Amber watched on silently as her brothers squabbled harmlessly over whose catch was the largest, tucking into her own mouse as they carried on. The three had been living alone together for a while now, ever since their mother was killed by one of the ShadowClan patrols they so desperately avoided, and tensions ran high sometimes. Naught but a few moons ago, Hollymist would have gently ended the arguing with a few soft words, and then proceed to tell a story of Clan life with such detail that the three grown cats would be listening with the attention of a few kits hearing a nursery tale.
Hollymist had somehow managed to raise Bracken, Fox, and Amber as rogues from the time they were kits, when she was exiled from ShadowClan towards the end of her pregnancy. Amber had an undying respect for the late she-cat.
She pushed these thoughts out of her mind. They were unnecessary, their only function making Amber dwell on the past. As a rogue, one's life had to angle toward the future. If we hunt in this area, will we be attacked by a patrol? If we sleep here tonight, will a ShadowClan cat find us?
Luckily for Amber and her brothers, ShadowClan's territory vastly compared to the amount of cats they could afford to send on a patrol. Hollymist had spoken of a Clan called ThunderClan, who had owned half of the territory which was now claimed by ShadowClan. Hollymist had been a young kit by the time all of ThunderClan had either died or succumbed to ShadowClan's might.
An annoyed hiss from one of her brothers snapped Amber out of her thoughts. "Will you two shut it?" she snapped. "Keep on bickering like a pair of kits and someone from ShadowClan will hear you."
This shut them up rather effectively. Amber knew just how to use her brothers' greatest fear to her advantage.
The older of the two, Bracken, finished his shrew off in a matter of seconds. "Think we can safely camp here tonight?" he asked.
"I say we go back to the abandoned badger den," Fox replied. "It's my favorite place. It's enclosed."
"We were just there a few nights ago," Bracken argued.
Once again, Amber tuned out of the conversation. It was the same every single day. Wake up, hunt, sleep. Wake up, hunt, sleep. She longed for something to give her life a purpose, or at least to change things up a little. No doubt her brothers felt the same, but they both had much more patience than she.
She had no idea what was coming to her.
Saffron darted in and out of the unfamiliar undergrowth, in a state of near panic. She prayed to StarClan that no ShadowClan cats would spot her. Minnowstar said they wouldn't, as they were recovering from their most recent battle. But she couldn't be sure, and so it bothered her. Focus on your mission, she told herself, You're RiverClan's only hope. A worm of doubt wriggled its way into her mind. If ShadowClan couldn't find these cats, how could she?
She came to an abrupt halt. I'm not going to find anything but trouble like this. She tasted the air, looking for a fresh scent. But what kind of smell should she expect? Would the cats have the same oily ShadowClan scent? Saffron had always imagined larger-than-life cats with windswept fur, jagged scars, and a rustic scent about them.
An irritated hiss nearby made her freeze in place. She strained her ears - she had to be completely certain.
"Will you two shut it?" came a muffled voice, a she-cat. "Keep on bickering like a pair of kits and someone from ShadowClan will hear you."
Saffron proceeded forward cautiously, making no sound. Two male voices carried on a casual conversation about making camp. She was sure of it now. These were her target cats.
Suddenly, the conversation dropped off. "Did you hear something?" said one of the voices.
Saffron didn't move a muscle.
"I think I did," came a second voice. He moved to face in Saffron's direction. "Show yourself!" he commanded.
Saffron stepped out of the undergrowth and faced the three cats. "I'm not gonna hurt you," she asserted.
The rogues were nothing at all as she had pictured them. Their golden tabby fur was messy and unkempt. They looked lean and underfed, and in no way friendly or heroic. "You got that right," the she-cat warned, her amber eyes locked unwavering on Saffron's green.
The largest of the three, the one with leaf green eyes, suddenly frowned. "You don't smell like a ShadowClan cat."
"I'm not a ShadowClan cat," Saffron told them. "I'm from RiverClan. I'm here… that's to say, I wasn't sent here to find you, not officially, it's rather embarrassing for our leader because…" Saffron caught a glimpse of the annoyed look on the she-cat's face and rushed to finish her introduction. " because, well, we need your help."
The rogues exchanged glances. "From us, you mean? Why us?" the she-cat inquired. "What's happened to you?"
Encouraged by the she-cat's concern, Saffron pressed on. "ShadowClan," she explained. "They're attacking us. They've started a war. I… I left because there's no way we can win. We need help. I gave up my warrior name for the good of my Clan." She had always assumed the three rogues to be cats that followed a sort of code of honor and was appealing now to the trait that, for all she really knew, may not be present in these cats.
The two toms seemed doubtful, but the she-cat stepped forward. "I'd love to help, but… what makes you think we can do anything about it?"
Saffron was taken aback. "Well… how could you not, you're… you're symbols of defiance!" she sputtered. "All of RiverClan, we - I mean, they - they look up to you! You've been fighting ShadowClan since you were kits, you've been stealing their prey, harming their warriors…" She paused, reflecting on her words. "I mean when I say it out loud it sounds like a bad thing, but it's good! You're amazing! You're… heroes."
