It was the darkest night in leafbare that any cat could recall, although it certainly wasn't the coldest. The eye of Silverpelt was closed, leaving little moonlight, and thick, dark clouds covered her starry pelt, shielding the gleaming orbs away from the eyes of the living.
On the ground below the heavens lay a warbling river, its currents rushing yet gentle, guided by the slight breeze that permeated the air. On one side of this river lay an expansive wetland that gave way to open, rolling grasslands, dotted with willows, alders, and birchs. On the other side lay a dense forest, the undergrowth forming a thick, protective barrier around the land. The branches seemed to stretch high enough to scrap the sky itself, the leaves swaying gently in the wind.
On the wide, sandy shore of the forest lay a pile of silver boulders of varying shapes and sizes. There were many cracks and crevices in the rocks that no doubt sheltered prey, and thin stalks of dill plants poked out from the dips in the stones, only just beginning to bloom from the coming warmth of spring.
A few silent minutes passed before several muscular yet lean feline figures emerged from the tight-knit bushes, their bellies low to the ground as they prowled towards the boulders. With claws unsheathed and their pawsteps careful and measured, they clambered on top of the stones, managing to get an excellent view of the shore.
Already, large and sleek furred cats were surrounding the rocks, outnumbering the cats from the forest. At the front of the crowd was a dark cinnamon tom, his ticked tabby stripes only serving to make his squared face all the more intimidating.
A calico tom emerged from the forest cats, leaping down from the rocks to face the cinnamon tom.
"Oakheart." The smaller tom said, struggling to keep a growl from slipping into his polite tone.
"Redtail." Oakheart nodded with a neutral tone. There was an aloof air to his composure, almost a tad haughty.
Redtail's muzzle crinkled as he straightened up, trying to make himself appear tall despite being much smaller than Oakheart. "I do believe Bluestar has warned your warriors time and time again that the sunningrocks is ours. It's been on our shore for generations now, after all." He stated all of this calmly as if it was a fact of life, his bushy ginger tail swishing from behind him.
Oakheart smirked in response, puffing his pale chest out in pride. "Really now?" He drawled, tilting his head in coy smugness, "Because I remember that these rocks were those of our ancestors, and that they warmed their fur and hunted on them long before you ThunderClanners ever took them away."
Oakheart chuckled, patting Redtail on the head as if he was a mere kitten.
"Now, chap, is this really worth the effort? I've been hearing rumors of you losing several warriors and kits over the winter, after all!". He gasped in mock surprise, pouting a lower lip and leaning closer to the ThunderClan deputy so that their noses nearly touched. "Is it that ThunderClan is afraid to swallow their pride and admit these rocks," He gestured a paw to the stones before his patrol for emphasis, "Belong to us?"
Redtail's pale amber eyes narrowed, snorting in disdain. He flicked an ear backwards towards his hidden comrades.
"We'll see who it belongs to tonight, Oakheart. ThunderClan, attack!"
Instantly, the ThunderClan warriors rained down from the stones and onto the shocked RiverClanners. Hisses, yowls, and battle cries arose from the panicked chaos. Claws slashing through flesh and teeth bite and ripped through fur, leaving a colorful array of fur and blood to splatter on the rocks.
In the midst of the frenzied battle, a large dark brown tabby tom was chasing after Oakheart, a snarl twisting his features. Oakheart dashed away, only to whirl around with a hiss, arching his bristling back.
This display barely affected the tabby tom in the slightest, instead striking the RiverClan deputy on the head and sending him flying like a piece of prey to the edges of the lump of fighting felines.
Oakheart struggled to his paws, only to be bowled over by the tabby and pinned beneath his large paws. The sleek cinnamon tom squirmed, only to feel the tom's claws dig into his shoulders. Oakheart sent the much larger tom a baleful glare, his green eyes sparking with anger. The dark brown tabby tom responded in kind, his own bright amber eyes narrowing into furious slits.
"Oakheart!" He snapped his ears pinned back and face warped into a snarl, "How dare you hunt in our territory! The Sunningrocks belongs to ThunderClan!"
Oakheart gave a hearty laugh at this, sneering back up at the tom, "After tonight, Tigerclaw, this land will be RiverClan's once more!"
The large tabby showed his teeth, a growl emerging from his throat. He slammed his paw into the tom's throat, harsh enough to knock the wind out of him but gentle enough to not crush his windpipe.
Oakheart heaved and gasped for air, looking up at the ThunderClan warrior with poorly hidden fear and hate. The dark brown tabby tom sneered, amber eyes alight with disdain.
"What's wrong? Are you RiverClanners too weak to fight us?" He jeered.
Oakheart snarled, finally gaining his breath back. He tilted his head backwards and yowled loudly, an edge of desperation to his voice.
Tigerclaw furrowed his brows at the action, only for his head to snap up upon hearing several more battle cries enter the symphony of voices.
Sure enough, several more RiverClan warriors were launching themselves into the battle, their fur still sopping wet from swimming across the river. Tigerclaw's eyes briefly widened in surprise, but he quickly growled and swung his head to face the RiverClan deputy and give him a piece of his mind.
