[Prologue]
"She's been buried for a few days now, Tawnypelt." Littlecloud spoke softly to the tortie she-cat. "I know it was a shock to us all, but you'll have to return to your duties soon."
There was a somber air in the shared clan camp as cats went about their business. Shadowclan warriors sat crouched under ferns as they gossiped among themselves, bitterness in their eyes. Foxes had attacked the Gathering by the lakeshore and although most came out relatively unharmed, Rowanclaw had been killed.
"I know," Tawnypelt sighed, shoulders slumping. "But I still can't get over the look on her face as that vixen crushed her spine. What an awful way to die." She shook her head, trying to chase the memories away.
"Do you have nightmares?" The small tom asked gently. "I could always give you thyme if need be."
Tawnypelt shook her head again, giving him a grateful smile. "It's fine. We're all still weak from the journey and we don't know the whole territory yet. It's better if you don't waste your herbs."
Standing up, the warrior padded away from the temporary camp. 'Perhaps it is time I try to do something for the clans.' She thought with a flick of her tail. 'I don't need Blackstar thinking I've become a pathetic mess.' Tawnypelt snorted at the mere thought of that.
As she made her way through the forest, her thoughts slowly returned to that dreadful night. The unease between all the clans being in unfamiliar territory, the panic as the foxes attacked and that horrified expression upon Rowanclaw's face as she was killed. Tawnypelt had been friends with the red she-cat. They often trained together and had frog-hunting competitions with their fellow warriors.
'And now...' She paused, her claws slowly sinking into the grass. Without realizing it, her paws had lead her to the burial ground where Rowanclaw's body had been laid to rest. Slowly she padded up to the still-fresh mound. Someone had left an offering of raven feathers on the grave. Tawnypelt sighed as she sat in front of it.
"It's not fair," She growled half-heartedly. "Nobody else had died- barely anyone had any serious injuries at all! And yet..." The tortie bowed her head. "You didn't deserve to die..."
She had been sitting, grieving quietly for a while when a foreign scent hit her nose. It was neither clan cat nor any of the kittypets that resided nearby. She raised her head sharply.
"Who are you?-" She hissed only for her voice to die in her throat at the sight.
Red tabby fur. A lithe yet muscular frame. Those fern-green eyes.
A cat was standing before her, looking like as if Rowanclaw herself had come down from Starclan. But there was one major difference.
It was a tom.
"Uh... My name is Roan." He spoke, eyeing her with wary in his gaze. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding but... I just saw you and I was wondering if you were okay or..." He trailed off awkwardly, glancing away.
Tawnypelt- still in shock -slowly padded up to him. She stared at him from ear tips to toes. His markings weren't the exact same of course if one looked closely, but despite his gender, he was almost a complete copy. Had he been a kit, she could almost believe that he was the warrior herself reincarnated.
But a fully grown cat found at the burial site of a warrior who he looks exactly like? This was just bizarre.
"Where are you from, Roan?" She asked slowly, her shock fading.
The tom met her intense stare with curiosity. "I'm a wanderer from across the woods," He explained. "I was born on a farm and well... I just ended up here." He looked past her into the undergrowth-chocked forest. "Some housecats were complaining about a bunch of wild cats moving in around the lake, so I wanted to check it out."
His expression then shifted to one of caution and he backed away from her a step. "I'm not intruding on your territory or something, am I?" He flattened his ears defensively. "Because I will fight if you challenge me!"
Tawnypelt snorted in amusement, her tail tip flicking him on the nose. "Calm down, furbrain." She teased. "We haven't determined who's gonna live where yet, so you're fine- for now that is!" She hissed playfully, to which he scoffed.
"What do you mean 'we'?" He tilted his head. "Are there others?"
The tortie nodded, sitting down. "There's four clans. I'm part of Shadowclan, my name's Tawnypelt." She informed with a swish of her tail. "We've traveled from very far away. We lost our old home to twolegs and not all of us made it." She glanced towards Rowanclaw's grave.
Roan followed her stare and nodded slowly. "I get what you mean... I used to travel with my half-brother, Ruddy." He stared down at his paws. "But he died last season... Some kind of illness got him."
Tawnypelt gazed at him with sympathy. She knew what it felt like to lose a sibling, even if her brother hadn't exactly died. Sometimes she found herself longing to see Brambleclaw again, but both of them had made their decisions and were happy with their clan. The tortie was about to speak again when she froze. 'Wait... Why am I telling this loner everything?' She felt a twinge of irritation at herself. 'I only just met him!' And yet... She felt a certain familiarity with the red tom. Was it just because he looked like her old friend?
She leaped to her paws as she came to a decision. "Hey, Roan?" He perked up at the mention of his name. "Do you want to meet my clan?"
Surprise took over his expression as he stared at her. "I... I'd be honoured if you'd introduce me but... Do you think it'd be okay?.." He glanced back towards the woods he came from, unsure of whether or not he should stay or go.
Tawnypelt trotted up to him, resting her pale tail tip on his shoulder. "Trust me, Blackstar is going to want to meet you." She reassured. Roan still seemed wary, but nodded.
"I'm guessing that's your leader." He mewed slowly.
"Mhm. Although Firestar and the rest of Thunderclan likes to boss everyone around as well." She scoffed, turning and heading back into the forest. Roan followed her quickly, giving one last glance at Rowanclaw's grave.
"So... Who was that? Your friend?" He asked quietly. The tortie did not answer for a moment, her mind racking over what had just happened. Perhaps this foreign tom was a sign from Starclan. It couldn't be mere coincidence that he looked just like the deceased warrior.
"Yeah," She answered after a moment. "Her name was Rowanclaw."
[Author's Note]
Just an idea/theory I had idk
I'll keep updating it, but probably not as regularly as my normal series