DISCLAIMER: I do not own Warriors, unfortunately. However, I DO own all characters in this story, as well as the Clans and plotline.
Prologue
The full moon shone brightly above the forest, casting everything in silver light and shifting shadows. In a den in a camp in the forest, a beautiful pale cream she-cat with amber eyes lay. At her belly rested three newborn kits.
Two other cats, a tom and a she-cat, sat next to the pretty queen, their eyes shining as they gazed at the three kits.
"Oh, Mosspelt, they're gorgeous," purred the tom, a sleek brown tabby with gray-blue eyes, whose pelt glistened with starlight. "What will you name them?"
The queen thought for a moment, then pointed her tail at the first kit, a fiery red-orange she-cat with green eyes. "This one will be Breezekit," she pointed at the second kit, a pale cream she-cat like herself, with the blue-gray eyes of her father. "This one will be Galekit," Mosspelt's tail rested on the third kit's head, a dark brown tom with amber eyes. "And this one will be Oakkit."
"Those are excellent names." The tom purred happily, giving each of his kits a lick.
"Galekit has your mates' eyes," the third cat, an ancient tabby she-cat, commented to the queen. "And your fur."
"And Oakkit has your eyes, and my fur," the tom added to his mate.
"They're all lovely…" Mosspelt let out a content sigh. "So how do they look, Shellspots?" she asked the tabby she-cat, who was CallistoClan's medicine cat.
"Wonderful. They're healthy and strong, like you." She rose and headed for the entrance of the nursery. "Your mate would be proud if he were here now. I'm going to go get you some borage," she mewed, heading out.
Once the medicine cat was gone, the tom turned to his mate, his eyes soft and sad. "Mosspelt, I'm afraid I must leave you again. But remain strong for our kits' sake."
Mosspelt gazed at the tom adoringly. "I will. I promise I will. Will I see you again? Do you really have to leave?"
"I'm afraid so, but yes, you will see me again when the time comes for you to join me among the stars. But that time is not yet." He looked longingly at first his mate and then his kits, his gaze resting on one in particular. "But before I go, I must tell you something. One of these kits is the one StarClan foretold about in the ancient prophecy. Remember the words, 'One will be born who shall save the forest from the Greatest Storm.' Remember the words, and know, the kit has come." The starry warrior began to fade, leaving only a slight shimmer in the air where he had sat a moment before.
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