Only… Oakheart was nowhere to be seen. Tigerclaw whipped his head around in confusion, only to feel a hefty blow strike the back of his head.
The tabby tom yowled in shock, whirling around to face the treacherous tom. The cinnamon tom was smirking as he crouched down, preparing to leap onto the large tabby before him.
Tigerclaw hissed with rage and smacked the other tom on the head, claws digging into the fur on the top of his head. Blood splattered on the stones as Oakheart fell, his head colliding sharply with the cold rocks.
Tigerclaw sniffed in disdain before throwing himself back into the heat of battle.
He dashed into the thick of the fight, scanning the battleground with calculated calm in search of a clanmate who needed aid in fighting off the RiverClan scum.
"Help! Help m-" A molly's yowl rose in the air, gaining the attention of the large dark brown tabby. He whipped his massive head around, eyes widening in shock upon seeing a small brown molly being pinned down by a silver tom three times her size. His massive, webbed paw was placed on her windpipe, hooked claws sitting dangerously close to the molly's windpipe.
Tigerclaw growled before launching himself at the tom. The cat barely had time to look up before being bowled over by the large tabby. The tabby tom slammed his opponent's head into the ground, strong enough to stun the cat. While he had time, he whirled around to face Mousefur, who was struggling to her paws.
Her shoulder was badly wounded, a deep, scoring scratch the oozed red. Her left ear was worse for the wear, and pin pricks of claw marks were right where her windpipe would be. The molly was covered in countless bites and scratches as well.
He didn't take long to observe his clanmate though, and simply called out to her, "Mousefur, go back to camp! You're too injured to fight."
Mousefur opened her mouth to speak, presumably to argue back, but upon seeing all of her wounds, she closed her jaw with a metallic click and simply nodded, dashing off into the bushes.
Tigerclaw watched the small molly go, but suddenly felt the stinging pain of teeth digging into his left foreleg. Tigerclaw cried out in surprise, trying to jerk the tom off of his front leg, but to not avail. The tom's jaw clenched tightly as the massive warrior tried to shake him off.
Tigerclaw hissed in frustration and anger and, with a mighty yowl, clamped his teeth down onto the scruff of the silver RiverClan warrior's neck, wrenching him off by force.
The silver tom hissed in shock as his shoulder collided with the stone, but Tigerclaw descended upon him like a ravenous wolf to an injured deer, clawing his cheek and side with quick, heavy hitting blows. The tom yowled in agony and fled, dashing to the shoreline and diving into the water like an Otter. Tigerclaw sneered as he left, only for a familiar voice to call for his attention.
"Tigerclaw!" Redtail yowed, running up to the large warrior, "This battle's hopeless! We're outnumbered, and most of our warriors are severely injured!"
Tigerclaw's nicked ears slicked back against his head, his lips drawing into a snarl.
"No, Redtail! ThunderClan are not sniveling cowards!" He hissed, eyes narrowing into angry amber slits, "If we give up now, these rocks will belong to those fishfaces-"
"Tigerclaw!" The small calico tom snarled, pressing muzzle into Tigerclaw's, "Listen to me, you battle hungry idiot! Most of our warriors are injured, and the RiverClan cats are ganging up on those who haven't fled!"
He jerked a dainty paw in the direction of his warriors. Lo and behold, while several ThunderClan cats remained, they were surrounded by two, three, even four spitting and hissing RiverClan warriors. Most of the cats were coated in scratch and bites, their blood dripping down onto the rocks.
Tigerclaw's muzzle drew into a furious snarl, the bridge of his nose wrinkling.
"But-"
Redtail stamped his left forepaw into the ground, eyes narrowing. "If you want to die in a pointless battle for these rocks, then be my guest! I'm getting my warriors out of here!" The small calico tom snapped, his bushy ginger tail lashing in anger.
Before the large tabby tom was even given the opportunity to argue, Redtail clambered on a tall rock that overlooked the battleground of squirming, fighting cats.
"Retreat, ThunderClan, retreat!" He yowled into the cold night air, his tail hung low in shame. The ThunderClan cats drew their heads up, eyes wide in shock and horror, but none of them dared argue with their deputy, especially when they were so obviously beaten.
The fluffy forest cats struggled away from their opponents, fleeing into the dense woodland brush. A few RiverClan cats gave a half-hearted chase, although most of them understood that they had won this battle, haughty, prideful smirks dawning on their faces.
Redtail took off after them when most of the cats were in the safety of the bushes, but just as Tigerclaw was about to leap over a fallen, mossy log, he briefly lingered to cast a furious glance at the battlefield.
The RiverClan cats were cheering, yowling their victory into the still night air. Oakheart smiled and congratulated his warriors, tail high in the air. But once the sleek tom caught sight of the large ThunderClan tabby, he smirked, winking in Tigerclaw's direction.
The massive dark brown tabby's amber eyes narrowed, snorting in disdain for the enemy. But he chose not to stay behind much longer, making the jump and chasing after the fresh scents of his clanmates.
Later that night, the moon was just beginning to dip down into the horizon, the first milky light of the coming dawn touching the darkened sky.
