Prologue
StarClan's Hunting Grounds
Greenleaf's warmth spread over the familiar landscape. The way the forest was before the Twolegs took over and changed it forever. This was how she remembered the forest. From the ravine that lead into ThunderClan camp to Sunningrocks, where countless moons of battles raged between ThunderClan and RiverClan. The wide open moors, where gorse and heather was the only cover for cats among the scraggly grass for WindClan, and the boggy pine tree marshes of ShadowClan territory. All had remained, even the expansion of the Twoleg Place that stole SkyClan's territory did not exist here.
None would have known or guessed it, but StarClan's hunting grounds had never changed since the very dawn the Clans were born. However, Shadepelt knew it existed. She watched over RiverClan territory with Loudbelly. All of the elders who had stayed behind watched over their respected territories, all except the ThunderClan elders. They still stayed in the familiar skies that they now walked, never once abandoning it after their deaths. Once they were forgotten, but new cats were in their midst. Those who died in the birth of the new Clan and those who perished due to old ways.
Such as the tawny tom that stood before the dark gray she-cat, his gaze dark with guilt. A guilt of a leader who had done too little to save his Clan and bring it the honor the cats who lived within it deserved. The night-black she-cat beside him, her yellow eyes glittering with unspoken anger. Shadepelt knew why they have come to her. All who died came to her, to learn of their place in StarClan. Learn of the darkest secrets and the very prophecies that came from long ago to be fulfilled.
"Why," the black she-cat hissed angrily, "Why have none of us even heard of this prophecy?"
The ancient StarClan cat stared back as though in thought. Tilting her head, she finally meowed. "Fear has already taken hold. Faith does not exist in fear until we gave gifts to a cat's kit."
"Why did we even make a Clan if it was doomed to fail?" The black cat snarled.
Soft paw-steps brushed the grass as the familiar dark brown tom padded into view. "Nightstar, calm yourself. It was our mistake to think BloodClan-cats could even make a honorable Clan."
The tawny tom bristled, curling his lip. "How dare you! Poppyclaw lead me onto this path! His dreams came from you two who demanded us to make a Clan. And for what? So you wouldn't fade?"
Nightstar's yellow gaze blazed with fury. "How selfish! You don't share a prophecy that could tear our pitiful Clan asunder and we were only made for you lot?"
Shadepelt lashed her tail. "The prophecy that you wail about is only for the Lake Clans. For the Forest Clan it is useless. Faith hasn't taken a deep enough root. We can't help you along like doting Twolegs do to kittypets! Like mothers and fathers we must allow you to make your own mistakes, but clearly, I was wrong to even think that BloodClan-cats could be of any use."
"Then why is Finch guiding that excuse of a medicine cat to protect a kit?" The tom snapped, "Tell us the truth. What are you really planning?"
The dark gray she-cat looked to the dark brown tom before the two bowed their heads stiffly. "I suppose this is a mistake we must accept and learn from." Shadepelt meowed softly.
"What mistake?"
"Bushstar," the dark brown tom meowed, "You brought this upon BushClan just as much as we have brought down the divide of faith and loyalty."
"He was chosen by Cedar to be his mate, he rejected her, did he not?" Nightstar pointed out sourly.
"No," Shadepelt murmured, her brown eyes dark. "He gave her kits. Kits who even if they were her first litter, were not his first."
"Stop it!" Bushstar snapped, lashing his bushy tail. "Nightstar doesn't have to know."
"Who was the first?" The former BushClan leader looked to the founding leader.
The reddish-brown tom was silent, looking away. "No one."
Shadepelt followed his gaze to the familiar yellow eyes that pierced from the shadows. The dark ginger she-cat that walked among the shadows on their land. The one she guided who carried the secret to her grave. Anger smoldered inside those eyes, like embers to the StarClan cat. In an instant, the eyes vanished with the rustle of foliage.
"Bushstar, what did you do?" the night-black she-cat asked, her mew growing soft and somber.
The tom stood still, twitching his whiskers with uncertainty. His tail tip flicking to and fro as he seemed lost in time or perhaps even thought. Nonetheless, Shadepelt stepped forward, earning their attention. It was time to make a decision. It was her selfish idea to create BushClan, her desire to not be forgotten by the living-cats. Her resolve strengthened. Perhaps she was selfish back then, but now she had to fix the wrongs she created.
"Nightstar, Bushstar, we will send a prophecy. We must create one to give to BushClan and FearClan. We have little time to spare." the former RiverClan elder meowed.
