Prologue...
(I do not own Warriors, StarClan, or any basic concepts of Warriors. I do own the charachters in this story and the plot of this story.)
Rain fell steadily, hitting the earth with a forcing, wet pressure. The brush and trees hung limp with heavy water, weighing their thin branches down, brushing the earth's soggy floor.
A set of shimmering eyes shone through the rainy darkness. The eyes belonged to a large black tom, muscular and maniacal in appearance. His eyes narrowed suddenly and he pushed his huge figure into the moonlight, a small package clamped firmly in his jaws.
He put the soaked bundle down, opening his jaws to take in the smells around him. The scent of RainClan flooded his nose, the foul smell making his soaked fur stand on end. He must be close to their camp by now.
He picked up the bundle again, the package clearly visibly in the dim moonlight. It was a small she-cat, aging at almost 6 moons, nearly apprentice age. Her blue gray pelt was plastered to her skin, the rain soaking her through her pelt. She remained motionless besides a few shivers due to the damp cold, letting the larger cat have his way with her. She was to weak to resist or speak otherwise.
The large tom picked up the pace, the stars of Silverpelt hiding away, not wanting to guide the large warrior through the dark and misted forest. But the tom took no notice of the uncooperative starlight; he had no knowledge of StarClan and their impressive teachings. He knew not of the warrior code or of a Clan leader's nine lives. And what seemed even more unbelievable was that he had no knowledge of a cat's connection with their warrior ancestors.
Soon, the big tom's pace slowed again. He approached the base of a small hill; reaching upwards was RainClan's camp. The pouring rain had hidden their scents from the sleeping Clan; they remained unnoticed as they stood looking up the slope.
The rain had not only hidden them, but it had hidden the entrance to the camp. The slope was impossible to climb; the usual thick dirt had lost any previous footholds and was slick with mud. The tom let out an angered snort, his tail flaring about in aggravation. He put the small she-cat down roughly, bringing his muzzle close to her ear. "Don't move Crimson." He spat, pulling his head away quickly and looking down upon the blue grey cat, waiting for an answer.
"Yes, Skull," came the meek returning mew.
Crimson sat in agony, the rain pounding down upon her sodden fur. She watched as Skull, Bane's second command cat, tried to find a suitable path up the slippery, muddied slope, his eyes gleaming with frustration.
Crimson looked slowly up into the raining sky, the droplets harsh on her face. Through the billowing gray clouds and the pouring rain, she managed to see the stars, hundreds of tiny orbs of light flickering about in the sky. They seemed all to shine down upon her. She began tom smile, thanking them for their guidance, but soon Skull had gripped her again, thrusting her roughly from her position and into the mud.
"You will stand here." Skull began, smirking as Crimson shook the oozing mud from her fur. "This is under our leader's strict order. You will know when you are to return. You will be returned home then, and only then." The rules droned on, Skull spoke as if he had done this a thousand times.
"Now go." He ordered, eyes flashing as he gave Crimson another shove into the mud. He smirked again; those were his final words that he said to her before she was forced to climb the treacherous slope. She had left behind this old Clan and was to begin her new life; a warrior in the rain...