In the middle of ThunderClan's forest lay a shallow, rocky gorge, one that the forest cats called home. An opening through the thick thorn bush barrier led to small, jutting cliffs that acted as a stairway to the camp floor. All around lay tightly woven bushes, burrows, and caves within the rocky walls of the gorge, where soft snoring and mumbles of sleeping felines could be heard.
On the steepest cliff in the camp that overlooked the entire gorge sat a blue-gray molly, her silvered muzzle pointed towards the sky. Her pale blue eyes were narrowed in concentration, searching for something in the fading night sky.
She sighed, lowered her head in exasperation. Her claws exposed themselves slightly, catching the increasing light of the coming dawn.
'Of all times for StarClan to be silent, why would they choose now?' She grumbled internally, a thick layer of bitterness and betrayal clinging to the train of thought.
"Bluestar?" A soft voice called from a few pawsteps behind her. The old molly's ear swiveled backwards. She lifted her head, eyes meeting with the small, petite calico molly before her.
"Spottedleaf." She greeted stiffly, "How is Mousefur?"
Spottedleaf shrugged as she padded forwards, sitting down next to the regal blue gray molly. "Oh, she'll be fine. She had many wounds, but they were fairly shallow. Well, except the one on her shoulder." Spottedleaf explained, "If only she doesn't stran herself too hard with hunting or patroling, she'll be able to continue her warrior duties."
"And the others?"
"As long as they also take it easy, they'll recover as well."
The small calico then chuckled, and air of humor entering her tone, pale amber eyes alight with humor. "Although, you know how warriors are. Always trying to prove just how tough they are while disobeying the poor druid's orders."
She snickered, only to trail off upon seeing that Bluesar's gaze was transfixed on the night sky. She coughed awkwardly.
"Is… is that why you're still awake?" She hesitantly asked, "You know that if you continue this, you'll die of worry, right?"
Bluestar's grim face broke into a small smile as her narrow face turned to look at her druid. "I'm the leader of this clan, Spottedleaf. It's my job to worry."
Her calico companion's face brightened, sitting straight in response. She joked, "Yes, well, a cat your age shouldn't have so many gray hairs! Spring's coming now, and with it, prey, kits, and herbs. Plus, Graykit's going to become an apprentice in a couple days.". Her whiskers twitched mischievously as she meowed cheekily, "What color was your muzzle before winter began again?"
At the mention of past winter, however, Bluestar's amusement fell, her eyes becoming distant and somber. Spottedleaf's fluffy black and ginger tail slapped over her mouth, eyes wide in shock.
They sat in silence for a minute or two, both staring at the increasingly light sky.
"Spottedleaf," The ThunderClan leader meowed, "Our clan needs more warriors. After all…". The old molly lowered her head in grief, "We've lost so much to the famine and greencough.". Her eyes refused, turning her head to the young druid. "Has StarClan sent you any sort of signs?"
The young cat's head hung in shame. "I'm afraid not.". She sighed heavily, her dappled shoulders drooping and ears slicking against her head, "... Featherwhisker would have found something by now, I'm sure."
The blue gray molly blinked, eyes softening as regret for bringing the topic up made her chest feel tight. Her tail draped itself over the much younger molly's shoulder in comfort. Poor kit was grieving for her mentor. After all, he had only died two moons ago, leaving her as the sole druid of a clan that was dropping like flies.
'At the very least, it's finally spring…'
They fell silent for a stretch of time, with Spottedleaf staring into the distance and her older leader casting worried glances in her much younger clanmate's direction.
The calcio's gaze briefly met the night sky, only for her eyes to widen. A gasp tore itself from her throat, her gorgeous pelt bristling like a pinecone. Her legs shook, as if they were unable to support her weight.
Bluestar's brow furrowed as she caught on. An omen, she would assume. She patiently waited for the druid to relay the sign, waiting for a minute or so until the small druid finally jerked herself from her trance.
Spottedleaf's struggled to catch her breath, eyes wide. She shivered. Her gaze slowly met Bluestar's.
"I-it was a prophecy…" She straightened, looking far more serious than usual.
Her leader nodded. "Tell me about it."
The calico pursed her lips, seeming to struggle to process whatever vision she saw. "I-I was in the forest. There was darkness on all sides, and I could hear enemies all around us. Then…". She paused, shaking her head as a breathy laugh escaped her. "It was so strange, but a fiery tom emerged from the cats, and chased away all the darkness. But it didn't burn down the forest. It seemed like it was protecting it."
Spottedleaf's tail flicked. "And then, I heard the words 'Fire alone will save our clan'..."
The molly trailed off, still looking amazed, but Bluestar's ears had slicked back against her head in concern.
"Fire?" She echoed incredulously, "Fire destroys, not protects."
Spottedleaf simply shrugged in response. "I don't know why, but this is what StarClan has chosen to share with me."
The regal leader held her druid's gaze, but there seemed to be no shred of deceit in them. She sighed, turning her gaze back up to the sky.
"Well, then I suppose it's so. Fire alone will save our clan…"