A/N: Hi! Well, I was reading Secrets of the Clans, the part about StarClan, you know, and the part where Lionheart talks to you, then the Snowfur Speaks part inspired this. Try to guess from whose POV this is in. He speaks to a Tribe of Rushing water she-kit.

I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. Big surprise, huh? O.O

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Follow the moonlight through your dreams. Follow them to the edges of the skies, to the ends of the worlds. I can feel the stars calling, tugging at your heart, feel the sweet pain of desire. It tugs at mine, too. Do you wish to be a medicine cat? Do the whispers of starred shapes forgotten intrigue you, wish for you to join their ranks?

I barely had time to choose if I wanted to be a medicine cat or a warrior. I died when I was a kit. Could I have been a medicine cat, alone, with the smell of mouse bile on my paws, the lonely scent of juniper berries and lavender my only comfort?

No, I think, even if I had lived. No, although I was promised to the stars, but not in that way. Not that way...

My promise is broken. It's distant, far-off, like the sky paths of the other cats of the stars. I'll never go there. Ever.

We are called StarClan, but there are others out there, too. I met some; they were called the Tribe of Endless Hunting. They were small, strange, but beautiful, proud, clever, and, in some ways, hostile, too.

You are startled. Hush, you're destined to walk the starlit paths, are you not? Stoneteller has his eye on you, little star. He plans to take you to live in his cave, the cave your Tribe reveres for its flickering shadows and dripping stones, its patches of dappled, silver moonlight and flitting spirits of the dead, sometimes even the dying.

You'll live here, work here, spend moons of your empty life here, thinking and worrying. You'll never feel the shudder of a dying eagle under your claws, never save a foolish prey-hunter who didn't check for danger before going off to hunt. Never watch your own kits become to-bes or curl up beside your mate in a soft, mossy nest in the quiet of the soft night.

No, you'll watch the phases of the moon, you'll watch and wait for the day when it's your turn to take and train a small kit to live and work in this lonely, empty world of shadows of moonlight and shadows of stones. Then you'll die with the stillness of your lonely, empty heart, listening to the silence of the stones, the frightened bleating of the dripping water, and the caressing whispers of those same starry, forgotten cats, begging for your flesh to turn cold and your spirit to join them.

When you do, when you draw your last breath, when you die, alone and in the silence, in the dark, I will be waiting...

...Waiting for you to follow the moonlight through your last haunting or tantalisingly beautiful dreams, dreams of silent whispers of lovers forgotten, of kits unborn, and hawks left alive to circle and kill in cold rage.

Hush, love, they'll end one night.

Yes, I am from StarClan. Yes, you know in your empty heart you should distrust me, should even hate. But, still, hush—I can feel your heartbeat, love. I can feel your whiskers tremble, and I see you shyly turn your eyes away. Star-like eyes...

I was promised to the stars. Promised to dominate them. I was part of three. Ah, I see you know of whom I speak. I am not one of those three. But, yes, I was to hold the power of the stars I was promised to in my paws. I was to rule all the sky paths, from the hunting grounds of StarClan to the Tribe of Endless Hunting.

But they took me away. I died. All because I wasn't kin of a fiery cat. My mother had no choice but to give us up—me, my sister Mistykit, and my brother Stonekit. Then I died. She gave my siblings to another. Oakheart, she called him. My father. Our father.

My promise of power turned to a promise to the stars, that instead of conquering them, they would conquer me. Now I am here, waiting...wishing...

But, love, I did not trespass upon the sky paths of the Tribe of Endless Hunting, your ancestors, to complain of a broken promise. No, I came to tell you, to help you understand, to show you...

Wait.

You are not ready yet, little star. Still, you look to the stars hungrily, even in your loneliness. Even in the darkest night, when the whispers of shadows refuse to sing, when the wind is too quiet for even the stars to hear, you drink in the silvered pools of moonlight shimmering in misty pools of darkness, fading glimmers of reflected stars.

Even with your silent, empty death dawning on the garish, impartial horizon, the icy splinters of your heart long for the simple, everlasting beauty of the stars, the perpetual memories of moonlight, the unforgotten souls of the wishing unborn.

Listen, love, to your heart's calling. Listen to its secret desires and hidden yearnings. Can't you feel it, calling you towards me?

I do. For I was promised to the stars. I hear their every word, their every song of sibilant whispers, resonant memories.

Forbidden? No, love. Yes, I laugh. For how could this truly be forbidden? I was promised to the stars, and they took that away from me, forced me to watch others fulfill my prophecy. They owe me. They owe us, for you too are destined to walk the sky paths of your ancestors before you die. I will not let you walk alone. I will walk with you every step of the way, little star, and they will not stop me. Will not stop us, from becoming what we will never in our lives be, from becoming what we should have been.

I will love you every moment.

Yes, love, follow the last fading glimmers of moonlight through this last, dark, haunting dream.

I will be waiting.

Wishing.

For I was promised to the stars.

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A/N: Did you guess it? If not, it's Mosskit, Bluestar's son! So how'd you like it? This is a oneshot, but let me know if you think I should continue it. No promises on quick updates, though :)

Please be kind and review! Every little word counts. Thanks so much!

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I love you all!

-Wings-