The amber-eyed tom who hadn't spoken yet straightened visibly at the word 'heroes', but received a flick by his brother's tail-tip. "Have some humility, will you?" the bigger cat scolded. He turned to Saffron. "Rumors can be misleading." He sighed. "We're not amazing warriors as you believe. We're just doing what we have to do to survive."
"We don't need a warriors," Saffron replied, getting ready to lay down her trump card. "We have plenty of those."
The she-cat looked intrigued. "What do you need, then?"
"We need to restart ThunderClan."
Amber shook her head in bewilderment. "You all are insane. There's no way this'll work. We'll get ourselves killed."
"Great StarClan, and here I was thinking you wanted an interesting life," Fox replied, rolling his eyes.
"I know you're not tied to any Clan, Amber, but I'd gladly die for mine," said the young grey tabby, Saffron.
Ironically enough, it was respect for Saffron's faultless loyalty to her kin which found Amber in the badger den with her brother and the young she-cat, plotting the development of an entirely new Clan, on ShadowClan's territory. There was absolutely no it'd work. However, she found she was drawn to Saffron's bright optimism and energy, with a layer of bravery and duty. She had a certain respect for the young runaway,
"We'll need a leader, you know. There's no Clan without a leader," Fox suggested. Amber caught Bracken rolling his eyes, and shot him half a grin. They both knew their brother well enough to know that he wanted the position worse than he'd ever wanted anything. He wanted respect and acceptance.
Saffron was already shaking her head before Fox had finished speaking. "A leader needs to have StarClan's blessing. We don't know yet whether StarClan approves of our quest."
"How do you suggest we gain their approval?" Amber asked of the younger cat. Much as she liked Saffron, she wouldn't want to follow every wish and command of StarClan should the RiverClan cat be too stiff.
"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" Saffron said with a shrug. "We do it."
Amber nodded to herself. She liked this cat.
Fox hated how much say Saffron had in this operation. Sure, she had brought the idea in, but it was their help she needed, wasn't it? He would work much better without her strict code and loyalties. Worse, what if she - the little grey she-cat who appeared to be fresh out of her apprenticeship - became the leader of ThunderClan? Fox couldn't have that. He wanted control, for if he didn't have it, he felt insecure and helpless.
And so it was he who led the other cats to the old ThunderClan camp, where he had spent many a long night with his siblings. ShadowClan patrols didn't go there often; they claimed a lingering stench of ThunderClan cats long dead, but in reality, it was too easy to fall in from the wall of the camp and injure yourself. Fox had seen it happen, the time he, Bracken, and Amber saved the lost ShadowClan kit. The poor thing, who was only a moon or two old at the time, had fallen into the old camp and lay whimpering in a pool of blood when she was found. He and Amber had tended to her wounds as much as they could while Bracken stood watch, then they carried her back as close to the ShadowClan camp as they dared.
Since that day, his thoughts had strayed to the little blue kit more often than he'd like to admit. He found himself wondering whether he may have earned a place in ShadowClan had he revealed that it had been he who saved their kit. Perhaps he, like the legend cat Firestar, would have found a way to climb the ranks of his adopted Clan and even earn himself a leadership position. As a rogue, the closest he could ever come to being a leader was bossing his brother and sister around, and this to little avail.
So he agreed to restart ThunderClan.
They arrived at the old camp, and Fox opened his mouth to warn Saffron not to fall in, but decided against it. She wouldn't fall if she had any real value as a warrior, he told himself.
She let out a small sigh. "It's incredible, don't you think? Being here, where all the stories come from. Do you think we'll be the next legends of ThunderClan?"
Fox did like the sound of that.
"Let's worry about ShadowClan, not fame," Amber said, shooting Fox a coy look. She had a somewhat unnerving ability to read his mind, or so it seemed when she did so. The rational side of him knew that Amber was simply a perceptive and charismatic cat - a useful cat. Luckily for Fox, she had no desire to lead a Clan.
Bracken and Fox picked their way down the side of the deep trench that was the abandoned camp. The two she-cats, as Amber had already taken in the entire scene, simply walked in through the thorny entrance.
"Gonna have to trim that up," Amber said, pulling a thorn out of her leg with her teeth.
Saffron was already exploring the camp excitedly. She poked her head through the entrance of a small cave at the bottom of the camp. "This was the nursery!" she exclaimed. Fox followed her to the den and the faint, musty scent of she-cats with milk hit his nose; Saffron was right. This had to be the nursery. He shuddered at the thought of all those cats - all those kittens - now long gone. Did their spirits watch them now, judge them?
"I'd imagine the entrance was concealed somehow," Bracken commented.
"Yeah, well, we don't have any mothers yet, so we can worry about that later," said Saffron, flicking a cobweb off her shoulder with her tail-tip. She flounced out of the nursery and gazed around the camp for another den to target.
