Here is the prologue! I hope you enjoy!

-Willow


Prologue

Stars blazed dimly against a coal-black sky, bathing the trees and ground below in a iridescent light. The lake water shimmered in the glow, fish of all sorts able to be seen by those watching from above. The moon, once bright with a everlasting glow, was dimmed as the starlight overpowered it; it now hung low in the horizon, looking as if it could fall onto the trees given the proper moment.

A pale brown she-cat bustled in her den, trying to keep herself busy by organizing and re-organizing her herb store. Her paws flitted from bundle to bundle, knowing which bundle was which from many seasons of experience. Her blue eyes were keen on the sky; a storm looked about overhead, the dark clouds waining on the treetops. That certainly wasn't good for the newborn kits, who often trembled and cried in fear of the loud noises and flashes of white before their unseeing eyelids.

Don't fret, Fallowstorm, she chided herself, huffing in annoyance at how silly she was being about a few storm clouds and a restless night. If the storm happens, just go and give the kits some poppy seeds. That should calm them enough to

"Fallowstorm?"

The said she-cat jumped, gasping sharply at the sound of a voice. Her heart raced in her chest, her eyes wide and ears pinned to her head in fear; what was going on with her? Why was she so on edge? Flicking her tail, she turned and saw the pure black pelt of Tanglepaw; the apprentice, recently appointed and the daughter of Sorreltooth and Littlewing, looked extremely tired. Her eyes were dulled with exhaustion and she looked as if she hadn't slept in a good day or two.

Hurriedly, Fallowstorm meowed, "What is it you need, Tanglepaw?"

"I need..." Tanglepaw paused in her sentence to yawn, "a poppy seed or two... I can't sleep."

You look it, little one... I too haven't slept.

"All right, hold on a moment; I'll get you some." Fallowstorm turned back to her herb bundles and quickly fished around for two poppy seeds, placing them in a smaller leaf. She rose to her paws and padded to Tanglepaw's side, settling before the black she-cat and placing the leaf at her paws. "This should put your mind and body at ease, little one..." she purred, blinking softly at Tanglepaw.

The apprentice shot her a grateful glance and bent her head, catching the two poppy seeds on her tongue and swallowing them in a matter of heartbeats. She sighed, clearly contempt, as the faded look in her eyes began to darken. It was no longer a look of exhaustion—more so a look of drowsiness.

Fallowstorm noticed how unstable Tanglepaw seemed to be on her paws. When the apprentice rose to her full height, her legs wobbled and gave out on her—the pale brown tabby quickly lunged forward and allowing Tanglepaw to lean against her. "Come on," Fallowstorm murmured, nudging Tanglepaw to her paws as best she could, "let's get you back to your nest."

Tanglepaw nodded solemnly, and at a slow but steady pace the two cats exited Fallowstorm's den. By now, the clouds had dissipated from sight; however, the wind was beginning to pick up, the leaves on trees showering the camp in their green fronds. Fallowstorm picked up her pace, eventually having to haul Tanglepaw into the apprentices den by her scruff. The scents of her brother, Webpaw alongside the two apprentice Talonpaw and Raccoonpaw were comforting to Fallowstorm. She lightly eased a now sleeping Tanglepaw into her nest beside Raccoonpaw and quickly made her way outside, staring up at the lowering moon with wide eyes.

Suddenly, a loud cry came from the warriors den. Fallowstorm lurched around, finding the young warrior Dashfrost staring up at the moon as well. His eyes were flashing in fear and his tail was bushed out twice its size.

Cautious, Fallowstorm approached him, speaking soft and low. "It's alright, Dashfrost," she soothed, laying her tail comfortingly across his shoulders, "No harm is coming to ThunderClan, I promise..."

Another cry sounded from the nursery; it was Morningfire, who was heavily pregnant with Harrowtooth's kits. Immediately, the pale gray tom's blurred image streaked across Fallowstorm's vision as he rushed towards his mate, checking her over and asking her if she was okay. Cries, screams, and shouts were all around Fallowstorm, making her mind go from cat to cat a million miles a minute.

"Silence!" shouted a cat through the caterwauls.

The horrific noises dimmed to nothing in Fallowstorm's ears. Looking up at Highstone, she saw ThunderClan's leader, Newtstar, looking down at his Clan through tired yet blazing eyes; the small gray tom was lashing his tail, obviously not pleased with having his sleep disturbed. His pale pelt shone in the dim light, the gray contrasting with the blackness of the sky.

"What's going on, Newtstar?" asked Waspwing. The pale ginger tom was huddled in between Dustfang and Ivywhisker, his amber eyes wide.

"Are we under attack?" shouted Redstripe from the back of the Clan. In the darkness, his pure white pelt stuck out like a thorn among his darker-pelted Clanmates.

The cries and frets were once more around Fallowstorm, a monstrosity in her ears. The pale brown medicine cat flattened her ears to her head and stared up at Newtstar, her eyes begging him to stop the worry.

Her leader nodded and, with a sharp cry, ceased the fire before it got too overpowering. Newtstar surveyed each and every one of his cats, his amber eyes solemn. "I understand your worry," he began, "for I, too, am troubled by this. However, we cannot let this get the best of us—we must remain strong; just as we always have in time of doubt and worry."

Fallowstorm watched as the ThunderClan leader shared a look with his deputy, Marshpelt. There was a sharp glimmer of fear in the tortoiseshell's eyes as he turned his head and looked at her. Fallowstorm was suddenly slammed with a multitude of power—one that clearly did not resonate within ThunderClan themselves.

"Darkness is upon us," Fallowstorm whispered fearfully, looking back at Marshpelt and nodding. The tom returned the gesture only to look at Newtstar, which the small pale gray tom did not return—the fear that was already settled in his eyes was enough to give way that he knew.

"Return to your nests; all of you," Newtstar meowed, trying to seem calm. "this darkness will be ended by dawn, I assure you."

Mutters were cast, glances were shared, but at the end of it all the Clan returned to their dens.

Newtstar and Marshpelt remained, however. Fallowstorm's pelt was slightly raised, but she forced herself to lay it flat as she approached them.

Marshpelt was the one to greet her. "Fallowstorm," he started, beginning masking the fear in his eyes, "what brings you—"

"It's upon us," Fallowstorm murmured darkly, "there's no stopping it now..."

Marshpelt cocked his head, confused. "Stopping what?"

"An unknown threat," Newtstar confirmed for his deputy. "It must begin with this..."

"It's the end, then?" Marshpelt murmured, his tail going between his legs.

"Not the end," Fallowstorm corrected, turning to stare up at the stagnant moon in the sky. It's dull glow was taunting, sending shivers through the trees and down her spine. "But the beginning of the end."


Aaaaand that's the prologue! Sorry, I know it was mainly focused in ThunderClan, but the same thing would've been said in the other three Clans so I decided to just leave it at this.

Please review! I enjoy reading them and constructive criticism is always welcomed as long as no swearing is in them. :)

-Willow