Mm, its been a while since I posted those allegiances, hasn't it? I finally got around to finishing the prologue (only because my tablet wasn't working! Haha!) and wanted to share it with you guys. Please enjoy, and do drop a review at the end!

Quietly

Prologue

Harsh, cold winds whisked through the half-frozen camp. Cats huddled in groups, sharing prey or simply congregating to keep themselves warm, lest they freeze their tails off. Honeyrise, the pretty golden medicine cat, swore up and down that the worst leaf-bare in many seasons was coming to a close. But that was several sunrises ago, and flakes of snow still coated the saturated ground. Despite the camp's base being sand over a hard layer of rock, the snow still managed to stay for a while.

A wail of anguish rose from the elder's den. A light brown she-cat dappled with darker spots, as well as snow, rushed out of the fallen tree, looking heartbroken as she searched desperately for Honeyrise, or her apprentice, Shiningpaw. But luck was not on the she-cat's side, as Honeyrise and Shiningpaw were out of the camp, searching for herbs to help with the unfortunate cough that had struck CliffClan during its weakest hours. Thanks to the frost catmint and other herbs of the like were extremely difficult to find.

"Please," begged the she-cat, looking around. "Please, please, someone," she whimpered. "Frozenheart, she's…" her voice broke.

A golden tabby tom dashed over, shocked. "Thrushspots, slow down. We can't understand you. What about Frozenheart? What happened to her?"

Thrushspots swallowed harshly, trying to control her tears. "She's dead," she whispered softly.

The tom's amber eyes widened, unbelieving. How could the strong former warrior be dead? It wasn't possible.

Two cats then exited the elder's den, heads held low. They had a long, silvery body held between them, flank unmoving, eyes that once shone with life closed as if sleeping. Thrushspots, upon seeing the icy looking elder, broke down again in a fit of sobs, crouching over herself to hide her face in her paws.

The two cats carrying Frozenheart placed her in the center of camp, where the fresh-kill pile usually was. For about a sunrise now the pile had been empty, all animals retreating to their dens, or dead. The two proceeded to tuck the she-cat's paws under her, curling her slightly shredded tail around her. Thrushspots saw her friend Shadewave rubbing mint and lavender on Frozenheart's silvery fur. The scent of herbs drifted across the camp, through the distraught she-cat's nose.

Thrushspots raised her head, trotting over to Frozenheart's side, burying her muzzle into her fur. "It's alright, Frozenheart. Stay safe in StarClan," she whispered, taking a deep breath. "It's better up there than it is down here."

Several days had passed since Frozenheart's death. Thrushspots was on patrol with the deputy, Sootmark, and his apprentice, Cloverpaw. They remarked borders, checking carefully to make sure they were marking in the correct places – wouldn't want to spark war between other clans when they were horrendously weak already. They saw a SandClan patrol, but weren't bothered by them. SandClan was probably worse off than they were, the lake had receded and frozen over, cutting off their main source of food.

They were just passing by the old TallTree when some bushes nearby began rustling furiously. Thrushspots started growling, crouching and unsheathing her claws. It could very well be something dangerous! Sootmark waved his tail to silence the paranoid she-cat.

"Hello?" called Sootmark, ears pricked for any sort of answer. There was none. The silence echoed across the frozen ground, spreading like blood on snow. Thrushspots shuddered at her own metaphor. Sootmark's ears twitched slightly, and Thrushspots felt her haunches raising to attack. Cloverpaw's eyes were wide, her fur on end. She was so obviously frightened. Thrushspots felt it was her duty to protect the young apprentice.

The bushes rustled again before an enormous black and white badger burst forth, its mouth frothing slightly with hunger. Its ribs showed through its once-glossy fur, but since the winter it had been clearly doing poorly. Immediately the brown warrior pounced, clawing at the badger's skin until its blood stained the snow beneath them. Sootmark was slashing at its knees, trying to bring it to the ground.

Cloverpaw was frozen a little ways away. Sootmark hadn't gotten around to teaching her battle moves yet, she had only been apprenticed a few days prior. Her pose was stiff, her claws halfway out, her eyes wide with fear at the situation so real.

Thrushspots was launched off of the badger's back suddenly, and she slammed against a nearby tree, dazed. She could barely hear the screams of Cloverpaw over the ringing in her ears. Had something happened to Sootmark!?

She struggled to her paws, black spots dancing in her eyes. Everything was white and red and white and red and whiteandredandwhiteandredand black

She collapsed into the cold snow.

It must have been a while, because when Thrushspots woke up, the badger and Sootmark were gone, and Cloverpaw was crying into the snow.

Eventually the wounded warrior had to lead the distraught apprentice home, and try and get her to say what happened. Hawkstar would have to be notified about the state of his deputy: missing. Probably dead. It wasn't often a badger dared attack a group of full-grown cats. It was a miracle Cloverpaw wasn't harmed at all, other than her shattered mind and heart. She would have to sit out of training for a few days, a half-moon, even. When the two reached the camp it had begun to snow again.

Everyone noticed when the two walked into camp without the familiar dark gray of the deputy. Honeyrise dashed over, wanting to attend to Thrushspots's injuries, but the she-cat shook her head.

"I have to get to Hawkstar," she told the worried medicine cat. Honeyrise looked hesitant, but allowed Thrushspots and Cloverpaw to scale the cliff wall to the cave den of the leader.

The pair pushed past the curtain of lichen and paused by Hawkstar, who was in his nest, sharing a meal with his mate and best warrior, Chillfrost. The light gray she-cat was the first to notice the intrusion and nodded to Hawkstar, whispered something into his ear, and then padded out of the den.

"What happened?" asked Hawkstar, sitting up with a bit of mouse stuck to his chin. "Where is Sootmark?"

Thrushspots hung her head in shame, and Cloverpaw started whimpering softly again. "I'm sorry, Hawkstar," Thrushspots whispered. "Sootmark is dead."

It was at that moment shock flew across Hawkstar's face, and Honeyrise burst into the den with a dazed looking Shiningpaw at her side.

"Hawkstar, pardon the interruption, but Shiningpaw has had a sign," Honeyrise meowed hurriedly, nodding to Shiningpaw. "Tell Hawkstar about your dream."

Hawkstar shook the shock from his face to look down at Shiningpaw, who twiddled her paws awkwardly.

"Well," she began, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground. "I was walking through the forest, in my dream. It was quiet and peaceful and I could hear birds chirping a little ways away. I had just reached the TallTree when it grew hot. I could feel sparks pricking my pelt. As I turned, I saw the tree blaze up into a flame. Then, everything went dark, and a voice whispered in my ear, 'Beware the fire, bane of the forest. Only the fire can burn out the danger in the forest. In our midst.' And then I woke up."

Hawkstar trembled slightly. "Dark times are coming," he whispered, although only Thrushspots could hear him. "and we must be wary of fire."