While her brothers and Saffron explored the camp, clearing out twigs and cobwebs and snagging the occasional mouse which had made its home there, Amber used her teeth to trim the thorny bramble entrance. Whether a highly important job or not, she had no desire to be stabbed by another one of those pesky thorns. That could be a job for nosey ShadowClan cats. She gathered the stray branches into a pile and shoved it in the back of the old elders' den, reasoning that they'd have no use for it other than storage and waste for a very long time.
She still had her doubts that any of this would work out. Most likely, they'd be forced to evacuate and Saffron would return to RiverClan, and never again would their paths cross. RiverClan and WindClan would be taken over by ShadowClan, but Amber and her brothers would continue to live just they had their entire lives.
But if they did succeed, Amber would be able to die happy knowing she'd done at least some good in her small world. She could preserve the life of the young cat she'd quickly grown quite fond of and maybe even take down ShadowClan altogether. Maybe.
Probably not.
But there was always a chance, and she was willing to take it.
The sun had barely set by the time Bracken and Saffron had curled up in the den they claimed to be the warriors' den, sound asleep before the moon could be fully seen over the treetops. Amber couldn't imagine that a day spent cleaning out abandoned dens could leave a cat so tired - or at all - but then, she and Fox had never needed to sleep as much as Bracken did. Their mother claimed this came from their nameless, faceless ShadowClan father.
Fox emerged from the medicine cat den and stretched. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight," he announced. "I can take watch." In two swift bounds, he leaped atop the highest den, the leader's den. Amber rolled her eyes. He fancied himself standing there, delivering meetings and ordering cats around. "You have fun with that," she said. "I'm going hunting; I haven't eaten since sunrise. Want me to bring something back for you?"
"Please."
He messed up. He messed up bad.
All of his Clan's hopes and dreams and plans - or, more accurately put, desperate grabs at a chance of surviving - may well become failures of a tribe long dead several generations from now, forgotten given a few more - because he had got himself caught by ShadowClan.
He had one more chance to redeem himself, to free his entire Clan from ShadowClan's greedy clutches. Under guard in the abandoned elders' den - no one used it anymore, for as he had discovered, retirement was no longer an option for aging ShadowClan warriors - awaiting interrogation by torture by ShadowClan's deputy, Larksong. Perhaps, if he played his cards just right, he could steer ShadowClan away from the ThunderClan operation and also away from RiverClan itself.
One of the guards, a pretty silver she-cat, looked at him blankly. "Good luck," she mewed, before padding away with the other guard, a younger tabby cat. The prisoner couldn't be sure whether her words were genuine.
In strode a lithe and almost friendly-looking she-cat with deep eyes of a soothing aquamarine and golden-brown tabby fur so smooth and silky, the tom could just imagine her painstakingly grooming every hair on her body earlier in the morning. Behind her were two bulky warriors. Backup.
"Before we begin this, I'd like if you'd let me call you by your warrior name. This can be a friendly meeting," she said, causing the prisoner to start. He had not expected the ShadowClan deputy to be so… kind. I have to retain my composure, he reminded himself. I can't give away anything.
"'Prisoner' will do."
The she-cat frowned. "I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up," she said with a sigh, "that you would not be so openly hostile to me."
"I don't know what you'd expect, given that I am under your captivity," he replied. He knew how this game worked. Never let your opponent put you on the defensive. Once you're defending yourself, the opponent can get anything out of you - or convince you of anything.
To her prisoner's surprise, Larksong sat down. Now she had to look up at him as they spoke. "We find someone on our territory, we bring them in. Not to harm them, but to ensure they do not harm us."
The prisoner shook his head, denying it. "This is coming from the deputy of a Clan that's trying to take over all the others!"
"Our goal is not to control, but to unite," she said.
This was obviously a well-rehearsed line, propaganda used to thrust any ShadowClan warrior into battle. The tom wasn't having any of it. "Tell that to all the casualties of the battle last quarter-moon."
"ShadowClan had its own losses," Larksong told him. "It would benefit both of us to unite peacefully."
The tom sighed exasperatedly. They were getting nowhere. "What do you want from me?"
"You certainly don't beat around the bush, do you?" the deputy said, subtly doing just that - avoiding the point. The prisoner began to feel intensely curious. If ShadowClan's deputy had been deployed to try and manipulate him into something, it must be pretty interesting. "Get on with it, then. What's the deal?"
"You're an extremely… influential cat to RiverClan. You will send a message back to your Clan. You will tell them to surrender, to become one with ShadowClan. ShadowClan will show them the mercy it has shown you in setting you free. You will encourage RiverClan to join us. The unity will become official with the birth of Scorchstar's kits by Minnowstar."
The filthy, fox-hearted deputy had made her proposal to the wrong cat. He couldn't bear the thought of his mate bearing the kits of that tyrant. "I'd sooner die," he growled. His claws dug into the soft earth beneath him.
Larksong stood up, maintaining eye contact with the RiverClan cat. "Very well then. You have made your choice." She turned and addressed the two warriors behind her, who had so far remained completely silent. "Go on, you two. We'll send an entirely different message to RiverClan."