Author's Note: I would just like to let everyone know before reading that I have only read the first four series and have not read anything else (including series 5+, super editions, manga, or extras). Therefore, most of the characters from the clans will derive from The Prophecies Begin, since I think it's what I want to work with for now. I may add additional characters later (like the Jayfeather generation), but I will be keeping it with the original cast for now. Also, since there are no twolegs in this world, any instance of twolegs before A Dangerous Path will be considered to be the product of something else.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story.

Prologue

Streaks of dark red and purple lined the clouds in the sky as the sun began to set. Trees rustled as a cool, leaf-fall breeze blew over the plains, and crisp, brown leaves were shaken from the trees and fell onto the ground in piles. Mice and other woodland creatures often scampered through the undergrowth, using the leaves for cover. At this time, diurnal prey would find shelter for the night, and the nocturnal would wake from their slumber. No matter what time of day it was, it seemed like there were creatures of all kinds always on the move.

This lively land was the land of Felantir. A land full of abloom meadows and temperate forests. The ruling race of Felantir belonged to the cats, who were more often than not nomadic. Although some created small groups, most of these cats hunted for themselves and their families. The only distinct organized society recognized by all were the four clans of the forest surrounding the four great oaks, though most of the cats decided not to bother them and stuck to their group.

One of these small groups deep within the trees was composed of a loud, flame-colored kit and a similar-colored adult tom. Together, they exchanged an exciting conversation from a den made of bracken and leaves.

"Mouse!"

"That's right. Now, how about this one?"

The adult tom pointed to a dead finch on the ground.

"Bird!"

"Excellent!"

"And if you combine these two, you get a flying mouse, called… a Mirb."

"There's no such thing."

"Yes, there is! I've seen it."

"Oh? And where did you see it?"

The kit dramatically pointed upward.

"In the sky!"

A brown-white tabby she-cat sat a couple of tail-lengths away, chuckling in amusement. She stood up to greet the tom.

"Jake, I think it's time we put little Rusty to bed, don't you think?"

Jake turned to the tabby.

"Alright. Come on, Rusty. Let's get you to bed."

"But I'm not tired."

"You'll be tired when we tuck you in."

Jake gave the small Rusty a push towards the nest. After the kit stumbled in, the she-cat stepped in and curled around him tightly. Rusty quickly fell asleep against the she-cat's rhythmic breathing.

Loud paw steps approached the den, and a pair of white paws and a brown head poked itself in.

"Jake, Nutmeg. We've brought prey."

Jake turned to the newcomer.

"Thank you, Yonder. I'll bring some for Nutmeg."

Jake licked Nutmeg's forehead before standing up and padding out of the den.

A large clearing opened up before Jake and Yonder. The last bits of the sun cast large shadows from the trees, and a small fresh-kill pile lay in the center while two other cats chatted at the edge of the clearing.

Yonder tapped Jake's back with his tail.

"So when do you think we can start moving again?" inquired Yonder.

"I don't know yet. As much as I'd like to go on another journey, Rusty is still a bit young to travel," Jake admitted.

"I see. We can't exactly leave Nutmeg with Rusty alone either. She's our only healer."

"We'll go back to our adventures in due time. Next time, it'll be with an eighth member."

Yonder raised a brow. "I assume that means you're going to make Rusty a member of our group too?"

Jake smirked.

"Why of course. He's got my blood in him after all. Curiosity is in his nature."

Yonder rolled his eyes.

"I don't know if that's good or bad."

"It's very good, thank you very much. Anyway, how's the rest of the group?"

"They're doing fine. Lash and Rasp are out on patrol, and Penny and Percy just swapped out."

"That's good to hear…"

Jake stopped padding and looked at the ground.

"I'm sure they've been feeling annoyed at being confined for so long. We're all so used to stopping and traveling on the go, we hardly ever stay in one place for too long. That's not even considering we've been here for two moons taking care of Rusty."

"Nonsense," Yonder reassured. "All kits need time to grow. Besides, Rusty is a part of our family now. A new edition is always special to the group, especially if it's a kit from one of us."

"…Thank you, Yonder."

Yonder nodded and watched Jake pick out a mouse and a thrush.

"Fthrushes. Fvhey're Nutmeg'sh fvafvorite," meowed Jake in a muffled voice.

"Better not leave her hanging then," responded Yonder.

Jake smiled and turned back to the den. He couldn't help but feel thankful to his group. Although they all came from different backgrounds, they all had one thing in common: to explore the land of Felantir and beyond. As a young cat, Jake held immeasurable curiosity about the unknown and desperately sought exploration. With the help of his current members, it had all come to fruition, but he knew that his years were not up yet and would only continue with his new son.

