Prologue:

The night air near the river was usually very peaceful. The water, rippling softly through the forest and slithering its way across the landscape like a snake, was cold tonight. Along one side of its green banks layed a collection of massive boulders. These boulders were highly sought after, not only for territory by those who lived there, but also for comfort. The massive gray boulders were a great part of history, and provided warmth for those who lounged atop them during the day. They were a prize; they were bragging rights.

These boulders were the exact reason for why there were dark shapes slinking in the forest's edge tonight. Moving stealthily, several shapes left the safety of the trees' shadows and moved out into the open. Crouched low, with bandaged hands, these figures stealthily climbed the boulders jutting out of the shore. Pausing at the top, these figures peered into the darkness and found similar shadows, these ones emerging from the water instead of the forest.

There were no words as battle erupted atop the rocks. Those who had emerged from the forest clashed with those from the river, and war cries split the air. In seconds, the once peaceful riverside became a war zone, full of forceful blows and trained kicks. At the center of it, the worst was being fought.

"Oakheart!" A brown-haired man was gripping his opponent by the collar of his shirt and forcing him painfully against the cold stone. His breathing was coming heavily, hot with fury. "How dare you hunt in our territory? The Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!"

"After tonight, Tigerclaw, this will just be another RiverClan hunting ground." The man being pinned panted. Sweat was running off his forehead as his hands braced themselves against his assailant. Grabbing firm fistfuls of fabric, he tried to break his assailant's hold on his collar, but was unable to.

A call came from further up the bank, "More RiverClan warriors are approaching!"

Tigerclaw looked up at this. More dark shapes were gliding silently through the water as though there were fish themselves. They stood from the river, water streaming from their sodden clothes and hair but not caring as they hurled themselves into battle.

He turned back to the man, Oakheart, he had pinned to the rock. During his brief distraction, the man had been attempting to get his feet up in order to kick out, but he corrected their position by strengthening his hold and prevented the attack.

"You may swim like otters, Oakheart." he snarled, lifting the warrior from the ground before smashing him back into the cold stone. "But you and your warriors do not belong in this forest!"

A scream split the air and he found himself distracted from his own battle once more. A woman was being forced face-first against a tree, her arm being held at an awkward angle behind her back by a water-dripping RiverClan warrior. The woman had a short, masculine haircut and he recognized her at once despite the darkness. It was Mousefur, one of his own warriors.

Throwing down Oakheart against the stone one final time, Tigerclaw broke away. He ran full-force at the sodden warrior and tackled him. There was a grunt as they both collided with the ground, Tigerclaw landing on top of the warrior. Mousefur cried out in pain again.

"Quick, Mousefur! Run!" He called as he fought for the upper hand. In just a moment, Tigerclaw soon found himself straddling his opponent and took the opportunity to send multiple punches flying at the man's face.

Mousefur was bleeding from a cut above her eye and the blood was blinding her. She whipped it onto her arm hurriedly and blinked rapidly through the darkness as she tried to regain her wits. Then, as she could see once more, she turned and ran off into the forest, cradling her injured arm close to her chest.

The RiverClan tom was suddenly out of Tigerclaw's grasp. They were both jumping to their feet in a flash, but the RiverClan warrior was ready. As Tigerclaw faced him, the warrior sent a rounding kick to his face and Tigerclaw stumbled backward with the explosion of pain. His hands flew up to his now bleeding nose. Not only was it broken, but a large gash had cut open across it.

The RiverClan delivered another swift kick that sent him crashing to the ground. Tigerclaw's breath was coming in ragged, growling heaves now. In an instant, he had hooked his foot around the warrior's and the man came crashing to the ground beside him. Tigerclaw rolled on top of him and reared his fist back to deliver a punishing blow.

The man cried out as Tigerclaw's blow landed, and another person came up beside them. His person was shorter than most men, but his stature was strong still. He placed a hand on Tigerclaw's shoulder, using his free one to brush his long red hair from his face.

"Tigerclaw!" he said over the roar of the battle, "This is useless! There are too many RiverClan warriors for us to fight."

"No, Redtail," Tigerclaw threw his opponent down and clambered to his feet. Blood was streaming from a cut the warrior had left on his nose, staining the stone beneath him, but he paid no attention to it as he faced his deputy. "This is our territory! We will not be beaten!"

