"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!"
A shiver of excitement ran through Featherkit when the yowl from outside the nursery reached her ears. The pale grey tabby leaped to her paws from where she had been dozing at her mother's side in their nest, tail high and an eager glint in her amber eyes. A meeting meant that she would be able to go outside, and even if it would only be for a short time, it had been nearly a quarter moon since she had last been able to.
The kits of CliffClan were forbidden to leave the confines of the nursery until they were four moons old, and even then it was only when there were at least two pairs of watchful eyes on them. The rule had been made long ago to prevent the Clan's youngest members from falling from the edge of the outcrop on the high, steep cliffs to the rocky shore far below. The rocky shelf that their camp was found on was several fox-lengths wide with plenty of space for the whole of CliffClan to gather, but they didn't want to rick any kits who did not yet know better taking a tumble if they could help it. Featherkit, at just over three and a half moons, believed herself to be plenty old and smart enough to be able to go outside whenever she pleased, but rules were rules and for now she would just have to wait and do her best to be patient.
"Come on Dustkit, hurry up!" She chirped impatiently at her littermate as her calmer and less excitable sister roused herself from their nest as well.
Their mother, a pretty tabby named Tawneycloud, purred in amusement and gathered the two together with her tail and padded towards the entrance of the spacious nursery cavern; the other queen Dappleleaf herding her litter outside as well.
Eyes squinted at the harsh sunlight, so different than the dimness of the cave, but they adjusted quickly enough and Featherkit gazed around at the gathered cats who had all emerged from their own dens in the various cracks in the cliff face and sat facing the high outcrop at the far end of camp where a dark tabby tom looked down at them.
Thornstar was a relatively young leader by Clan standards, and had received his nine lives from StarClan barely a season ago, just before Featherkit and Dustkit had been born. His predecessor Ivystar had lost her last life in the same MeadowClan raid that their father had been killed in.
Their camp may be hard to reach for any invading warriors, the steep climb down treacherous to any cat not accustomed to it, but Featherkit had heard of how the MeadowClan cats had waited for the dawn patrol to emerge over the top of the cliffs that morning, and how one had slammed into her father and sent Sparrowfur flying down to his death before any cat realized what was happening. She did not think she was meant to know about that particular detail of the story, but she heard the whispers. She knew the Clans had been more hostile the past few seasons than any cat could remember. Even now, she could see scrapes and healing wounds littering the pelt of just about every warrior and apprentice that was gathered.
"As some of you already know," Thornstar began once the Clan had settled. "Snaketail's patrol encountered a group on ForestClan cats sneaking around on our territory earlier today." Angry muttering and growls rose up among the gathered cats but they quieted as their leader carried on. "They were chased off and back over the stream into their own territory, but I've heard of one cat who's ferocity stood out. After discussing it with her mentor, I have decided that it is time for Nightpaw to become a warrior."
The muttering started up again, but in a much happier and approving tone this time around. Featherkit peered through the crowd and spotted the dark pelt of Nightpaw crouching next to her mentor Sundapple, her green eyes bright in both surprise and delight. The spotted ginger warrior gave her a gentle nudge and the black and white she-cat got to her paws carefully and padded towards the Highrock. Featherkit saw one of her ears was torn and she had a painful looking scrape down her flank; injuries from today's battle she assumed, but Nightpaw seemed to be making an effort now to make it seem they did not bother her.
"I, Thornstar, leader of CliffClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice." Featherkit felt a shiver run through her as the tabby spoke the ceremonial words. "She has trained hard and learned our ways, so I commend her to you as a warrior on her turn. Nightpaw, do you promise to protect and defend CliffClan, even at the cost of your own life?"
The young she-cat bowed her head, voice unwavering. "I do."
"Then by the power of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Nightpaw, from this moment on you shall be known as Nightstorm. StarClan honors your bravery and fighting prowess, and welcome you as a full warrior of CliffClan."
Thornstar leaped down from the Highledge to press his muzzle to the she-cat's head, and she gave his shoulder a respectful lick in return as the rest of the clan took up yowling her new name.
"Nightstorm! Nightstorm! Nightstorm!"
Featherkit and Dustkit joined in the cheers excitedly, watching as the gathered cats moved forward to meow their congratulations and welcome their newest warrior. Nightstorm was a well liked young cat among the clan and Featherkit knew her well enough from when she would visit the nursery to help the queens as part of her apprentice duties. She was kind and patient with her and the other kits, often taking time to tell them stories and teach them new games. She had clearly proved herself to be just as capable on the battlefield as well, so Featherkit silently wished her well and looked forward to the day she and her sister would join her in the warrior's den, however many moons away that still was.
"Nightstorm! Nightstorm! Nightstorm!"
The yowling gradually died down, and the kit felt her mother's tongue lap gently at her ear. "Remember my sweets," Tawneycloud purred. "That will be you up there one day."
"Of course Mama!" Dustkit chirped back, her splotched brown and white fur bristling in excitement at the prospect. "We'll train real hard and put those other Clans in their place if they try to mess with us!"
