Raventail crouched behind a mossy, rotting tree. The slender black tom wrinkled his nose at the stench, putrid and almost unbearable. It smelled of crowfood and death, and caused his stomach to churn. He squinted into the near distance at a small gathering of cats, who were doing an inadequate job of keeping their voices hushed. The tom swiveled his ears to pick up on every last word.
"We can't give up this easily. They'll think us weak!" snarled a mangy tom. He was scrawny, and from where he was standing, Raventail could count every last one of his ribs. Both of his ears had considerable chunks missing from them.
"We're not giving up, Wormbelly," came a matter-of-fact voice. The speaker was a huge white tom, his fur matted with dark blood that Raventail guessed was not his own and his eyes were pools of black nothingness. His claws dug into the moss underneath him, razor sharp and bloodstained. But far, far worse than his appearance was his voice. He spoke so coolly, and so commandingly and always seemed to know exactly what he was doing; and because of that, almost everyone never dared to contradict him. However, something about his voice was mysteriously alluring, and even Raventail listening from his hiding spot felt drawn to listen to this cat, to follow his orders, to ensure he got his way. Raventail shook his head in disgust.
"I have a plan," the white tom continued, his voice washing eerily over the entire group. "We're not going to let a small setback prevent our inevitable victory."
The group was silent for ages, all watching their apparent leader with wide eyes and waiting for him to continue. He looked over all of their avid expressions and a grin spread across his face, revealing fangs even deadlier than his claws, if that was possible. "I have chosen a new leader in the Clans to rebuild our army. She will become stronger and more powerful than any cat in the Clans could ever dream to be. She will restore our former glory, and soon we will be, once again, more powerful than StarClan."
The gathering gaped in awe. Slowly, their whispers grew louder as they all exclaimed over this proclamation. A new leader? But who? Who could be stronger than Hawkstar was? Raventail watched, his fur spiked up along his back, horrified at the white tom's decision. He was desperate to return and tell the council what he had witnessed, but knew he had to refrain and learn more.
The white tom let them mutter amongst themselves for a few minutes, before raising a paw and clearing his throat. The group fell silent immediately. "Stand back," he ordered, placing a paw firmly on the ground. From his paw, tendrils of green and black immediately twisted across the mossy ground, forming the shape of a very young kit. The group watched, clearly confused as to their leader's intent in showing them this. "This," the leader said in a prideful voice, "Is our savior."
There was an immediate uproar of exclamations. This kit? A weak and helpless kit save the entire dark forest? One bold tortoiseshell spoke up. "Whiteclaw… surely this is a mistake. You have to be joking! A kit? Our savior?" She finished with a pointed spit in front of her paws.
Whiteclaw's composure never wavered. Calm as ever, he stepped closer to the she-cat. She looked up at him with confidence, her silver eyes glinting, completely unfazed by her leader towering over her. "And that, Pricklefoot, is where you are wrong. I don't make mistakes. I make enemies." And without hesitation, he swiftly raised his giant paw and tore the she-cat's throat out. She fell immediately limp on the ground, her eyes glazed over, the hint of a sneer still lingering on her face. Whiteclaw flicked the fresh blood off of his claws and allowed Pricklefoot's blood to pool around him as he observed the rest of the group. "Does anyone else have anything they'd like to say?" A few of the more muscular warriors looked up, but another glance at the she-cat's twitching body and they held their tongues.
Whiteclaw lifted a paw out of the thick blood he was standing in and carelessly observed it. Without looking up, he offhandedly flicked his tail. "Dismissed," he purred. The group of cats didn't hesitate in scattering, and Raventail took the opportunity to sprint away, back into StarClan's territory.
The tom was breathing hard, and the metallic scent of blood still lingered in his nostrils. He squinted as he re-entered the much brighter fields of StarClan, quickly making his way to the council's gathering place. When he arrived, dozens of starry-furred cats were waiting for him, perched in a semicircle of rocky ledges overhanging a reflective pool and a smooth, large stone. He stepped onto the stone and addressed the council. "I located Whiteclaw and his followers and was able to observe their gathering," he said in a low voice.
A light brown tabby she-cat replied, "And what did you discover? Are they planning something, as our scouts suspect?" The council swiveled their ears curiously towards Raventail.
"They've chosen a DawnClan kit. Whiteclaw intends to raise her to follow him, and use her to overtake the Clans once again. They called the kit their 'savior'," Raventail said in clear disgust.
The council was silent, gazing at him with wide eyes. "Then we must kill the kit," a deep-voiced tom said suddenly. "We can't let them rise again."
"It's an innocent kit, Ryeleap! We can't kill a helpless kit for what it might do," argued a small calico she-cat.
"I agree," said the brown tabby definitively. "But we must do something." The council fell silent once again, each deep in their own thoughts.
Raventail paced on the stone, ideas racing around his mind. "What if we counteract Whiteclaw by using his own plan ourselves," he said finally, looking nervously up to the council for approval.
"That's not a bad idea," murmured a silver tom. "We could select a Clan kit as our own 'savior' and use them to keep the dark forest under control."
The council nodded in agreement. "All in favor?" the brown tabby mewed. Almost every paw went up. "It is decided."
The council dispersed, only a few of the wisest remaining to select a kit as their champion. Raventail peered deep into the depths of the crystal pool, contemplating. The rest of those remaining stood beside him.
He took a deep, shaky breath.
"This is going to work," the calico she-cat said lightly, placing her paw on his.
"It has to," Raventail whispered.