Fierce caterwauls split the night sky over the river as two groups dashed on its banks.

The first group broke from the dense undergrowth of the forest, leaping into the clearing as one mass of pelts washed silver in the pale moonlight. At their front stood their leader, a formidable dark brown tabby whose proud amber eyes scanned the clearing for any signs of movement. With an almost lazy flick of his tail, he sent the force of cats behind him backwards, their pelts brushing against the bracken they had just come through. His eyes narrowed, the muscles of his broad shoulders rippling and he dropped into a crouch.

The second group exploded from the river. Fur drenched from the swim, they lunged at the forest cats, bloodstained claws dully gleaming under the watchful eye of the moon. Their leader was a brown tabby as well, but with brighter undertones like an oak tree, and his eyes were softer than the opposite leader's harsh amber ones. He went straight for the head of the forest-dwelling group, aiming a light blow at the top of the dark brown tabby's head before sweeping his dark paws out from under him.

"Oakheart! How dare you hunt in our territory? The Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!" The larger tabby was pinned by his opponent's fierce claws, but he managed to work his hindpaws under him, and, with a hiss, kicked out and sent him flying. The lighter tabby landed neatly on his paws and bared his teeth.

"After tonight, Tigerclaw, this will be just another RiverClan hunting ground!" he spat in reply, water-heavy fur bristling. Tigerclaw's eyes narrowed, but before he could spit a curse at his opponent, a yowl from behind caused him to turn his head. A small, dusky-colored she-cat was pressed against the trunk of a tree, unable to retaliate as her much-larger enemy's claws rained blow after blow upon her. Without thinking, Tigerclaw sprang towards his Clanmate, ignoring the sharp pain as Oakheart's paw flashed out and caught his nose, tearing and splitting the tender skin as Tigerclaw ran past.

"Quick, Mousefur, run!" he growled, tackling the slender dark gray tom. The little she-cat didn't need to be told twice, fleeing into the shadows as Tigerclaw battled with the RiverClan cat. For all his bullying, it only took Tigerclaw a few attacks to finish him off, a sharp bite to his tail sending him yowling. Caught up in the heat of the battle, Tigerclaw looked around for the piece of foxdung known as Oakheart, savagery in every motion, but the tom seemed to have vanished. He spun around again, but this time his fiery amber eyes caught an unusual sight- a multicolored tom springing onto a nearby tree stump.

What in the name of StarClan is Redtail doing? thought Tigerclaw in irritation. From there, he's not going to be able to jump onto any RiverClan cats-

"Tigerclaw!" called the tortoiseshell-and-white tom. "There are too many RiverClan warriors! We have to retreat!"

"Retreat?" Tigerclaw's lip curled in disgust. "No! ThunderClan never retreats, Redtail!"

The ThunderClan deputy only gave him a grave look before turning away. Angrily, Tigerclaw leapt at a cream-colored RiverClan she-cat, sinking his claws into the thick fur around her shoulder but unable to get a grip. He leaned down, instead fastening his teeth in her forepaw, but a kick from her hindpaw dislodged him. Once more Tigerclaw prepared to attack, but he paused as Redtail's defeated yowl rang over the moonlit riverbank. "Retreat, ThunderClan! Retreat!"

There was a moment of perfect silence, as the battle below screeched to a halt- every cat seemed to hold their breath in anticipation. After a moment of motionless quiet, Oakheart moved forward, tabby pelt dark in the shadow of Sunningrocks. He clambered to its top, then let out an eerie cry of victory. Tigerclaw's fur stood on end as more RiverClan cats joined him, caterwauling their thanks to StarClan. He caught a glimpse of amber as Oakheart's eyes opened in slits, all smugness in his expression; then Redtail signaled the ThunderClan cats to turn back.

Tigerclaw naturally ended up near the back, being one of the last to leave the scene. He trotted forward to Redtail, then, keeping pace with the shorter tom, snarled, "Why did you do that? We could have crushed them!"

"You could have," replied Redtail evenly, not ruffled in the least. "But there were too many of them, and we have so little warriors right now." He gave a quiet sigh. "And the kits need time to grow. Even then, I fear for ThunderClan. We may need new blood if we are to survive." Without waiting for a response, Redtail abruptly pulled ahead and vanished into the undergrowth.

Two figures looked across the starlit clearing, a sense of helplessness echoing in the space between their hearts. The cold warriors of StarClan glittered above, standing out against the night sky and dimly lighting the Clan below. A silence had fallen as the bedraggled group, limping and bleeding, moved throughout the camp, heads bowed. They had all been treated for their wounds, but it would be some time before many of the warriors recovered enough to hunt and patrol once more. Of the pair above them, the taller gazed skyward, praying to the warriors of StarClan over their heads that this would be the last battle her Clan would have to suffer. The smaller merely gazed at her leader, amber eyes full of worry.

"Spottedleaf, why haven't StarClan spoken to us? Have we done something wrong?" the first she-cat meowed. She opened her blue eyes as though it cost her a great effort; they were dull and tired as she turned to her medicine cat.

"I'm sure they're trying their best. Our ancestors would never turn their backs on us," Spottedleaf purred, trying her best to reassure the noble blue-furred she-cat. There was no reply, and silence stretched for several heartbeats until at last the leader asked, "How is Mousefur?"

"Her wounds are deep, Bluestar," said Spottedleaf cautiously, "but she is young and strong. She will recover quickly."

"Good." Bluestar sighed, lowering her head. "Leafbare has been so harsh already. We cannot afford to lose a single warrior more…" Spottedleaf did not dare reply, but her dappled tail skimmed over her leader's pelt, a sign of comfort and reassurance. Both she-cats resumed their thoughtless stargazing, but a few heartbeats later the young tortoiseshell went rigid, as if frozen. Her eyes widened, a starlike gleam entering their amber depths as if reflecting the stars above. Her breathing slowed, then stopped, and she began to shake, fur bristling out. As soon as her fit had come, it was over, and her fur slowly flattened, although she retained that starry, dazed look for a few more moments.

"One stripe will be all that can hold the Clan up," Spottedleaf mewed quietly. Her still-wide eyes scanned the sky, perhaps searching for any more clues as to what she had just seen.

"What?" Bluestar asked, dread suddenly settling in her gut. Was something wrong with the she-cat beside her?

"It was a prophecy. The stars in the sky turned to streaks like stripes and I heard cats whispering to me. A single stripe will keep our Clan from falling." Her words were barely even a whisper on her breath, and her attention was still fixed on the night sky above.

"What in the name of StarClan does that even mean?" Bluestar dug her claws into the cool grass beneath her. The half-frozen ground seemed to be an echo of the cold desperation that was rapidly blooming within her. She wanted so badly to understand what was happening, and why.

"I don't know," came Spottedleaf's hesitant, distant reply. "Maybe the stripes in the stars will guide us somewhere. Maybe there will be an odd stripe on a tree or on a piece of fresh-kill, or even a striped cat; maybe it will be a badger…There are so many possibilities." Spottedleaf sighed and turned towards Bluestar. "I just wish StarClan would be more clear…" She lowered her head and stood up at last, and Bluestar watched as she walked back to her den, white tail-tip vanishing into the shadow.