While Featherkit desperately awaited the day she would receive her warrior name, she couldn't help but hesitate, amber eyes darting back to once again survey the injuries that littered her clan-mates' pelts. At what cost? There would always be rivalries and squabbles between the clans, but she thought of Ivystar and her father, Sparrowfur, who she'd never even gotten to meet, as well as the countless other cats who had lost their lives in pointless battles.
The pale tabby shook the thoughts away and pressed her nose into her mother's spotted pelt with a purr. "We'll make you proud Mama."
A small tortoiseshell she-kit crouched beside an unmoving mass of dark tabby fur, green eyes normally so bright and full of mischief, now clouded over in grief and staring forlornly at the fallen tom-cat. He was dead. Her father, the only real blood kin she had in ForestClan, was dead.
He's with StarClan now, she thought glumly. But he should still be here with me.
Stoneclaw had been part of the patrol that had ventured across the stream into CliffClan territory on some scouting mission for Stormstar, which wasn't uncommon, but it had been just after midday when the patrol returned, way sooner than was expected.
Yowls of alarm had rose up around camp as the deputy, Foxfur, pushed his way into the clearing, followed by Crowblaze and Jaypaw dragging Stoneclaw's unconscious body between them. All of the cats bore wounds of a vicious battle, her fathers' being the worst of all. A deep gash had been torn in his throat and no matter what Spottedpelt had tried, the medicine cat had been unable to stop the bleeding and the warrior had given into his wounds before the day was over. He never even woke up, just limply sprawled out on the floor of the medicine den as Spottedpelt fretted about, the life slowly draining out of him.
The kit jumped when she felt another cat's tail gently brush her flank. Lifting her head, she met the gaze of her foster mother, Whitecloud. "Dawnkit, you should come back to the nursery and rest." The queen's words were soft, concern and sorrow showing plain on her face, but the kit shook her head and buried her nose into her father's pelt.
"No," she mewled firmly. There was no way she was going to leave his side until the time came for the elders to collect his body for burial at dawn. Other cats who had been close to her father were sitting vigil the entire night, and she was determined to do the same.
Whitecloud sighed softly, leaning down to give the kit a gentle lick between the ears. "As you wish." The brown and white queen was hardly surprised; Stoneclaw had been every part the doting and loving father to the she-kit, and the two had a very close bond.
Dawnkit was not her daughter by blood, but she had suckled and cared for her since she was born. Her real mother, Dawnblaze, had been one of the rare rogue cats accepted into the clans. The fierce, beautiful she-cat had proved herself to Stormstar and StarClan alike and earned her warriors name after many challenging moons. Stoneclaw had been quite smitten with the fiery she-cat, and it hadn't been long after that when her belly began to gently swell with his kits. If only her kitting hadn't been such a difficult one… She had not survived the ordeal, and only one of her newborns had come into the world with any life to them. Dawnkit. She was like a tiny copy of her mother, and Stoneclaw had given her the name with such a heartbroken look in his eyes it still pained her to think of.
Dawnkit breathed a small sigh of relief as the queen turned and padded back to the nursery, glad she had not tried to force her to leave. She was terribly shaken by her father's sudden death, and even as she crouched there beside his unmoving body, she found it hard to believe that he was really gone forever. He's with StarClan now, she reminded herself bitterly. Never again would Stoneclaw visit her in the nursery, bringing her choice prey and new exciting stories. He wouldn't teach her any more games or help her refine early fighting moves or her hunting crouch. She'd never see his amber eyes look at her with that special mix of love and pride that was reserved just for her.
A fresh wave of grief washed over her and the tortoiseshell kit leaned in to bury her face into his tabby pelt. Sure she had Whitecloud caring for her, and Sagekit and Tansykit who were the only littermates she had ever known, but it wasn't the same. Maybe if her real mother had survived things would be different. Stoneclaw had told her about Dawnblaze, and spoke of her with such a sorrowful yearning that Dawnkit found herself loving and missing the she-cat too.
If only things in the Clans weren't so hostile and distrusting. Dawnblaze's death may have been unavoidable, but if Stormstar hadn't sent her father into enemy territory he would still be alive. Anger swelled inside her at the thought, not at the leader necessarily, but at the way things were. Why were the spy patrols even needed, and why were they attacked so ruthlessly when they were discovered? Skirmishes and disputes between the Clan's had always been a part of their lives, but she had heard the elders murmur longingly of a time many seasons past when ForestClan had almost gotten along and respected the other Clans. Why had things changed? Needlessly slaying enemy warriors on the battlefield had not brought honor to the cat who struck the killing blow until recently, and maybe if that were still true less would lose their lives like Stoneclaw had.
Dawnkit shook her head at the thought, if only things were so easy. Every warrior in ForestClan openly despised the other Clans, and while a part of her wanted nothing more than to take revenge for her father's death, she knew it would change nothing. She would just keep the cycle of bloodshed and hatred going...