"You tried, Smallpaw." Shallowstream nodded, putting cobwebs on a gray tabby's shoulder.
"Smallpaw, stop wriggling! Don't make me give you mousebile!" Shallowstream hissed. "Sorry, but, it really hurts." Smallpaw meowed, looking sad. "Oh, you take jokes so seriously." Riverpaw chuckled, her long blue-gray coat looking dull with mud. "Oh, Riverpaw, clean up! Just because you managed to not destroy the catmint does not mean you can walk around with mud in your fur!" Shallowstream hissed, and padded away.
"What a bummer." Squirrelstar meowed, looking at Tawnyspot. "Gorsefeather could've been a wonderful cat, just struck down by a cat he could easily overpower." She meowed, crushing a leaf with her paw. "Curse Hallowclan! They blinded Shallowstream and now they've killed Gorsefeather!" Tawnyspots hissed, unseathing her claws.
Shallowstream looked at the high branch. Sooner or later, she'd have to tell Squirrelstar about the prophecy that left Squirrelclan in massive danger. Her mind wandered back to Nightwhisper's warning. 'Shallowstream, this is important, listen! Battles with leave scraps of life, dead and unmoving, and the tail of a bushy squirrel with leave the hallow smirking.'
That was the most complete prophecy she'd ever heard, but what did it mean? Was Hallowclan going to defeat Squirrelclan? Before Nightwhisper faded away, she said, 'Beware the soul!'
Was Thrushstar out for revenge? No, that couldn't be.