The night was bris and dark in the thick forest, countless sleeping forms lay in their dens beneath the twinkling stars hidden by dark clouds. A grip held the world beyond the dense camp walls; trees like claws captured the moon when it peeked out of its cloudy eyelids. Whispers carried unheard stories on the cold breath of the wind, a stale scent of mouse lingered from a long since abandoned pile of dead prey. The shadows unbroken by the soft covers of the leaves that slept overhanging from their long limbs, the grass was thick but neatly nibbled on by critters underneath. Stone walls long since broken and worn sat on the horizon, barely visible from what little light reached them.
Over the roaring hills of the moors, a deep, loud growl from the wind sent waves on the sea of the tall golden grass that broke up the slight bits of moon light that peek through every once in a while for a look. Beneath neat walls of dirt and gorse, sleeping forms slightly stirred in their dreams of chasing the stars. Their walls cased them, but the shadows were chased far from here.
The waters of the marsh rippled with the swift winds, the cold or dark had no effect on the life here. The rivers were only slightly disturbed by the little creatures that swam below, their homes buried deep into the bank. In a place of stone and weed, lay several sleeping cats that rested outside in the open. Their thick pelts covering them protected their dreams from the cold, and the placing of the jutting stones gave protection from any weather. The moon glittered here and there, and the queens carefully sheltered their kits closely.
Atop the mountain slopes, trees hid their residents below their overhanging branches. The thick interweaving branches hid most of the undergrowth below, but the sheer drops and large waterfalls were visible where trees couldn't grow. Below where most cats couldn't reach, a clearing cleared by paws went up one of the sides. In crevices and nooks, cats had made their moss covered nests. Neat lichen hid the entrances carefully, a tall stone jutted overhead with a dug out den leading underneath. One fallen tree led the way to another. Where the prey will run, lay empty shallow marks as they had scurried for cover for the night.
In the center of it all, surrounded by large circling thunderpaths stood a clearing made of trees from the forest, rock cascading from the mountain, pools left from the marsh, and golden grass from the moor; with one large pine looming overhead where many claw marks from countless moons were dug into each corner.
But the clearing was not dead, or sleeping. As eyes cascaded from the upper most branches down at the ground, blue, green, golden, and amber; they scanned the grass below. Before the dead and empty thunderpath was soon disturbed by the movement of four cats from all angles entered the mix, meeting in the center before bowing their heads.
"StarClan and our founders, please bless this gathering of the souls for our luck." One cat meowed.
All the cats lifted their heads to gaze up into the empty, lifeless, branches of the pine above them. Before returning their eyes back to each other.
"Good evening." A dark brown tabby she-cat meowed.
"Greetings." A pale brown tabby greeted back.
"Well met tonight." A dark ginger tom purred.
A tortoiseshell tom said nothing, but dipped his head in greetings to the dark ginger tom.
"Fallenbranch, there is certainly a spring in your step today."
"Three new kits have recently been born into our clan I am pleased to say, new life means new opportunities. Why the glum face, Gingersplash?" the dark brown tabby she-cat answered.
"I'm afraid that predators have been sweeping over, and it has been harder to catch prey because of their presence." The dark ginger tom responded.
The tortoiseshell tom nodded. "Same over here, I had to tell two kits that their mother died yesterday; bless their soul's ancestors."
All the cats hung their heads in respects, before raising them again. "Have we found the next chosen speakers yet?"
"MoutainClan is still waiting."
"MoorClan has an inkling."
"ForestClan is patiently waiting."
"MarshClan has made up its mind."
All four cats dipped their heads, before turning to their territories. "We must act quickly, if we are to save the clans from the threats."
Off in the mountainous regions, a single cat sniffed the ground. Her nose twitching and eyes darted upwards; she treaded carefully on her toes. The moon reflected light upon her pale gray pelt, eyes looking up towards the sky. Before returning her nose to the undergrowth below her, as she continued forward. Her head shot up with intrigue.
A mewl, tiny and helpless in the cold darkness, rang in her ears. As she scanned the undergrowth, the moon once more peeked through the dark clouds revealing something black hidden underneath a bush. as she crept forward through the deep undergrowth, she poked her head through the opening.
"A kit?"
She sniffed the small kit, definitely not the scent of the scents she had been tracking, yet the two shared some similarities. As she stretched out her neck, she latched her teeth onto its black scruff. Pulling back her head she carefully drug it out of the bushes, when her head emerged it was cut from the sharp thorns. Yet the kit she held in her jaws was unharmed.
Settling it down on the grass, the she-cat sniffed around as the kit shivered in the cold. there was nothing as far as she could tell, and the smaller helpless form kept averting her eyes back to the black kit.
Giving up on the trail, she snatched back up the kit and retreated back through the mountain range. Her pale gray pelt clung to her as she hastily made her way back through the territory before she crossed the scent markers. Settling down she stared out back where she came…
Why does she feel like she's being watched, are there eyes staring out unseen at her?
She didn't dwell on the thoughts, if there was anything planning on crossing the border it will surely be shredded. And she turned back onto her course.
As she neared the large stone walls, she stopped as dark shapes emerged. "Stop! Who goes there?"
"Bristleclaw, can you not recognize your own leader?"
A dark brown tabby she-cat poked her head out, her green eyes relaxing. "Sorry Palestar, can't be too sure nowadays; the borders have been suspicious recently."
"You're telling me, look what I found on a strange scent trail." The pale gray she-cat meowed, setting down the black kit.
The dark brown tabby sniffed at the kit at the clan leader's paws. "And you found it over the border, what about its mother?"
"Nowhere to be seen, it was shivering and mewling in the cold darkness."
Bristleclaw she-cat retreated her head, and smiled warmly down at the kit. "Quite the pipsqueak, smaller than any kit we have in camp."
Palestar laughed, smiling down at the kit. "He'll have to settle in, but I don't think he'll be quite as capable."