And here's the Prologue, as always.

Prologue

Stars shone brightly in the sky, twinkling and sparkling with an undying glow. They bathed the clearing in a silver light, touching each blade of grass and reflecting against the surrounding mists like a prism.

"You wish to go back," a voice said. "Why?"

A she-cat sat in the middle of the clearing, starshine making her silver pelt glow.

"I want to make something right," she said.

"You cannot make right something that has already gone wrong," the voice told her.

"I want to try."

"A promise to try isn't enough," the voice told her. "We sent Cinderpelt back for a reason – to live again, to live the life she never had the chance to live. You were cut off in your youth, yes; but you were satisfied with your life until then. There is no reason to send you back."

The silver she-cat closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and mewed, "I am needed."

"Are you needed, or do you think you're needed?"

"I know I am needed," she responded. "I cannot sit idly by and watch as someone I care for spirals into… into something I know he is not!"

"He is already beyond reasoning."

"No one is beyond reasoning."

"And how do you propose to change him?" the voice asked, hard and demanding. "You propose to go down and force him to -"

"I will not force him to do anything!" she spat.

"Then how -"

"Enough of this arguing!" The voice was cut off by another voice. "Wind, you don't mean to defend that foolish warrior's behavior, do you?"

"I…"

Wind was cut off. "I say we send her," said the second voice. "If any cat is capable of reasoning with him, it's this one."

"I wasn't trying to defend my foolish kin," Wind insisted, her voice sharp. "I was merely trying to figure out how she was going to pull this off. She's a RiverClan cat! She doesn't belong amongst my Clan."

"She doesn't, no," agreed another voice, "but with the new litter she can. Cinderpelt was not in control the whole time she was within Cinderheart – this will be no different."

"Yes," agreed a fourth voice. "Put her in the background; influencing things from the shadows. She will not – and cannot – control the ultimate actions of her host, but she can influence them to do the right thing."

"All I want is to make things right again," the silver she-cat insisted. "Please; give me this one chance!"

"Well, Wind?" asked the second voice. "We must all be in agreement."

Wind was silent for what seemed like the longest time.

Then, she said, "Fine."

The silver she-cat let out a gasp of shock and gratitude.

"I won't disappoint you – I swear!" she vowed.

"You had better not," Wind snapped. "You only get one chance, Feathertail – if you cannot make Crowfeather see the error of his ways in time, then you get no other chance."

"O-Of course!" Feathertail mewed. "I understand."

"Know this," Wind growled, "it will not be easy. You will have to influence your host to not only help Crowfeather – which will involve giving up things that your host wants - but make the greatest sacrifice of all."

"Just one more, Heathertail," urged Kestrelflight in the dark. "You can do this."

What did I do, Heathertail thought, pain rippling through her body, to deserve this?

Emberfoot's eyes gleamed in the dark.

Oh, right, Heathertail recalled. For the good of the Clan.

Another powerful spasm powered through the light tabby's body. It would have been the most painful thing she had experienced – physically, anyway – if she had not already gone through it a moment earlier for her son, who was drying off near Emberfoot's paws and already wailing for milk.

Soon, Heathertail thought, looking at him.

She could feel the last, powerful push – her body wanted her last kit out, and wanted it out now. She braced herself as best she could, claws digging into the feathers and heather and tasting bark as she bit deep into the stick between her teeth.

With a grunt of pain and an oddly satisfying sensation of loss, it was all over.

"Well done!" Kestrelflight told her.

Heathertail lifted her head – weak as she felt – to see that between his paws was another kit. Kestrelflight licked it until the kit opened its mouth and wailed.

An overwhelming sense of love flooded Heathertail, blotting out the pain as her two kits wiggled blindly to her belly. She felt a slight pinch as they both latched, huddled close to one another for warmth. Though it hurt, Heathertail wound herself around her kits, a hind paw placed against their rumps to keep them from straying.

"Here; eat these," Kestrelflight mewed.

Fragrant herb-scent flooded Heathertail's senses. Borage was the most prominent – to help her milk. She had been taking it for a half-moon, she knew how to deal with its taste. She lapped up the other herbs just as easily, swallowing them with the knowledge that they were a benefit not only for her but for her kits.

"They're beautiful," Emberfoot breathed. Heathertail could sense he hadn't expected to be blown away by them, either. "A she-kit and a tom. What do you want to name them?"

Heathertail looked tiredly down at her kits. Both of them were already thick-furred, their pelts already longer than most kits'. The tom's fur was colored like Heathertail's, brown with tabby stripes. The she-kit was a light gray, nearly silver, with darker tabby stripes. Their paws each held a little bit of white, thanks to the white tips of Heathertail's own toes and the whiteness of Heathertail's mother, Whitetail.

"Woollykit for the tom," Heathertail decided. "His pelt is fluffy, like a sheep's."

Emberfoot nodded in agreement. Kestrelflight backed up to allow the new father some room as Emberfoot leaned down and breathed in his son's scent.

"And the she-kit?" he asked.

Heathertail looked at Emberfoot, silently wondering if he wanted to name her.

Emberfoot shook his head: Heathertail could name her, too.

Heathertail nosed her daughter's pelt. It was soft, like the feathers she was resting on.

"Featherkit," Heathertail mewed. "Featherkit is perfect for her."

Kestrelflight's eyes flashed in the gloom of the WindClan nursery. "Very well," he said. "I'll tell Onestar. Get some rest, Heathertail, and call if you need me."

Heathertail nodded to show that she heard. She leaned back into her nest, feeling her kits suckle and nurse with their tiny paws kneading her belly for more. Emberfoot was there, looking at his kits with pride. With love.

She closed her eyes and thought, For the good of the Clan…