The clearing was bare and lined with snowmelt. There was no sign of the white, slushy blanket that normally covered their camp and the little portion of their territory. Instead, there were fresh buds sprouting out of the bare trees, bringing in the sign of Newleaf. Blizzardstar looked up at the clearing blue sky and let out a huff of augmentation and disillusionment. He sat on the once frozen tree stump that was lined with brambles.

Hailstorm padded up towards his leader. He followed his gaze and flicked his tail-tip. "There's no point in sulking now," he murmured. He looked at the BlizzardClan leader with eyes swollen with grief. "The snow's gone now and there's hardly any mounds of it to shelter in."

Blizzardstar looked at Hailstorm with misleading in his eyes. "What's the point of trying to get the snow back?" he meowed. "Hailstorm, you are my deputy, and what you say could be in great ailment for my Clan."

Hailstorm bristled across his shoulders. "I am only trying to help," he meowed sternly. "How dare you accuse me of giving sickness to my Clan?"

"When we established our grounds here, the place was impeccable for us: there was plenty of snow." Blizzardstar meowed, lashing his tail. "There was snowfall that created mounds of snow, which also served as sheltermounds. The preymound is no more now—all the preys' pelts are sodden by snowmelt. Can we really give that to Nettlebird? She's expecting your kits and you really think giving her that stuff would satisfy her hunger?" A rush of warm air buffeted through their thick pelts, their whiskers pressed against their faces for a few heartbeats.

Hailstorm had a look of grievance and love in his eyes. "I'm doing all I can to keep the spirits of my Clan high," he meowed softly. "With your decision to migrate to another snowbound region, it seemed to have triggered OakClan and ShrewClan to tell us to remain in this forest."

Blizzardstar fluffed up his fur in indignation at the thought of having the two Clans choose his decisions. "I will not get ordered around by two leaders," he hissed. "But if what they said is true about the snow coming back in leaf-bare, then so be it."

The deputy's eyes lightened up. "So we'll stay?"

Blizzardstar snorted. "Of course," he grunted. "It'll only be a matter of time until the snow comes back again."

Hailstorm gave his deputy an approving dip of his head before turning away towards the muddied camp. Blizzardstar gave one last look at the clear sky before following after his deputy. The camp was grassy and dappled with mud spots everywhere. The grass was nearly browned caused by the heavy layer of snow for the past moon. Little coolness waved from the remaining snowmelt around the clearing. The camp was lined with lichen that grew on small rocks and the base of trees. The dens, except for the leader's den, were sheltered by bramble thickets that were wide enough for a number of cats to sleep in. The leader's den was beneath a gorse bush, which still needed time for its flowers to grow. The sky was clear of any trees that would block the beautiful scenery of the cloudless skies. There were trees that lined the camp as well, serving as a barricade for any intruders. Birdsong began to fill the air weakly as the small attempts of Newleaf took its course all around them.

Blizzardstar strode around his camp to observe the progress. Fallownose and Slatefeather were helping to bring fresh, dry moss into the warriors' den. Nighttail and Bristlepaw helped rid any crushed bramble patch that was weight down by the snow. Blizzardstar noticed how Bristlepaw looked rather absentminded and sad. She would give furtive glances at Nighttail, which sent a shiver down her spine. Her mentor, Nighttail, had a broken jaw. His jaws would seem gaped and easy for any kind of bird to fly in. The solid black warrior had somehow snapped his jaws out of place while trying to save a kit from drowning, assumingly Bristlepaw when she was a lone kit, which virtually broke his jaws out of its sockets. Blizzardstar was told rumors by the elders when he was a young warrior that there were four legendary Clans: ThunderClan, RiverClan, ShadowClan, and WindClan. If there was any cat that would have a permanent injury or wound, then their names were subject to change to match their wounds, even if the name was unpleasant. Blizzardstar felt that that was only a rumor and nothing true. If it were true, he wouldn't want to rename Nighttail into Brokenjaw or Twistedjaw. Nighttail has worked hard and earned his name, he thought. There's no point in renaming him into such a joke. A name like that would haunt his life for good.

Blizzardstar spotted Whiteheart recreating the nursery den all by herself. She wasn't doing any great effort but her eyes were heavy with wanted succor. Blizzardstar went over to her side. "It looks like you need help," he meowed to her.

Whiteheart looked surprised at the BlizzardClan leader. "Blizzardstar?" she gasped. "I wasn't expecting you to be here. Don't you have a Clan to lead? Don't waste your breath on helping me. I got this." But whenever she went to lift up a section of bramble thicket with her muzzle, she flinched back and nearly slipped on a patch of slippery mud. Blizzardstar caught her in time before she could fall to the ground.

Blizzardstar admired her self-assurance and hotheadedness. He also relished seeing how her thick, soft white pelt glowed dimly in the fading sunlight. He touched his nose to her shoulder. "Come on, admit it," he meowed. "You need my help. Now let's fix up the nursery together."

Whiteheart looked like she wanted to argue but she kept her jaws shut. After she and Blizzardstar helped fix the nursery den, Whiteheart sat back. "That was easy," she sighed.

The leader gave her a playful nudge on the shoulder. "It was easy when I came in to help," he teased.

Whiteheart prodded a forepaw in the leader's side. "I can manage my own, thank you," she snorted. There was an edge of amusement in her tone.

Blizzardstar purred. You'd be just as glad as I am that I was here for you, he wanted to say aloud.

When Blizzardstar left Whiteheart to manage a little bit of refining on her own, he stood in the center of the clearing, gazing around at his hardworking Clan. They were slowly rebuilding to adjust to normal Clan life without the snow. It was going to be a difficult haul, but Blizzardstar knew that deep down his Clan could make it. Despite their given Clan name, they'd have to adjust to warmer climates. But when I think about it, we'll have to learn more battle techniques that aren't based on snowbound land than those we already know. We'll know twice the moves and battle skills for both snow and dry ground. We'll let the others know that we're BlizzardClan blood deep down in our bodies, no matter how hot the sun is.

Sorry that this prologue is short. This is mainly based on the rebuilding that BlizzardClan had to go through. This is set in the past, however, around three moons before the present time of the actual fanfic.