Chapter 1: The Prophecy
Runningstream pushed passed the large leaf that covered the entrance to Smallstar's den. His large brown eyes were full of worry, tail twitching. Smallstar looked up at his entrance, getting to her paws immediately.
"What's wrong, Runningstream?" she asked, tilting her head. He began to pace back and forth in front of her.
"I had a dream from StarClan," he meowed. Immediately, Smallstar sighed, sitting down. He noticed her dismissing attitude and stopped, an indigant look on his face. "This one is real this time!"
"Very well," she sighed. "What is it now?"
"One of Tigerheart's kits, one of the white ones. It's going to become evil when it grows older." Pausing, an amused expression crossed Smallstar's face.
"They were just born this sunhigh," she meowed. "They're just kits; kits aren't evil."
"Hence the grows older. I'm serious this time. There was a prophecy; Kin of Tigers, as it grows, the white one shall grow dark, blood from the innocently slayed staining it's paws." He looked concerned.
"Dear StarClan, Runningstream," Smallstar muttered, rolling her eyes. "I seem to remember a similar prophecy coming from StarClan, as you said. Something about FireClan attacking us." Runningstream felt his skin get hot under his pelt.
"That was a mistake,"
"Yes, a mistake that nearly led me and several other of our clanmates to declare war on FireClan for no good reason!"
"But, I'm sure of it this time!" he snapped, narrowing his eyes. He whirled around, stalking out of the den.
"Bluepaw better break you out of your paranoia soon, or so help me, Runningstream-!" The medicine cat was out of earshot before she finished her sentence. It would have been an empty threat anyway; paranoid as he was, he was a good medicine cat.
He considered going into the medicine cat's den, but changed his mind, heading instead for the nursery. He poked his head inside, his eyes drawn immediately to the three sleeping bundles curled near Tigerheart's belly. The she-cat looked up at him with sleepy eyes, pure joy on her face.
"Come to see the new arrivals?" she asked, yawning. He nodded, looking over the kits.
"Have you named them yet?" He kept his voice low, not wanting to awake the sleeping Snowbelly. Tigerheart nodded, and pointed her nose at the first one, an exact copy of her.
"This is Streak-kit," she murmured, a loving tone in her voice. She went on to the next one, white with a black mask-like marking around it's eyes. "Nightkit," She then pointed to the last one, white with reddish-brown paws. Runningstream froze, the prophecy echoing in his head. "And Icekit." She then drew her tongue over all three of them, curling her body tighter around theirs.
"Beautiful names," he meowed. She nodded, yawning again. He dipped his head to her, backing out of the den. His movements were a bit wobbly as he made his way back to the medicine cat den. Bluepaw was there, watching as his mentor padded in. He rolled onto his back, opening his mouth for a moment before deciding not to speak.
"You should be going to bed soon," Runningstream advised. Bluepaw sighed, licking his paw and drawing it over his blue-gray ear. "We're getting up early tomorrow, so we can go pick some marigold anf get some moss; we're running short."
"Yes, Runningstream," Bluepaw meowed in a flat tone, rolling over and curling his long plume of a tail around his body, tucking his nose under it. The den was soon filled the sounds of the young cat's gentle snoring. Sighing, Runningstream curled up in his own nest, staring out into the dark, nearly silent camp.
Kin of Tiger, as it grows, the white one shall grow dark, blood from the innocently slayne staining it's paws. It rang in his mind as clearly as when he first heard it. Why did Smallstar never believe him?
Because you're always saying that you've recieved sign from StarClan, when in reality it's nothing more than a simple everyday occurence, a small voice in the back of his head told him. He sighed again, putting a paw over his muzzle.
"This one was real," he muttered. "I know it is. I know who it is as well." He then closed his eyes, laid on his side, and soon the gentle wave of sleep crashed over him. Before he was completely unconcious, the voice in the back of his mind said one last thing.
We'll see...
I'd like to know; what's with me and not being able to surpass 750 words without help from the author's note -_-
Ugh... anyway, new story. Yay. Hope you enjoyed.
Disclaimer: Warriors belongs to Erin Hunter.