The rest of the evening was spent sharing tongues and eating. The sun quickly died out, and the moon rose high into the sky. Jake and Nutmeg were curled around Rusty, while the rest of the members slept comfortably around the den.

Suddenly, the bushes bristled and a sleek, black cat jumped out.

"Attack! There's an attack!"

Jake and the others woke up with a jolt. They immediately leaped to their paws.

"Lash, what happened? Where's Rasp?"

"We got ambushed by some cats. I don't know who they are, but Rasp is holding them off for now."

"Were they rogues?"

"We thought they were at first, but they're too coordinated. They worked together as a team. Rasp and I quickly got overwhelmed."

"Alright, I'll go. Yonder. Percy. Come with me. Penny, stick with Nutmeg and protect her, please."

They all nodded with enthusiasm. Jake, Yonder, Lash, and Percy quickly dashed out of the den to help Rasp.

Penny turned around to give Nutmeg a reassuring lick on the ear, who had stepped in front of Rusty defensively. Rusty had only just woken up to the commotion, groggily trying to open his eyes.

"Mama, what's… wrong?"

"Everything's okay, Rusty. Your dad just had to… take care of some stuff."

Although Rusty was just a kit, the worried look on his mother's face did none to ease him. He pressed closer to his mother for comfort.

A clash of different yowls echoed in the distance. The fierce battle cries sent chills down Rusty's spine, and he reflexively covered his ears.

A rustling at the edge of the clearing set the two she-cats on alert. Two toms with mangled, dirty pelts padded into the clearing, one significantly larger than the other. The two she-cats quickly formed a defensive line in front of Rusty.

"Well, if it isn't our lucky day. Just two she-cats and a kit! The boss said he'll give us extra fresh-kill if we bring kits in alive. What do you think?" rasped the bigger intruder.

The other shook his head. "You're hopeless. Do you always have to stuff yourself? Just try and capture the kit, will you?"

Nutmeg's blood ran cold when her eyes met with the cold stare of the smaller tom.

"Kill the others."

The two invaders stalked closer to the she-cats. All the cats growled at each other as they closed the distance. Eventually, the two sides leaped towards one another and clashed. A flurry of claws and teeth ensued as one side fought ferociously to subdue the she-cats, while the other fought desperately to protect the kit. Rusty could only stare with a frantic look on his face.

The she-cats slowly managed to push the toms back to the edge of the clearing. Although the steady advance gave slight relief to the she-cats, their despair only grew when a third cat padded into the clearing.

The third cat noticed Rusty and began to stalk closer, while the two other toms kept Nutmeg and Penny preoccupied. Rusty froze in fear as the bigger tom came ever closer. The tom had a large scar running down the left side of his face, and his crooked smile made Rusty want to cry. On instinct, Nutmeg screamed.

"Rusty, run!"

Snapping out of his fear-locked state, Rusty pelted for the trees in the other direction with the third cat right on his heels. The dense undergrowth hit Rusty hard as branches whipped his face.

"Come back here, you little worm!" the tom commanded.

Rusty felt the tom's heavy paw steps gaining on him quickly. However, the large bushes and tall branches allowed safe passage for little Rusty, while obscuring the path for the large tom. Each time the tom closed the distance on Rusty, more branches would block his path. Eventually, Rusty could no longer hear the grunts and howling from his pursuer, but he kept running regardless.

A root hidden under some leaves caught Rusty's foot, barreling him forward. The tree line broke to reveal a steep bank that dropped into a river. Rusty panicked as he felt himself free-falling before slamming into the cold water. The hard impact brought him to the brink of unconsciousness, but he was lucky enough to stay awake. He desperately tried to swim with his little arms, but the currents were too intense.

Mama, Papa, Rusty thought. Please… save me!

A large branch carried by the river bumped against him. Rusty scrambled over the wood with his tired paws, trying to find a foothold on the slippery surface. After he managed to get firmly on top, he collapsed from the intense aching of all the cuts, bruises, and running from earlier. Although he managed to get away from his attacker, Rusty was now at the mercy of the river, taking him into the unknown. Tired and alone, Rusty wept before falling into a deep sleep.

Later that night, they would manage to regroup, but the distressed wailing and crying of a mother would continue to echo into the daylight of the next day.

