*Author's note: This story consists entirely of original characters. It's sort of a Warriors spinoff, but not actually set in the Warriors universe. For one, you will note that StarClan has been replaced with the Maker. I have to thank my friend for creating the rp site where some of the characters came from.*

Annabel was not stupid.

She had seen it before; she had seen what the twolegs could do. So why had she not gotten out when she could? Every day, the weight in her belly, the movement of her kits, reminded her that it wasn't worth it, not the saucers of warm milk, not the fat, juicy rats in the grain; not even the companionship of Willow, the Persian in the twoleg nest; or Rye, her mate.
Maybe it was for Rye that she'd stayed. But even his presence was less of a comfort in the face of imminent disaster. She'd wanted to drag herself out to the forest and make a nest. Instead, when it was time, she'd only had enough strength to drag herself to the barn.

There, in a nest of hay behind the dead field monster, she birthed her first kits. The first one was brown and white like Rye, small, and female. She named her Linnet, after the small brown-and-white birds that sang in the wheat fields. The second was also female, black with blue eyes, like herself. Oak, after the solitary tree that grew in front of the twoleg nest. May she reach upward toward the sky, as blue as her eyes. The third was large, strong and male. He was brown, like his father, but there were streaks of black down his back that reminded her of the corn snakes she sometimes saw by the river. When he opened his eyes, they were emerald green.

"Linnet," She breathed. "Oak. Snake."

Five days she reared her young in secret behind the monster's rusting skeleton, venturing out only to catch mice. Five days of peace. And love. And despair. Rye did not appear, and she did not hold it against him. She would have done the same in his place.

On the morning of the sixth day, a twoleg entered the barn. Annabel gathered her kittens close about her, sweeping hay over them with her tail. A loner had once told her of something called Starclan. They were supposed to be a tribe of heavenly cats who watched over those on earth. She hoped they were real, because she was praying to them as hard as she had ever prayed in her life. She crouched and dug her claws into the straw.

"Mama."

Annabel shoved her tail-tip into Linnet's mouth.

"Mamma?"

Oak, no! "Shh."

The footsteps turned around.

A twoleg face was peering in from high above them. Annabel hissed loudly. If it was her kits they wanted, they were going to have to kill her first.

"Dangit! Mum, I tolja we shoulda got them cats fixed!"

David stomped back toward the house in his heavy boots. Mum couldn't hear him now, but she would soon. And now it would be his job to "take care of it".

Darn cats. He slammed the screen door so hard it rattled on its hinges, muttering something about, "the Queen of England". Of course, Jonathan would have to get a hold on Annabel first. She wasn't looking too happy. And he'd have to go hunting for a potato sack.

The River Newman was a wide slow current that flowed lazily past farms, houses, and woodlands, without sudden drops, steep inclines, or rapids for many miles. That, combined with the fact that Mrs. Landford's new potato supplier wove their bags out of plastic, was the only reason any of the kits were still alive at all when Emerald-fang spotted them bobbing on top of the water.

Garbage was in the stream often enough, but it was the mewling which attracted his attention. His ears flicked upright. It was unbelievable. The cries were coming from the knotted sack floating on the water's surface. "Twolegs," he spat before diving into the icy water.

It had happened before; a sack of kits had washed up on shore. But they were always dead. Green-star had always insisted on a proper burial whenever it happened. This time, though— could the kits be alive? Emerald-fang latched his teeth into the bundle and swum hard back toward shore.

On the bank, the sack writhed and squirmed and leaked water. Emerald-fang put his paw down on a corner and slashed it with his claws. It was tougher than usual. Perhaps that was why the kits were still alive. Finally, however, it gave way, and a dark brown male kit squirmed out and began coughing up water. He had to be less than a week old, and yet he must be unusually strong. This was good. Earth-clan appreciated strong warriors. Emerald-fang slashed the bag the rest of the way open. Two more kits lay inside. A black female, barely breathing. A brown and white female, dead.

Thanking the Maker that the two living kits were still small enough to pick up at the same time, he grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks and sprinted off as fast as he could in the direction of the Healer's den.

Snake opened his eyes slowly. His stomach still hurt, but at least he was warm and dry. Where was he? He scrambled shakily to his feet.

"Oh, look, he's awake," said a female voice from somewhere near by. Snake spun around. And what he saw made his heart freeze. Oak lay still, a distance away from him on a bed of leaves, her eyes were closed.

"Oak!" His voice came out in a strangled mew, and he coughed.

"She's alive, honey. She's going to be all right."

As if in reply, Oak gave a weak cough.

The she-cat who had spoken was sitting back on her haunches at the far end of the den, poking some leaves with her pale brown paw. "I've just given her some comfrey. She's coughed up a lot of water, but she'll recover soon. Do you feel alright?"

