Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books


Chapter 18: Attack

Again, she dreamed of StarClan. This time, though, they didn't greet her.

Her old General, Splitfang, wove through the crowd, pausing at the base of one of the towering oaks. He dug into the soft earth for several long moments. She was dieing to ask what he was doing, but already knew better than to question StarClan. At last he returned, carrying an oak seed in his jaws.
"With this seed, you will plant not only new life for this tree, but for our people." He placed it at her paws and she awoke with a start.
(a/n- I know I never said who 'she' is)

Fernpelt jerked awake. Unbeknownst to her, two other medicine cats did too. What a dream, she thought, General Fire-eyes giving me a, a magic- she stopped suddenly. At her paws lay a small oak seed.
Moren padded out of camp, as if in a trance, a small seed clutched in her jaws. She didn't know why, but General Moonflower wanted her to, what had she said, 'plant not only the new life of a tree, but of the Clans.'

She closed her eyes and let her paws guide her. Somehow, she didn't once loose her footing or even step in water or mud. For a long time she traveled, then suddenly, her paws stopped. She opened her eyes.

Before her, Bristle and Fernpelt stood, staring at the looming rock towering above them. This was where the leaders had been meeting.

Suddenly, the scent of herbs, spices, and wind far more free than theirs would ever be circled the three cats, twining into their noses like a vine on a plant. A ghostly but familiar whisper sounded through the night breeze: "I am here."

"Whitefoot," Bristle gasped. Moren's heart pounded in her chest. A silvery-gray cat with white paws appeared on the fourth side of the stone. She shimmered in the moonlight, and the wind seemed to blur her fur.

Without taking her eyes of her friends, she carefully deposited her seed on the ground, dug a hole, and nodded to them. Moren hurried to do as her friend bid.

At last, when all had small holes before them, each cat placed her seed inside, and carefully covered them up. The next part, they somehow knew. Unsheathing one claw, they cut a shallow gash on their paws and let the blood drip onto the freshly churned earth.

Thunderfoot padded through the trees, headed for the Great Rock. Bristle seemed exceptionally tired today, and she had somehow cut her paw, so he'd decided to leave her at camp.

He topped a rise and gasped. The Great Rock was still there, but it was surrounded by four towering oaks. How could something that had not been there yesterday, be there so large today? It was impossible. And yet, isn't a band of cats and wolves impossible? Isn't traveling through mountains and valleys and cities and only loosing a few cats impossible? Isn't StarClan impossible? He thought.
He purred. This was where Bristle had been last night.

Windheart sighed. It had been five days since the messengers had gone out, five days since the appearance of the trees, which had slowed, now, in their growing process. No sign of any cat. She shouldn't have expected any. It was a long journey. She knew.

But cats that were coming would not have kits or elders to hold them back, like the Clans, or, like Sally Bones, have to hide in shadow and zigzag through the brush in fear that a wolf was on there tails.

Suddenly, there was a yowl from over head. She whipped around. Strung out across the ridge were the Alley cats, they circled the entire valley and stretched far back.

The cat in the lead yowled again, and they poured down, into Four Trees.

Windheart was shocked. A lot of these cats didn't even smell like Streetrats. Sally Bones must have been respected all around. There were twice as many cats here as there were in all the Clans put together!

Suddenly, the messenger padded forward. "It was hard, dodging wolves and Screa- no, Dogheart's cats. That's why so few came. And the entire population couldn't empty out. It would make them suspicious."

Windheart blinked, and Thunderfoot mewed, "But there are so many cats! Surely we don't need more?"

The messenger shook her head. "This isn't half of Dogheart's forces. And the Mountain Clan hasn't that many cats to spare. It all depends on the Canyon Cats."

Riverstripe nodded, then asked, "You keep saying 'Dogheart'. Isn't Screave in charge?"

Again, the messenger shook his head. "Screave was killed. Apparently, one of his cats did it and Dogheart avenged his death, but it's obvious it was Dogheart. It wouldn't take much to kill his leader, never mind a soldier. We are lucky. They were going to leave that dawn, but the cats were struck with sickness, thanks to some alley cats who planted bad meat. They had to wait until it had passed."

Windheart shook her head. How could such cruel cats have so many willing to serve them? All she could do was pray to StarClan that the Canyon Cats came to their aid.

Riverstripe sighed as she watched the alley cats tramp through Four Trees. The Clans had been so anxious about getting them there, they hadn't made any preparations for when they arrived. Now, the next day, the grass at Four Trees was flat and dusty where they had sheltered for the night.

It was wrong to say they weren't enjoying themselves, though. After a lifetime cooped up in a city, eating only what they could find, she knew it must be fun to feel free and eat fresh-kill that was flavored with the forest, wind, or water, rather than two-leg trash.

Suddenly, a cry rang through the cats, "The ridge!"

Riverstripe looked up. Above them towered the huge Mountain cats, looking out of place with their thick, sturdy bodies, and hot in the sun with their pelts. Even so, Riverstripe had never been so glad to see another cat.

Thunderfoot watched a cat run up to Windheart, speaking swiftly and breathlessly. He padded over.

"What's the matter?" he mewed.

Windheart looked at him, eyes wide. "The wolves will be here by tomorrow!"

Thunderfoot felt his heart stop in his chest. It couldn't be! The Canyon cat weren't here yet!

He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Get all the cats into hiding, and bring your warriors too. When the wolves come, we should all be ready. They can't leave the shelter of the trees. We'll take them by surprise."

Riverstripe padded foward. "Post sentries, quiet ones, to watch for them. That way we can be prepared."

Sheba said suddenly from behind them, "Remember to tell them that if they can get the wolves off their paws, they're easy prey."

Windheart's heart pounded in her ears, and she couldn't help but feel that the wolves would be able to hear it from a mile away. Glancing back at her warriors, she saw faces full of trust and eyes full of confidence in their leader. She took a deep breath. She had to be strong for them, if nothing else.

Turning, she saw a tabby slip into the trees where Thunderfoot was hidden. The sentry. They would be here in minutes. Silver, who had insisted on coming, mewed softly, "Take a deep breath Windheart. You'll do us no good if you pass out." Windheart tried to force a purr, but all that came out was a dry hiccup.

Suddenly, she heard a bark. Whipping her head around, she saw, where the Mountain cats had stood just a day before, a seemingly endless line of wolves and cats. They reminded her of her first glimpse of the moor, stretching as far as she could see.

They padded into the clearing, terribly loud, with their noses to the wind. They were passing under the ridge Riverstripe hid in. Windheart felt her breath catch in her throat as her sister leapt out of the trees, screeching, "Attack!"

a/n- SHORT! I know, and a little rushed, but I kind of want to get to the next part, which I've been looking foward to writing since I began this story, when everything comes together. And I kind of want to finish to story, so I can work on my other one. Please review. It made me sad, the last few chapters, when I got so few reviews. And sad authors don't update often... Hmm. This note is almost as long as the chapter...