The stillness of dawn and the cold early newleaf air, full of mist made the forest feel magical. Not a sound stirred, not a movement seen. The sun's rays were peaking out the horizon and into the canopy of leaves and branches, like a child's fingers running through the sand. The sky was a violet colour, the best sign day was near.
Suddenly, something stirred near. Two long, but small shadowy figures bounded near the thundering path of large monsters. They were warriors, the cats of the forests. A large white tom, snooping around the deep underbrush, had a coat seeming to have been made of snow, itself. His blue eyes were full of a mysterious suspicion. A smaller she-cat trotted up to him, with a coat that was splashed with all shades of brown. Her maroon eyes were full of kindness feeling, but any cat could see she was impatient and ready to go back to their clan's camp.
"One minute, Dapplecoat." the white one meowed as he pushed himself through the underbrush of the forest. The thorns of the budding rose bush had pricked him more than once, but still, he drove on, leaving small scarlet drops of blood staining his pure white coat. Only a small scratch, anyway. He'd been through worse. He had other things to worry about, the sound, he had heard it before. But the warrior could not quite put his paw on it. He followed the acrid scent of skunk mixed with the Thunderpath's own scent. Rushing monsters could be heard this close. He had to find what was making that crying sound.
"What now, Snowstorm?" The ThunderClan medicine cat groaned, "First you think you see RiverClan cats, but no scent could be sensed, now you think you hear something crying by Thunderpath?" Dapplecoat picked up her pace to keep up with him. Snowstorm suddenly stopped, looking as if he had found what he wanted. Almost bumping into the ignorant cat, Dapplecoat mewed in surprise and stared from about Snowstorm's white head. She saw it.
A strange smelling black kit sitting awkwardly on a large rock near the tunnels under Thunderpath. A hopeful look glowed in the background of its emerald eyes, but still desperate to get love and attention from its mother. Small mews escaped from its mouth, making it seem even more desperate. The monsters rushing on the long, black path startled it. You could see their round black paws rolling along from here. Both cats knew it would die if left alone.
"We can't leave it here," Snowstorm said quietly. As he moved to pick up the stray kit, Dapplecoat stopped him.
"We don't even know who owns it. It could be a rouge, or an abandoned kittypet, or worse, an enemy clan's." she argued. Brightstar, the leader of the clan, would have their tails if any major troubles came from this kit. They had enough mouths to feed anyway, even if the plump mice and birds would be back soon from their hibernation during the cold season of leafbare.
Snowstorm sighed, "It's not even a month old yet. No self respecting queen would leave their kit alone so young unless they didn't want it. And there's no other smell I scent other than skunk on it. Why should ThunderClan have no mercy when this poor kit is half starved?" Without waiting for a reply, Snowstorm picked up the kit by the scruff of the neck and bounded back to the ThunderClan camp. Dapplecoat followed, still brimming with doubts.
Suddenly, everything went black. The leafless trees that were once there were enveloped by the greedy hands of darkness. Scattered stars sparkled in the gloomy sight, as the silver moon hung in the middle.
In the mess of the twinkling stars, a female voice rang out, Peace rages within war when StarClan's four unite. The voice was gentle and full of knowing, like a mother talking to her very young kit. As the voice receded into the spaces of starlight, the speaker came into view. A delicate midnight coloured she-cat. She was sat down, looking as if she was standing on nothing, her tail wrapped around her front paws. Her emerald eyes eclipsed the crescent moon...