replies before, but they were always accompanied by anger. Something as simple as "Alright" was enough to make anyone who knew her think that she had gone crazy.
"I already made my decision a while ago. I'm actually a little glad that you came, so now I won't have to wait till morning to tell you."
Crowheart's eyes lit up. Yes! We're going to try again! "Who will we contact? I want the black one, she'll have a better-"
"Are you mad?!" Mudstar snarled, causing Crowheart to stumble backward in surprise. At that, the leader's gaze softened, but she didn't apologize.
"Contacting them would result in yet another, painful, death. I do not want anyone else to go through what you did," Mudstar meowed, her tone stern. "My decision is for StarClan to abandon them."
Crowheart's jaw dropped. "Mudstar, you can't! All we need to do is-" Mudstar's tail slammed onto Crowheart's muzzle, silencing her.
"Enough. My choice is final. Their territory will remain in StarClan, but no one will light their path. We have tried everything, and it is obvious that that clan cannot be saved. We already have our clans to deal with, and don't need another burden on our paws."
"But," Crowheart desperately tried to argue, but Mudstar had already disappeared through the entrance, leaving her behind.
A/N: I'd just like to mention that I am terribly sorry for anyone that saw the old version of this. That prologue was rushed, and ended up being a disaster. The only good thing about it is that it taught me to never, ever, ever, rush something again.
Oh, and by the way, some of the cats in this story are based off of cats that I own/owned/know in real life. The ones that have long descriptions are probably the most noticeable. ^_^'