Here's the prologue! Like I've said in the summary, the plot will be mostly the same with some changes here and there. This chapter is a good indication of that. The next chapter will be starring Princess so, without further ado... Enjoy! :D And don't forget to Review what you think. Until next time...

~Silver

~Prologue~

A half-moon glowed on smooth granite boulders from the dark night sky, turning them silver. The silence was broken only by the ripple of water from the swift black river and the whisper of trees in the forest beyond.

Suddenly the bushes at the edge of the trees stirred, and from their shadows a night-black cat padded out onto the rocks. She was all but a shadow as she crept forward stealthily. In the light from the moon, her dark black pelt shone silver.

Coming from the shadows behind her, the lithe dark shapes of many cats came creeping stealthily onto the rocks. Their unsheathed claws glinted in the moonlight while wary eyes flashed like amber. In front of them, the black cat stared with narrowed green eyes on the fast moving black water of the river.

Movement was seen, and the lithe bodies of the enemy cats began walking out of the river, pelts slick and dripping from their nighttime swim. Leading them was a small tortoiseshell tom, his fox-red tail standing out starkly. His own sleek pelt was dripping from the river, the droplets sliding off smoothly as a duck's would. The tortoiseshell's eyes flashed upon seeing the cats that stood behind the night-black she-cat and, with a silent sweep of his tail from side to side, he signaled his cats forward at the same time as the she-cat and soon the rocks were alive with writhing, screeching cats.

As the two enemy factions leaped upon each other, the night-black she-cat went for the tortoiseshell. Soon, at the center of the frenzy of fur and claws, the she-cat pinned the small tom to the ground and lifted her head triumphantly. "Redtail!" the black cat growled. "How dare you hunt in our territory? The Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!"

"After tonight, Nightheart, this will be just another RiverClan hunting ground!" the red-tailed tom spat back.

Above the noise of the battle, a warning yowl was heard from a brown tabby that stood near the shore, obviously sounding shrill and anxious. "Look out! More RiverClan warriors!"

Nightheart turned to see more of the sleek wet bodies sliding out of the water below the rocks. The drenched RiverClan warriors bounded silently up the shore and hurled themselves into battle without even stopping to shake the water from their fur.

The dark she-cat glared down at Redtail. "You may swim like otters, but you and your warriors do not belong in this forest!" She drew back her lips and showed her teeth as the cat struggled beneath her.

The desperate scream of a ThunderClan she-cat rose above the clamor. A wiry RiverClan tom had pinned the brown warrior flat on her belly. Now he lunged toward her neck with jaws still dripping from his swim across the river.

Nightheart heard the cry and let go of Redtail. With a mighty leap, she knocked the enemy warrior away from the other she-cat. "Quick Mousefur, run!" she ordered before turning on the RiverClan tom who had threatened her. Mousefur scrambled to her paws, wincing from a deep gash in her shoulder, and raced away.

Behind her, Nightheart spat at with rage as the RiverClan tom sliced open her nose. Blood blinded her for an instant, but she lunged forward regardless and sank her teeth into the hind leg of her enemy. The RiverClan cat squealed and struggled free.

"Nightheart!" The yowl came from a bracken-colored warrior. "This is useless! There are too many RiverClan warriors!"

"No, Oakheart. ThunderClan will never be beaten!" Nightheart yowled back, leaping to Oakheart's side. "This is our territory!" Blood was welling around her narrow black muzzle, and she shook her head impatiently, scattering scarlet drops onto the rocks.

"ThunderClan will honor your courage, Nightheart, but we cannot afford to lose any more warriors," Oakheart urged. "Thistlestar would never expect his warriors to fight against these impossible odds. We will have another chance to avenge this defeat." He met Nightheart's green-eyed gaze steadily, then reared away and sprang onto a boulder at the edge of trees.

"Retreat, ThunderClan! Retreat!" he yowled. At once his warriors squirmed and struggled away from their opponents. Spitting and snarling, they backed toward Oakheart. For a heartbeat, the RiverClan cats looked confused. Was this battle so easily won? Then Redtail yowled a jubilant cry. As soon as they heard him, the RiverClan warriors raised their voices and joined their deputy in caterwauling their victory.

