Lostclan

Guide: Oakstar- a strong, quiet dark brown tom

Deputy: Nettlepelt- a tawny she-cat with golden eyes and scars on her body

Healer: Cloudrunner- a white and grey tom with long legs

Apprentice- Bristlepaw- a light grey, loud tom

Fighters:

Aspenpelt- a strong tabby tom with bright eyes

Petalfur- a small dappled she-cat

Duskheart- a fierce dark grey tom

Longscar- a ruffled she-cat with a long, bright scar down her back
Apprentice: Thrushpaw

Mottlefur- a light ginger tom with

Whitewhisker- a dusky white tom
Apprentice: Poppypaw

Silverstorm- a pretty she-cat with shinning silver fur

Apprentice:

Poppypaw- a light tabby she-cat

Thrushpaw- a dark brown tom with golden eyes

Queens:
None

Elder:

Lionclaw- a deep golden tom, the last of the original travelers.

Kits found:

Ravenkit- light black she-cat with golden eyes

Ashkit- fast dark brown tabby tom

Sagekit- a small brown and white tom

Prologue:

"Listen, I know I smelled fox scent here on patrol, I'm not making this up," Mottlefur insisted, touching his paw at the roots of a large pine tree. "It was right after Thrushpaw decided he needed to try climbing this pine tree to catch a sparrow. At the base of the tree there was the scent of fox."

Longscar turned her head to her apprentice, "Thrushpaw, did you smell anything?" Her voice was smooth, compared to the large jagged scar that down her back between her shoulders and almost down to the base of her tail.

The dark brown apprentice shrugged his shoulders. "No, but I wasn't trying to smell for fox, I just wanted to catch the sparrow."

Mottlefur scoffed. "Fine, but when a fox attacks our camp don't come yowling to me."

Longscar sighed. "I'm sure if it is around the day patrols will find the scent and try to lure it away from the camp. We will be safe, like we have been for all the moons I can remember."

Thrushpaw scuffled in anticipation, "Do you think we will come across it today?" he flexed his claw, ready for a fight.

There was a rustling in the bushed behind them, and a sleek silver she-cat stepped through. "No scent by the edge of the forest! The stream does look refreshing today, how about we try catching some fish while we are here?"

Longscar nodded, "Good idea Silverstorm. Thrushpaw could use more practice in his fish hunting."

Thrushpaw jumped next to his mentor, "Yes! I promise I won't fall in this time."

Longscar cuffed his ear lightly, purring in amusement, "Good, I'm sure your fellow clanmates don't need to be splashed with river water again."

The group of four cats made their way through the pine forest, their paws lightly springing over the nettles that had fallen on the forest floor in preparation for the colder moons approaching. They were quick, a memory of the four clans that they had left behind. One cat was quick, light footed, and ready to run through the open moors. One was sleek and quiet, her fur flashing like the rivers her ancestors had thrived upon. One cat was a strong fighter, sticking to the shadows for cover and on alert for a fight. Lastly, the youngest was still learning, but his body was strong and fierce, at home in the forest around him.

As the trees thinned, the forest floor started to turn from dirt and into the wet ground that surrounded, with pebbles and rocks scattered in between. The rocks led up to a stream that flowed and bubbled as it tumbled over the rocks below the water, creating areas of clam water with small waterfalls with each dip to the next landing. The sound made Silverstorm's ear prick.

Thrushpaw ran up to the water, slowing down and peering over the edge, looking for small fish to practice on. "I think I see some!"

"You're going to scare all the fish away yelling into the water like that!" Silverstorm called back, trotting over the young tom.

The wind rustled through the brushes that were near the edge of the stream, and the direction of the breeze changed, sending a scent to Longscar that was all too familiar.

"There's blood." She mewed, turning her head to the direction of the scent.

Mottlefur stopped, following the gaze of his clanmate. Further down the stream, the water was running red, the mangled body of a cat lying by its edge. "We have to go help the cat."

Longscar turned to the tom, "Wait her with Thrushpaw and Silverstorm, I'm going down to see if the cat needs help. Whatever hurt them may still be lurking around, be alert. If you see anything, send Silverstorm and Thrushpaw back to camp to get help."

Mottlefur opened his mouth to protest, but thought better. Longscar was an experienced fighter, and he turned and rushed over to the other cats, telling them of the situation.

Longscar carefully made her way up to the body. Her ears were alert, and footsteps light, careful not to make a sound. She listened to the stream, the movement the grass made when the wind rustled through, for any other sounds of danger around her. Eventually the smell of blood is what overtook her.

Then there was the smell of fox. It seeped into the ground around the body of the cat. As Longscar came closer, she saw that it was a dark black she-cat, her fur matted with her blood. Longscar listened close to her mouth for breathing, but felt no warmth escape the she-cat's mouth. She was dead. The fox that Mottlefur had probably smelled had killed this poor cat.

"Where did you come from?" Longscar asked. "What happened to you?"

The grey she-cat looked around, trying to find answers of the attack.

Nearby, in the bushes, there was the sound of rustling. Longscar crouched down, sliding her claws into the pebbles and mud. Her muscles tensed, ready to strike.

There was a faint mewling sound.

Longscar paused, confused. Did the fox have kits? Is that why it attacked the she-cat?

The faint mewling sound happened again.

Those aren't fox kits, Longscar thought. She quickly made her way over, concern rushing through her body. She made her way through the thicket, pushing her body through the thorns in order to reach the sounds.

Hidden in the middle were the shapes of three small kits, huddled together and looking for their mother.