Hi everybody. I haven't been very active on fanfic. recently, but I plan to create this new book, The Antoniei, over the course of a while. I have been testing out different plots for about a month, and still don't know exactly where this will go. But I have a main idea. Heres the prologue...

The Antoniei

Prologue

The cat arched it's pale back. Moonlight spilled, his luminescent fur glowing brightly among the shadows. He pricked his dark ears slowly, very slowly. A crack sounded from a shadow. He quickly raised his head. With an abrupt motion the cat pelted forward, throwing himself in front of his velveteen white paws. The spotted shadow burst forth after him. A few seconds slipped by. Then a third cat silently stepped from the shadows and followed them, evening his pace to match the two ahead of him. There was a horrified glint in his liquid blue eyes. He breathed heavily. Everything was happening just how they had anticipated.

"Crescent was right." he though with grim dismay. Had it really been too excellent a chance for them to turn down? And how had they known? Why was there a sniper position at the resting place? These and many more questions turned over in his mind as he ran. If the frantic tom had perhaps been less wrapped up in his desperate mission, he might have noticed that he too, was being followed. But we must allow him some slack, I suppose. His future and Crescents life was at stake. Much higher than he could have ever perceived. In fact the whole surrounding area was staked out. When the enemies decided to move, they took not a chance. Or so it seemed. Both the parties had been expecting one another, both thinking to reinforce with an escape plan. The first cat dashed down a narrow foot path, his long fur flying behind him. The ones pursuing him were strong, he knew, very strong. He couldn't run forever. So he would have to be cleverer. The sounds of the jungle engulfed the wise cat. Insects chirped, oblivious to the drama being played out. Ahead of the fleeing cats the path drew narrower. A felled tree, thickly entwined with vines, blocked the path. The increasingly anxious kitty raced towards it. Going around a slow bend in the road, he knew that he would be our of sight for at least thirty seconds. With ease, the cat sprang into the air. He cleared the trunk by a couple of inches. He came down with a muted thud. For a second he caught his breath, and then quickly dashed into the depths of a lush thicket to the side. The sharply scented leaves hid his scent well. From here he had a prized view of the past ten foxlengths of the path. He sat and waited, poised, his ears pricked. It had start to rain.

The last cat knew the path well. He had often used it. What surprised him was that the others did too. His dark paws slid over the wet ground sturdily. Keeping within earshot of the ones he was pursuing, he maintained a steady canter. His breath became ragged the further the party ran. They were nearing the fallen tree. Near the beginning of the curve, he stopped. Taking a few looks behind him, the lean cat thrust his frame into the night-black thicket of leaves to his left. Beneath the canopy, the jungle was dry. But it was thick. Traveling through the brush was slow, but after a minute, the cat could see faint light up ahead. He eagerly pushed forward. A shower of vines blocked sight from his blue eyes, but he could smell the others- Wham.

The breath was knocked out of him. The force of the impact pushed the young cat back into the brambles behind him. "Why and what had he just crashed into in the middle of the Burma jungle?!" he silently yelled. His forehead screamed pain. A cool, tight, and very hushed mew quietly snarled in the tom's ear "And who may you be?" Those words evoked such urgency the younger cat suddenly felt he had no business in being there. As if this was a totally different place than a few moments before. But, then again, he had been sent here. This was the right time, place, and now, cats. The reply, which the younger cat had never rehearsed, was easy to produce.

The tom closed his eyes, and then he started to glow. It was as the tip of each hair on his pelt was an ember. It radiated off him, the light, like the sun. He glowed brighter and brighter, starting to look as if he was caught on fire. The leaves surrounding the two cats reflected the light. "Ok, ok, I get it!" hissed the more so older cat. "I know who you are! STOP!" The younger tom opened his eyes. A bit over his companions shoulder, a single mangrove leaf hung alone on a branch. It then immediately caught into a bursting flame as his eyes made contact with it. It fell, blackened, to the ground. The older cat went and examined it. "Yes, that is the mark." he remarked. "Do you have it too?"

He glanced over the newcomers forehead, and nodded. "Ok, you have to wait here. When I yowl, you come out into the path and then follow us. Have you got it?" The younger cat nodded. Then the other charged into the clearing. There was the sound of a sharp, surprised meow, then the sounds of more battle. The cat crept closer towards the thin blanket of leaves that separated his hiding place from the fighting. He hade a full view of the scene. The cat he had crashed into was on the left, his back to the tree trunk. A dappled coated feline slowly wove towards his opponent, his mouth drawn up into an ugly sneer. Then he sprang forwards. There was a clap of thunder. The next few moments seemed like magic. In the blink of an eye the tom near the tree leapt behind it and disappeared. Then, more astonishingly, the same pale cat reappeared behind the spotted one. He raked his claws down the other ones back, hissing with satisfaction.

Then the large, wirily, dappled enemy reared up and broke free of the pale cat. He turned and began again to try to attack, but the same switch of places from the amazing pale cat defeated him. At this point, the Bengal had decided enough was enough. He turned tail and fled back the way he had come, letting out warning shrieks to the rest of his kind.

A bit after, the Birman yowled, loudly. The young tom pushed his way through the final cover of vegetation out into the clearing. The rain had subsided. Directly in front him, stood two young she-cats. Birmans. A bit to the side, further back, a tawny, colored Bengal with slight features. The tom remembered seeing him from some gatherings before... In the middle stood the pale Birman.

"Quick," he meowed tiredly. "They will probably come back with a war party. If you would all follow me." He turned and started a brisk trot away from the open, into the dark jungle. Steam arose from the ground.. The air seemed to grow more humid after the heavy downpour.

The tom watched the others go ahead of him, disappearing into the shadows. He wondered where his future would go, and then followed his new companions. As the leaves closed behind him, the young cat could hear sounds of angry cats approaching, then the voices faded into oblivion.

. . . . .

When the search party got there, all they could find was a burnt leaf a few feet away, lying in the undergrowth. In it's middle, there was a unburnt sliver of leaf, shaped roughly like a crescent moon, matching the one which was beginning to grow lower in the dark sky.

. . . . .

Hope you like it. Keep posted for more... It might be a bit of time between chapters.

-H23

Oh, yes, forgot to say it's not exactly typical warrior clans... I will write more of a