CHAPTER 5

Fernpaw's eyes flickered open to a snowy forest. Rubbing at them with a paw, she sat up.

Where am I?

"Why, StarClan, of course!" she heard someone purr. Her head whipped around, startled. "Who are you?"

A white tom with gray points emerged from the underbrush. "My name is Hickoryfoot. It is my pleasure, entirely, to make your acquaintance." He bowed. Fernpaw couldn't help but notice that the tom was eerily translucent, as she could see the bushes behind him.

Hickoryfoot stood up. "I'm sure that this is your first time here, by the way you're acting," he noted, seeming amused. "No need to fret, you're safe here."

"Are all StarClan cats this...clear?" Fernpaw attempted to place a paw on the tom's chest, only for it to fall back down onto the ground. He winced. "No, not quite. The more recent members of StarClan are much more solid."

The golden molly cocked her head. "Why?"

Hickoryfoot chuckled. "You're just full of questions, aren't you?" Fernpaw nodded. "Well," the tom began. "The more cats that remember you, the more opaque you are. The older you are, the less cats that remember you. And trust me, I am very, very old." he sighed dramatically. "Old as the Clans you know and love today!"

"Wow," Fernpaw whispered in awe. Hickoryfoot nodded. "Yes, I know. Old. But I'm not here just to tell you about that. I'm here to welcome both of you to the field of medicine."

"Both of us?" Fernpaw glanced around. "Where's Hollypaw?"

A loud groan came from a shrub, and Hollypaw stumbled out. "There," Hickoryfoot grimaced. "It seems she's woken up in a...less fortunate place than you."

"Yeah," she grumbled as she tried to pull a thorn from her pad.

"You'll be fine, I'm sure," Hickoryfoot comforted. "But now that we're all here, I have something to warn you of. A prophecy."

"What is it?" Hollypaw asked, spitting the thorn onto the ground. Hickoryfoot cleared his throat. "Well," he meowed, "I'm not sure exactly how to explain it, because it's so vague, but..."

"Show us," Fernpaw demanded.

"I, um..." he stuttered. "I can't promise it'll be pleasant, but I'll try."

He brushed a forepaw hesitantly against Fernpaw's forehead, and darkness swallowed her once more.

Blinking her eyes open, Fernpaw found herself on a cliff. Fires blazed in the distance, and black smoke filled her lungs. Coughing violently, she tried to call for help, only to find her throat was dry and cracked. Her vision dimmed, and she slumped to the ground.

I'm going to die, she thought. I'm going to die.