Thunderstorm's fur stood on end once the territory that he knew was out of sight. The cold wind that rustled through his fur did nothing to reassure him. Windstorm's front claws sheathed and unsheathed nervously as the trio stopped for a rest. Rainstorm looked up at the highest peaks of the hills, taking note of the white caps that were shrouded in clouds. She wondered if, upon reaching the top, they would find the entrance to Nightclan.
"So how are we going to go about finding the kits?" Windstorm asked once he had caught his breath. The air was thinner, making it harder to breathe the higher they climbed. "There's no scent for us to track."
Thunderstorm and Rainstorm traded looks. Neither of them had thought of that.
"Well, hopefully we can find someone that lives here that would know which way they went," Rainstorm ventured. Windstorm huffed in irritation as Thunderstorm nodded along. He didn't have high hopes. Who would be crazy enough to live in this forsaken place? There was barely any food, water, or shelter. Both Windstorm and Rainstorm had heard stories about their ancestors that had crossed the Towering Hills to make their home where the clans currently were settled. Neither could imagine multiple clans trekking across these hills. The three cats had been at traveling for three suns now and each one was harder than the sun before.
Out of the corner of his eye, Windstorm saw a rabbit streak across the open ground. Instinctually, he gave chase. Any fresh-kill was a welcome relief for the starving travelers. Fresh-kill was rare nowadays. Not much could survive in the Towering Hills, besides the occasional rabbit and mouse. There were plenty of birds but they were difficult to catch.
The rabbit was nearly in his grasp when another form shot out from a group of nearby shrubs and bowled over Windstorm. The tom let out a screech of surprise as he rolled on the hard rock.
"Windstorm!" Rainstorm cried as another cat seemed to come out of nowhere and attack her companion. Her claws unsheathed as the black cat raced to protect her friend. Thunderstorm followed close on her tail.
As Windstorm rolled to a stop, Rainstorm slowed her pace and approached the stranger, teeth bared and legs stiff to appear threatening. She could tell that the stranger was a tom, and a heavily built one at that. His body was covered with scars of battles past, though most looked like they hadn't come from fellow cats.
"Rock!" A feminine voice cried out. Thunderstorm looked around and was barely able to see a light-gray tabby she-cat crossing the rocks and shrubbery. She was headed in their direction.
"Stay back, Day!" the tom growled in warning and…protectiveness? The she-cat slowed and gracefully came to a stop slightly above the trio of strangers and the tom called Rock. She looked between the group nervously.
"You could have killed me!" Windstorm hissed in rage as he got to his paws. His tail stood out straight and stiff behind him while his fur rose along his spine.
"You were hunting our prey!" the other tom spat. "You have no right to hunt here!"
"We didn't know that anyone lived here," Thunderstorm broke in calmly, though his body language betrayed how nervous he felt. "We haven't seen anyone in suns other than us."
" That's because those who live in the area know how to blend in better than you lot," Rock hissed.
"Rock!" the she-cat above them admonished quietly at the tom's harsh tone. She didn't want a fight. Her and Rock were outnumbered and Rock was really the only one of the pair that would be able fend off the trio.
"What, Day?" Rock asked. "Do you want me to treat them nicely? They're strangers. Don't you remember what happened the last time strangers came into our territory?"
"We don't plan to stay long," Thunderstorm mewed quietly. "We'll keep moving if you direct us out of your territory. We're just looking for our kits."
Both Day and Rock's gaze snapped toward the tom in wary curiosity.
"Kits?" Day asked. Rainstorm nodded eagerly.
"A few of our kits were taken from us. We've been following the trail to get them back for nearly a moon now."
Day's tail twitched nervously.
"By abnormally large cats?" she asked. Rainstorm nodded.
"Have you had trouble with them as well?" she asked the grey she-cat. If they did, maybe Day and Rock knew where the kits had been taken.
"We did until we moved," Day said. "They haven't been able to find us. They stole our kits as well. They must have expanded their range."
Rainstorm nodded and she realized they had forgotten something.
"We promise we mean no harm," she said. "We're just trying to get our kits back. I'm Rainstorm, and this is Windstorm and Thunderstorm." Rainstorm used her tail to indicate who was who.
Rock and Day traded surprised looks at the mention of the names. Day leaped down to stand next to Rock and mewed something quietly. The three black cats could make out a few words here and there.
"…storms…black fur…matching color…could it be?"
Feeling awkward, Thunderstorm interrupted the hushed conversation.
"Is everything okay?" he asked. Rock and Day broke apart.
"I think you should come with us," Rock said, looking among all three strangers.
"I'm Day that Never Ends,, a hunter" Day added. "And he's Rock that Tumbles, a protector. We're from the Clan of the Mountains."
Clan of the Mountains? Rainstorm was surprised to hear that an entire clan lived in the Towering Hills. How did they keep themselves fed? Or was this the legendary clan that had helped Forestclan and Moorclan across the Towering Hills when the clans had originally made the journey. Had they really survived for that long?
"Why should we come with you?" Windstorm asked, ever the cautious one.
"Because our leader will want to speak with you. There's a prophecy that's been among our clan for generations that we think you are a part of."