"ThunderClan honors your courage, Tigerclaw. But Bluestar would never want us to face off against such unbeatable odds. We will have another chance to fight." The man met Tigerclaw's gaze evenly for several heartbeats, then turned and climbed to the highest rock amidst the fighting. "Retreat, ThunderClan! Retreat!"

His words had an instantaneous effect. The second that he had begun his call, the ThunderClan warriors were ripping away from their opponents and running for the trees. Redtail joined them at the forest's edge, where he surveyed his wounded Clanmates for a short moment. But, as the RiverClan warriors raised their voices in howling victory and jeering insults, he dove into the forest with his Clanmates following closely behind.

Tigerclaw stayed in the shadows for a moment, fists clenched so tightly that his own nails drew blood from the palms of his hands. His normally slicked back hair fell in front of his face, and he took a deep, shaky breath as he stared with fury at the RiverClan warriors before him. Then, as Oakheart turned his victorious gaze to meet Tigerclaw's one of heated hatred, Tigerclaw turned and strode away into the dark forest.

Back in the camp, after all of the warriors had been treated and sent to bed, two people remained in the quiet, moonlit clearing. The first was the leader of ThunderClan, a tall woman with strong muscles and shoulder-length gray hair. Having been awake all since dawn, she still wore her day's clothes. She was sitting atop a large, smoothed boulder at the far end of her camp.

Beside her, a younger woman was climbing up the back of the rock to join her at the top. This girl had paler skin than most in her Clan, and was prettier too. She was rather short, which was something that she had inherited from her mother, and was neat with her short brown hair kept tucked delicately behind her ears. She carried with her the sweet scent of herbs and flowers, which contrasted deeply with the bloodstains on her clothes tonight.

The younger woman made her way up the rock to join her leader quietly at the top. Sitting there beside her, she looked upwards at the stars with a sigh. Her hands worked absentmindedly at unbuttoning the vest that she wore and she shrugged it off, folding it exhaustion in front of her. It wasn't often that you saw her, or any person who practices medicine, without their vest. But the leader did not comment.

"How is Mousefur?" she asked instead.

"Her wounds are deep, and her shoulder was dislocated." the young medicine-woman replied as she set her folded vest neatly on the stone beside her. "But she is young and strong. She will heal quickly."

Bluestar sighed at her words, relieved. "You are a gifted medicine-woman, Spottedleaf. But I worry for our Clan. We are lucky that we hadn't lost any warriors tonight. ThunderClan has not been beaten in its own territory since I have become leader, but we are finding ourselves in difficult times now. The season of newleaf is late and we have very few kits being born. ThunderClan is going to need more warriors if it is to survive."

"The year is only beginning, Bluestar." Spottedleaf told her. "There will be more kits when greenleaf arrives."

"But it takes years to train kits into warriors," Bluestar argued, though her eyes never left the starry sky above them. "It takes ten years before a kit can even be given a mentor. And then it takes eight years after that for their training to be complete. We need warriors now to survive, not eighteen years too late."

Spottedleaf glanced at her leader, then back to the night sky. "Are you asking StarClan for an answer?" she asked.

"It is times like this where we need the guidance of our ancestor's words. Has StarClan spoken to you recently?"

"Not for some moons, Bluestar."

It was just then that a shooting star shot across the sky. It's flight left a blazing trail after it, and Spottedleaf stiffened at the sight. Her hands clenched tightly in her lap, and her eyes stared unblinking upwards. It seemed as though she was no longer aware of her surroundings, instead completely captivated by what she saw before her.

Bluestar placed her hands behind her and leaned back patiently to wait. The medicine-woman recovered from her vision with a sharp gasp, and her following breaths were ragged as though she had run across the entire territory without stopping. She stared downwards at her hands with bewilderment, and Bluestar waited for her to speak.

"It was a message from StarClan," The girl finally said, her voice sounding rather distant. "Fire alone can save us."

Bluestar was bemused. "Fire?" She asked, "But fire is used for cooking food, and it is deadly if not watched carefully. How can fire save us?"

"This is what StarClan has chosen to share," Spottedleaf told her simply, shaking her head as though to clear her mind.

"Very well," Bluestar frowned, but did not press any further. "If StarClan has spoken, then it must be so. Fire alone will save our Clan."