We interrupt this prologue to bring you breaking news: the author Excophous, formerly known as Toxic PhlameZ, is not dead.

So, uhh, first off… hello. How long has it been, a year? I doubt anyone actually remembers I exist, and those that do must be extremely upset with me. To put things bluntly, I am back and writing at full force now; I have several projects I want to work on. I took a break from FF to catch up with my life and enjoy it a little, but things got a little stale and, in the words of the great Maya Angelou: "There is no greater agony than keeping an untold story inside you."

So, with that said, here you go:


[Prologue]

It should be noted that the war was really nobody's fault in particular. When the Clans: ThunderClan, WindClan and ShadowClan settled here, they believed they had all they could ever ask for. Naturally, the three Clans split, each group finding their own home in the three dividends of the territory. For a time, they were happy, and everyone lived in peace. But as some say: there is no such thing as peace, only intervals between wars.

It started when ShadowClan realized the marshland on which they lived was not what they had expected. Though they had adapted to living in soggy environments, this swamp of a territory was nowhere near as hospitable as their old home. The soil here could trap water like something you would not believe, making flooding all too common. Prey was scarce, if anything, and eventually you get tired of eating nothing but slimy lizards and wart-ridden toads.

Next came WindClan. At first glance, their territory was hospitable enough, if you didn't count the abundancy of sinkholes that appeared almost every day. Though pretty, the soil in WindClan's territory was anything but solid – you never knew when you would sink through the earth, never to be heard from again.

The only Clan not afflicted with any territorial shortcomings was ThunderClan. The forest had many trees, perfect for encouraging plentiful prey, and the large oaks bathed them in a cooling, refreshing dark. The territory was perfect, the inhabitants growing fat on its riches.

It was not long before the other Clans grew jealous of ThunderClan. While they starved and struggled, their neighbor stuffed themselves and grew complacent. Though ruffled, ShadowClan and WindClan believed democratic measures should be taken first, and they politely asked ThunderClan for a chunk of their territory. The forest was vast and bountiful, why could they not enjoy it as well?

It came as a shock to both when ThunderClan refused. The conditions of the forest had led to a dramatic increase in population, and they now had mouths they needed to feed. ThunderClan claimed they had their own problems, and they had no room for the others.

To say the other two Clans were furious would be an understatement. They tried to be peaceful in their persisting to persuade ThunderClan, but over time their hunger and resentment grew; and desperation and logic are seldom allies.

It was then that WindClan and ShadowClan formed a temporary alliance, now referring to themselves as StormClan. They promised to eradicate ThunderClan and split the territory amongst themselves.

At first, ThunderClan dominated them. They had numbers, and they were well-fed and strong. StormClan was weak and ravaged by hunger, its merciless claws taking life after life. Soon, StormClan's numbers dwindled to almost nothing, and ThunderClan assumed they were beaten.

What they didn't account for, however, is the fundamental law of nature: self-preservation.

When faced with the threat of death, you never know what you'll do to survive…