Two cats were gathered around a small pool, which showed the reflection of a Clan. . "Is it time, Twilightstar?" A gray tom asked.
"Yes," a golden she-cat purred in reply. "Nightpaw is finally getting her warrior name." She smiled at the tom, twinning her tail with his. "Our kit is all grown up!"
"Stormclaw!" A white tom bounded towards them. "I need you to deliver a prophecy to Featherstar, and then to Shadestar,"
"Now?" The gray tom, Stormclaw, asked. "Can't it wait? Nightpaw is finally getting her warrior name. Please, Snowstar?"
Snowstar looked apologetically at Stormclaw. "I'm afraid not. By the time you get into their dreams, if you leave now, it will be midnight. You won't have long to deliver it. I know you miss her, since you both died before she was even a moon old- you before she was even born-, but this is very important."
Stormclaw sighed. "Fine. What's the prophecy?"
"'The new storm shall rage war on the growing enemy. If the water from the tree cannot prevent the fire, the storm shall die out, plants will wither, and all shall be lost. Squirrels and voles are deadly and will bring great harm,'" Snowstar recited.
Stormclaw sighed. "I never did get prophecies," he said, shaking his pelt. He nuzzled Twilightstar. "Watch the ceremony for me," he told his mate, who nodded. Stormclaw shook himself again, then bounded off.
"I am sorry for interrupting," Snowstar said. "It's a shame that badger took your eighth life and Stormclaw's life."
"I'm just glad it didn't affect my kits," Twlightstar replied. "Wait- the new storm- does that mean Nightpaw?"
"I'm afraid so," Snowstar replied. "Hope the best for your kit- she may be the only hope at the Clans' survival."