Hello everyone. Sorry this took so long; many circumstances (including a bout of writer's block) have caused my delays in updating. So here we go. R&R por favor! Please! Bitte!
Prologue
A large moon filled the night sky, accented by thousands of stars. However, the tall peaks of the mountains, as well as some clouds that threatened a storm, blocked most of the sky. This didn't bother the large gray tom who was roughing it on the rocks; he preferred not many saw him tonight. His nightly quest was quite dangerous and the less he was noticed, the better.
He soon descended into the soft prairie. The ground felt too soft under his paws, and the tom curled a lip in disgust. But the tall grasses hid his large form well. It wasn't long before he passed the border of one of the warrior Clans that lived in the valley below his mountain home. Their scent made him gag; it was sharp and bitter, almost like mouse bile mixed with dead grass. The tom kept moving, making his way to the heart of the grassy Clan's territory. Right to their camp.
The tom hunched down in the grass, gazing at the camp entrance. A small form stood guard, its gender and coloring indefinable in the shadows. The gray tom inhaled sharply. A young tom. Perfect.
The warrior in question looked up, as if the sound had caught his attention. He squinted, trying to determine if any of the shadows held intruders. It wasn't until the trespasser had pinned him down that the warrior saw the huge gray tom. He opened his mouth to sound the alarm, but a large paw pressed down on his windpipe. A stray moonbeam glanced off the gray tom's head, and the warrior gave a strangled gasp.
"Skull…"
Lengthy claws extended and pierced the warrior in the neck. He let out a quite gurgle, and then was dead, blood flowing from his wounds. The gray tom, who obviously went by the name Skull, grunted and stepped up off his victim. He cast his bright yellow eyes around, peering through the eyeholes of his head covering. Scenting the air, he located the nursery. As he approached it, he heard the faint squeaks of sleeping kits.
Skull ducked into the nursery, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. Several she-cats lay sleeping in separate nests, their kits nestled against them. Now, he just had to choose one: preferably an older one that wouldn't need milk or a mother to survive. Skull located a queen with older looking kits, maybe 5 or 6 moons old. There were three of them, two with lighter pelts, one darker. Even as he watched him, the dark kit slowly raised her head and yawned. As if it could tell he was there, the kit whipped around and stared at Skull.
"Who're you?" the kit said clearly. Intense blue eyes gazed out of her dark brown face. It was a she-kit. Skull glanced quickly around to see if she'd awoken anyone else.
"My name is Skull," he growled softly. "Kit, would you like to go on an adventure?"
The she-kit thought for a moment. "Maybe. Where're we going?"
"To the mountains. You'll get to see mountain animals. Big scary ones. Are you up for it?" Skull pretended to look at her critically.
The kit's eyes hardened into chips of ice. "Of course I am! I'll meet a wolf, and I'll tear it to shreds! That'll make Leafkit jealous." The brown she-kit glanced scornfully at her dappled sister.
Good, Skull thought. She has a jealous heart, and knows hate. This is the one. Skull carefully shook a few seeds from between his claws. He'd been careful to keep them intact his whole trip.
"Eat these," he commanded.
The she-kit looked at them disdainfully. "What are they?"
"They'll make you strong for your adventure. Trust me."
"Well… okay." She carefully licked up the seeds. Then she looked back at her mother. "Should I let her know I'm going?"
"No." Skull said quickly.
"Besides," she murmured, almost to herself. "We'll be back before morning, right?"
"Of course," Skull purred. It would be good of the she-kit was gullible too.
Skull backed out of the nursery, and the she-kit followed him. In the moonlight, Skull could see that her pelt was mainly dark brown, but she had black paws, and black specks that reminded him of the accent marks of a wolf. She was perfect.
At the sight of the bone on Skull's head, the she-kit stared. "What that? On your head?"
"I'll tell you when we leave camp." He bounded ahead of the she-kit, remembering that the dead sentry's body was still lying out. He grabbed it and quickly moved it into the shadows. Luckily, the she-kit didn't find his behavior strange, and they passed through the entrance without incident.
Once outside, Skull answered her question. "This is a skull, the bone inside your head. This particular skull belonged to my brother. He was killed without reason, so I wear his skull so that when I find his killer, they'll know I've come for revenge."
"That's kind of sad," the she-kit commented. "Do you know who killed him?"