Bluestar woke up in her den as the morning sunlight peered through the strips of lichen draped over the entrance. A calm breeze brushed past the lichen, ventilating the cove. The air was getting colder every day, which Bluestar considered both a blessing and a curse. The leaf-fall season meant that the intense heat of Greenleaf and potential fires were over, but the threat of leaf-bare and the cold would bring new challenges. Regardless, Bluestar stretched her limbs out and decided to enjoy the morning freshness. The time to worry about leaf-bare should only happen before leaf-bare. No use griping about it now, she thought.

Once she limbered up, she padded outside and onto the Highrock, observing the early activities of her clan. Redtail, her trusted deputy, was arranging the patrols for the day. Lionheart, Runningwind, and Longtail were preparing to go out for a patrol around Sunningrocks. Tigerclaw and Darkstripe would patrol the Shadowclan border, and the rest would go out for either training or hunting. The clan was lively this morning, and Bluestar felt pride in her clan. The clan was at peace, for now.

But for how long will this peace last?

Riverclan activity had begun increasing again around Sunningrocks, and Crookedstar's promise to take back Sunningrocks from Thunderclan during the previous gathering had left Bluestar feeling uneasy. On top of that, tensions between Windclan and Shadowclan were rising, and Shadowclan's new leader, Brokenstar, was very ambitious. She had no idea what Tallstar would plan in response.

Shaking the worries from her head, Bluestar padded up to the Sunningrocks patrol. Perhaps a stroll through the woods would take her mind off matters.

As Bluestar approached the patrol, Lionheart dipped his head.

"Bluestar. Have you come to join us for the patrol?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not. We'd be happy for you to join us," meowed Lionheart respectively.

The patrol began their journey through the woods, and Bluestar allowed the sounds of the forest to soothe her. The shifting of the trees, birds chirping, and the soft crunching of leaves beneath her paws were feelings she could never experience anywhere else in the clans but in Thunderclan.

As the patrol broke past the tree line, Sunningrocks came into view. Carefully trailing the border and renewing the scent markers, the patrol kept their senses open for any Riverclan scent or sound. As they padded along the river, Bluestar suddenly spotted a patch of bright orange on top of some wood resting on the bank.

A fire?

At first, Bluestar was confused. However, as they padded closer, Bluestar's expression turned from confusion to surprise.

That's not a fire. That's a kit!

Quickly picking up her pace with the patrol right behind her, they came face-to-face with the small kit. The patrol was horrified to see various scratches and bruises all over the kit, while the kit's body broke out occasionally in short spasms. Bluestar prodded the kit and noticed that the kit was quivering in his wet, cold fur.

"The kit must've fallen into the river at some point," meowed Longtail.

"But the scratches! How did he get those?" questioned Lionheart.

Bluestar ignored the patrol's comments and started licking the young tom's fur in the opposite direction, hoping to warm him up enough. The gritty taste of the river nearly made Bluestar reel back, but she continued. Flashbacks to her little Mosskit from many moons ago flashed through her mind. The pain had already been unbearable then, and she didn't want to have another dead kit on her paws. Her licking and prodding became more harsh and frantic until, much to her relief, the young kit coughed up water, and the spastic motions stopped.

"Ma…. Ma…" meowed the kit with a pained expression.

"It's okay, young one," reassured Bluestar. She gently picked the kit up by the scruff and laid him down on a flat stone, where she curled up beside him. "Everything's alright now."

Shortly after, the kit fell into a deep sleep.

"Go fetch Spottedleaf for me," meowed Bluestar.

Bluestar's rare, motherly tone towards the kit had stunned the patrol for a few moments before Runningwind nodded and dashed into the forest.

"It's a blessing that he's a tough fighter," Lionheart chimed, grinning.

Bluestar looked at the sleeping kit curiously.

"Does he belong to one of the clans?" asked Lionheart.

"I could not smell any clan scent from him," meowed Bluestar curiously. "Perhaps he was the kit of a rogue who simply fell in by accident."

"Poor thing," meowed Lionheart.

"For now, Thunderclan will keep him and raise him until his parents come looking for him. If they don't show up within two moons, Thunderclan will adopt him," said Bluestar.

"Understood."

Bluestar looked back down at the small, fiery kit. His breathing had become more rhythmic and peaceful.

Should his parents not come to find him, he shall be named… Firekit. Firekit of Thunderclan.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading the prologue. I don't know what my upload schedule will look like, but I will attempt to update it within one to two weeks. I proofread this several times, but if there are still grammatical errors somewhere or storyline discrepancies, feel free to comment and tell me. Criticism is much appreciated.