Oakheart looked down at his warriors. With a flick of his tail, he gave the signal and the ThunderClan cats dived down the far side of Sunningrocks, then disappeared into the trees.

Nightheart followed last. She hesitated at the edge of the forest and glanced back at the bloodstained battlefield. Her face was grim, her eyes furious slits. Then she leaped after her Clan into the silent forest.

...

In a deserted clearing, an old dark gray tom with white patches and spiky fur sat alone, staring up at the clear night sky. All around him in the shadows he could hear the breathing and stirring of sleeping cats.

A small white she-cat with tortoiseshell patches emerged from a dark corner, her pawsteps quick and soundless.

The spiky-furred cat dipped his head in greeting. "How is Mousefur?" he meowed, voice little more than a deep growl-like rumble.

"Her wounds are deep, Thistlestar," answered the she-cat, settling herself on the night-cool grass. "But she is young and strong; she will heal quickly."

"And the others?"

"They will all recover, too."

Thistlestar sighed. "We were lucky to not have lost any of our warriors this time. You are a gifted medicine cat, Sweetflower." He tilted his head again and studied the stars. "I am deeply troubled by this defeat. ThunderClan has not been beaten on its own territory since I became leader," he rumbled softly. "These are difficult times for our Clan. The season of newleaf is late, and there have been fewer kits. ThunderClan needs more warriors if it is to survive."

"But the year is only just beginning," Sweetflower pointed out calmly. "There will be more kits when greenleaf comes."

The dark gray and white patched tom twitched his broad shoulders. "Perhaps. But training our young to become warriors takes time. If ThunderClan is to defend its territory, it must have new warriors as soon as possible."

"Are you asking StarClan for answers?" meowed Sweetflower gently, following Thistlestar's gaze and staring up at the swath of stars glittering in the dark sky.

"It's in times like these that we need the words of ancient warriors to help us. Has StarClan spoken to you, sister?" Thistlestar asked.

"Not since they led me to young Fawnkit and told me to take her on as an apprentice as soon as she shows potential, no matter how old she'd be at the time."

"And how is she?" the spiky-furred cat questioned.

"She has already begun showing some promising signs of precognition and feeling emotions that are not her own as well as-" the medicine cat trailed off hesitantly, glancing at her brother warily.

Thistlestar turned his head to look at her. "As well as what, Sweetflower?"

His sister sighed. "Well, I can't know for sure, but I think she has - to a certain assent - the ability to read minds," Sweetflower admitted softly, not meeting her brother's eyes.

"Read minds?" he echoed, disbelief clouding his eyes.

The white and tortoiseshell patched she-cat didn't answer.

Giving a long and heavy sigh, Thistlestar meowed, "Very well. She will be named your apprentice tomorrow at sunhigh." His voice left no room for argument.

Sweetflower dipped her head in agreement and fixed her gaze, along with Thistlestar, back onto the clear night sky. Almost immediately a shooting star blazed over the tree tops. The medicine cat's tail twitched and the fur along her spine bristled.

Thistlestar's ears pricked but he remained silent as his sister continued to stare upward.

After a few moments, Sweetflower lowered her head and turned once again to Thistlestar. "It was a message from StarClan," she murmured. A distant look came to her eyes. "Fire will save our Clan with the help of the gentle fawn and loyal storm."

"Fire?" Thistlestar echoed. "But fire is feared by all the Clans! How can it save us? And since when are storms loyal?"

Sweetflower shook her head. "I do not know," she admitted. "But this is the message StarClan has chosen to share with me."

The ThunderClan leader fixed his burning amber eyes on the medicine cat who was also his sister. "You have never been wrong before, Sweetflower," he meowed before joking, "unlike Goosefeather!" Thistlestar sobered. "If StarClan has spoken, then it must be so. Fire will save our Clan with the help of the gentle Fawn and loyal Storm."