"It was a Clan cat," Skull growled. The she-kit gasped, but didn't say anything. After a few silent moments, Skull looked back to see that she-kit had stopped.
"Skull, I feel sleepy…" Her eyes were glazed over and she swayed on her feet. Without preamble, she collapsed to the ground, deep in a drugged sleep.
Skull snorted. It was annoying to travel while carrying the sleeping kit, but it was necessary to keep her from escaping. Once in the mountains, it wouldn't matter.
The moon was just starting to set when Skull reached his destination. A large cave yawned in front of him, the reek of wolf blowing over the gray tom's nostrils. Skull dropped the she-kit to the ground, where she gave a small whimper in her sleep.
"Bardolf! Come Bardolf, I've brought you a gift."
Something stirred in the cave, but when the wolf appeared, it was not the large silver brute Skull was expecting, but a black and gray one. The wolf shivered when he saw who had called. This may have seemed odd to anyone else, but wolves are highly suspicious, and the Skull's namesake that he wore on his head filled the wolves with fear. That was the only reason they'd agreed to not kill him initially.
"Skull." The wolf nodded. "What is it you want on this night of wolves?" The brute was referring to the huge moon, known as the wolf moon.
"Conall." Skull's skull rattled ominously as he jutted out words in the wolf language. "Bring Bardolf."
The black wolf stared for a moment at Skull and his strange bundle, before disappearing into the cave. When he reappeared, he was followed by not one, but two other wolves. The one Skull was looking for was the silver Alpha, known as Bardolf.
"Welcome, Skull." Bardolf dipped his head ever so slightly. The third wolf said nothing. He was a strange pale red wolf, with mismatched eyes, one of blue and the other brown. He was known as Jinx, and Skull knew why he was here. He was the pack's Shaman.
"I've brought you your vengeance." Skull nudged the brown she-kit with his paw.
Conall laughed. "You've brought us a snack!" He was quickly silenced by a growl from Bardolf, who turned angrily to Skull.
"What do you mean by this? You promised me a warrior, a spy, one who would be loyal to me!" He growled menacingly.
Skull hissed. "That's what I've brought! How do you think you'll get a Clan cat to be loyal to you if you do not raise it, live with it, fill its head with your ideas and thoughts. This kit will grow strong with the wolves, and will love only the wolves. Eventually, she will be ready to help you bring down the Clans."
As Skull spoke, Bardolf's anger faded and was replaced by a look of shining hope in his eyes. Hope for his family to once again hunt in the verdant valley, instead of stuck in the cold mountains. "Of course, Skull, I see what you mean. If we raise it like us, it will be like us. What do you think of it, Jinx?" The Alpha turned to his Shaman.
The red wolf leaned forward and sniffed the brown she-kit. "See she is colored like the wolf; she has the wolf's markings. This is good. And she is strong-looking." Jinx looked up. "This one will do well here. I can take care of her memories. She'll never remember her previous life." He licked his chops, chuckling.
Bardolf nodded. "Very well. Tasha is expecting pups, so the kit will have someone to grow up with." He gave a wolfish grin. Then he looked down at the brown she-kit. "What's its name?"
Skull shrugged. "It doesn't matter what her mother called her. She'll have a new name." He pondered for a moment, and then growled, "She'll be called Rippedheart, because I ripped her from the heart of her Clan."
Back in the valley, outside a rough stone den that smelled of herbs, two cats sat staring at the stars. The larger of the two, a reddish-brown tom, was teaching his apprentice about the stars.
"Each star," he said, "is a SpiritClan warrior. They watch over us and guide our paws on the right path. They send us dreams to tell us of the future."
His apprentice, a small blue-gray she-cat, was transfixed by one certain star. "What about that one, Russetblaze? The red one?"
Russetblaze stiffened. It was a dull red star that seemed to pulse slowly as he stared at it. As the medicine cat apprentice watched, her mentor's eyes glazed over, and his body shook all over. Just as the small she-cat was beginning to worry, Russetblaze returned to normal.
"That, Whisperpaw, is what we call the wolf star," he finally murmured. "It's a bad omen; SpiritClan sends it to us when the wolves of the mountain become restless and their minds turn evil." He looked down at Whisperpaw. "But don't worry. SpiritClan will lead us through the dark times, and the Clans will prevail."