Fireflies danced through the towering pine trees, twinkling cheerily and diving through holly and sage brush. Stars peeked through the canopy of branches far above.
Glittering strands of moonlight filtered down and washed the empty clearing in pale moonlight.
Three cats sat silently in the delicate halflight. They watched as a fourth cat approached, stalking wordlessly over the lichen and moss covered boulders crowding the corner of the grove. His brown tabby fur glimmered with starlight and mist followed his massive, white paws.
The newcomer pause halfway through the clearing, casting a warm amber gaze over the assembled group. "Good evening, everyone," he greeted amiably, flicking an ear an lumbering forward. "I see we are all here. What is it you wanted to tell us Batshade?"
Batshade rose from where he had been sitting, rolling his broad shoulders and puffing up his deep black pelt, which glittered with constellations. "There is trouble stirring in the clans," he mewed, a rough scratch to his voice.
"I had a dream," a small brown she-cat interrupted. "A dream of gnashing teeth, fire, and blood."
"I had the same one too, Petaldance," the massive brown tabby responded, flicking his long, tufted ear. "What do you think it means?"
"I saw them in my dream too, Wolfstar," murmurs a large white she-cat. Her eyes bulge grotesquely from her head and shine with unseen constellations and supernova. "I know what they are. Massive beasts with rows of sharp white teeth and beady black eyes. They can tear a cat in half with one bite."
Petaldance suppresses a muffled gasp and Batshade takes on a melancholy expression.
"We have to warn them Nakija," Wolfstar implores gravely.
"They won't survive, even with a warning," Nakija rumbles, quivering her long, crooked whiskers.
Petaldance stands up, mist swirling around her paws. "That can't be true!" she cries.
Batshade waves his tail at her, gesturing for her to sit down again.
"No," Petaldance flashes at him, eyes burning. "We can help them! We can give them something, a sign, a gift, a power, something!"
"Sit down Petaldance, it will be okay," Wolfstar reassures her kindly, offering a smile. "We can figure something out."
"I'm not going to sit down," she shoots back furiously, lashing her tail and tending her muscles. "Nakija said the clans are going to die and you all are content to sit up here and sit in the sun while my friends and family are suffering! It's not fate, it's cruelty."
"Petaldance, please," Batshade began, leaning forwards in hopes to calm her anger, but Petaldance didn't spare him a glance. The brown she-cat turned on her heel and dashed through the dark brambles and kind white flowers, streaming tail disappearing among the foliage.
Batshade and Wolfstar cast their starry gazes to Nakija. She sighed in defeat and curled her long tail tighter against her paws. "I knew she would be like this and still invited her," the massive she-cat breathed heavily.
"She has a point," Batshade points out. "The least we could do is warn them, Nakija."
Wolfstar nods vigorously, slowly standing to his paws.
"I will give them a prophecy then," Nakija finally relents. "In a place where reality and imagination coincide, claws and scales will collide. On wings of starlight and constellations, a wave of black salvation comes on a roaring tide."
Wolfstar and Batshade nod upon hearing the prophecy.
"Starclan give them strength."