Snake hadn't understood everything, but he nodded and sat down, though he still glared at the dusty-colored she-cat suspiciously.

"I'm a Healer. I'm not going to hurt you. You don't have to be afraid."

"Not afraid."

"Well, that's good, then," replied the Healer. "The cat who rescued you and your sister will be here soon to see you. In the meantime just rest."

But Snake had remembered something. His other sister. "Lin!" He ran over to Oak and poked her with his paw. "Oak! Hey!"

Oak's eyelids fluttered open. "Snake," she murmured.

The Healer purred. "Your name is Snake?"

Snake growled. They didn't understand. How could he make them understand about Linnet? He didn't have the words to tell them. He poked Oak again. "Lin…net."

Oak-paw smiled, and curled up in a ball. "Hmmmsilly Snake. I Oak."

The Healer frowned, sadness in her eyes. "Oh… the other one."
"Linnet!" Snake demanded.

She fidgeted. "Honey… I'm sorry. Linnet didn't make it."

Snake blinked at her, not comprehending.

"Honey, Linnet… Linnet is dead."

The memories of kits are weak. Days turned into moons, and Snake-kit and Oak-kit forgot their mother. They knew their sister had existed, but memories faded as they matured like mist at sunrise. For another moon and a half, Rose-petal, one of the Queens whose kits had just finished nursing, raised them. Then she left the nursery.

Earth-clan valued strength, and Snake-kit was strong. While Oak-kit played with the other kits in the nursery, Snake-kit followed the apprentices around, asking them questions about battles and bothering them until they would show him fighting moves.

Oak-kit had a gentle, kind demeanor. She was always willing to help if something needed doing, and she would always be the one to break up play-fights if they turned mean. She was unusually bright for a kit, and she always knew if someone in the camp was injured.

Despite their dissimilarities, the siblings got on well together. Oak-kit had plenty of friends, and though he usually liked to keep to himself if he wasn't with the apprentices, Snake-kit would at least acknowledge anyone Oak-kit liked, which meant almost everyone. In the evenings Snake-kit would fall asleep with Oak-kit licking his pelt, purring as her smell turned to that of his mother's in his dreams. Their days in the clearing were long and sunny, filled with the warmth of love. Neither knew what lay ahead for them.

In the beginning the Maker created the sky and the earth.

The high mountains and hills he trod out with his paws, the sky he stretched out as a spiderweb. He breathed upon it and the stars appeared, he wove the forests together as cats weave a nest of twigs. Living creatures he made also: the squirrel and the crow, the fox and the twoleg. All living creatures were made by him, and cats not the least. He made the cat to walk tall and proud on the earth, and the ancient cats were yet taller and prouder than we, so that even the twolegs were awed by their beauty and grace.

Then one summer a great plague fell upon the earth. Enmity was sown among all beasts, so that even as cats killed cats, twolegs fell upon twolegs, cats on twolegs and twolegs on cats. The sky darkened and the Maker sent rain to quench the plague. All living creatures sat upon a great branch, and as the water swept away the death, yet two of every creature, male and female, survived.

When the water receded the cats multiplied, and their descendants were both great and small. They spread far and wide across the earth. And yet it was clear to them that the plague was not gone. So the six fathers of the Clans, Fire, Water, Earth, Grass, Snow, and Storm talked among themselves and prayed to the Maker to ask why the Plague was still among them. And the Maker answered and said: "It is not given unto cats that you should know this. Yet I will give you consolation. At the end of all days the plague will be destroyed. Until then, follow in my pawsteps and you shall have peace. Obey that which I command you, and when you die you will follow me to the skies to live forever. Now the six of you, divide whoever will follow you and create six Clans; that you may live in safety."

And so the six clans were created and lived in peace for many years.

Then the Clans rebelled.

Rather than the peace and safety which the Maker had intended, the Clans bickered with each other, and fought. The Maker commanded them to stop. He caused their healers to prophesy, to say they must cease fighting among themselves. But it did not end. Then Storm-Clan rose up and defied the Maker, and their pride was great on the earth. They attacked Snow-Clan, and drove them out, and killed many, and Snow-Clan was no more. And because they had dared to destroy that which the Maker had set up and wrongfully killed their fellow cats, the Maker caused a great rockslide to descend upon Storm-Clan's camp as they were celebrating their victory, and they were wiped out. Not a single cat remained. This is the example which the Maker has set up, that the Clans must live in peace. From that time forward the Maker decreed that the Clans which remained, Fire-Clan, Water-Clan, Grass-Clan, and Earth-Clan, must meet together at the full moon, and resolve all disputes peacefully. And so it has been from that time forward, until now.

This is the story of how the Maker created the earth and the Clans.