Bushstar blinked slowly, nodding. "I have one."
"What is it?" Nightstar demanded.
The founding leader drew himself up to his full height, authority taking over his mew as he squared his shoulders. "Fear and blood will rise. So will the noble, wise, and fearless."
"What is that even supposed to mean?" the former BushClan leader grumbled.
"No, it's perfect. It sounds like a prophecy passed down for seasons upon seasons." Loudbelly nodded. "We can't loose hope now. There is still a chance we can turn this around."
Shadepelt nodded her agreement. "It's worth a try. After all, not all she-cats can be excellent mothers."
"That may be so, but that still raises questions," Nightstar began again, this time much calmer. "Why did BushClan have to rise? And why a kit of a mock-Clan?"
The two StarClan warriors glanced to one another in a knowing gaze. Three are to save the Lake Clans, or so it has been foretold. Shadepelt thought dully. They are far away and I still worry if that prophecy ever came true at all. Even if it did, how could the Lake Clans ever recover? What would even become of SkyClan for being so isolated from the rest? Worry filled her from deep within as she looked to her paws.
The three haven't formally met, their chosen star is still a kit, and worst of all leafbare was taking hold of the land. No matter how old a kit was, greencough could kill them without proper care. In all that she had seen, there was nothing they could do. They just had to hope that the kit would survive or else Shadepelt would have to answer the question of before: What did Bushstar do?
Twoleg Place
The cold winds picked up, rattling the broken clear-ice square nosily. A dark tortoiseshell slipped through the shadows, stepping carefully in the abandoned Twoleg den, the strange soft-grass quieting her steps, bright yellow eyes gleaming in the half-light of dawn. Her hairless tail twitching before she pounced, landing squarely on a black-colored spider. She batted at it carefully, squishing it into the soft-grass with harsh thumps. It was trying to run, but it was confused and slower now.
With one more flash of a dark ginger paw, she stabbed into it with a sharp claw. It's many legs writhing wildly, tiny sharp fangs glinting in the weak-sunlight. She flicked her paw and sent it tumbling away from her. With great agility, she bounded after it and batted at it some more, making sure it was too weak to be a threat anymore. Satisfied, she crunched down on it's fat body, the juices making her cringe. Real fresh-kill would be far more appetizing to her.
Chewing on the strange texture of a gooey and crunchy meal, she swallowed, feeling it's legs getting caught in her throat as she retched. She was still hungry as she tried to dislodge it's many legs from clinging onto the inside of her throat. Coughing, she padded on, looking for a familiar pelt or even a familiar face. A flash of dark gray fur caught her attention, warmth spread through her.
"Stone, very nice to see you again." she mewed happily, stopping as the dark gray tom padded into view.
"Hey Rat, is there any good prey in the den?" His dark green eyes glancing past her eagerly.
She looked over the tom, taking note that she could see each one of his ribs. They needed food and fast. Shaking her head, she replied, "I only found a spider, it was one of those fat black ones so I was careful. It was all I could find though, if you want I can cough up a leg for you."
Stone grimaced. "Ew, no thanks! I'm not that hungry."
The dark tortoiseshell shrugged. "If you say so. Did you have any luck in the over grown garden?"
"Not even a finch was in there. Best to head to the Giant Garden and see if we can catch a fat pigeon." He gently headbutted Rat, earning an affectionate purr.
"Well, it can't be any worse there. Who knows, maybe the others are there and they have prey to share." she meowed optimistically.
"Let's check it out, maybe if we're lucky some Twoleg left something we can eat!"
"Really, you're going to eat food that a Twoleg was eating?"
Stone looked ahead mischievously. "Well, if you don't want any than more for me! I just want to have something in my stomach."
"Hey!" Rat whined, feigning jealousy, "That's not fair, Twoleg food is more filling than a stupid scrawny spider."
"You told me it was fat." the dark gray tom teased lightly, before rolling his eyes dramatically, "Oh, alright. I suppose I could spare you a bite. I mean, you did offer me a leg and I declined."
Rat blinked warmly, "Thank you, now let's hurry! At sun-high there can be too many Twolegs around to travel."
The dark gray tom looked to the sky. "I suppose we should, first snow can't be that far away now." With a flick of his tail, he bounded off ahead, Rat following suit.
The flat slab of stone beneath their paws was ice-cold to the touch. However, their pads were rough and hard from their lives spent on the thunderpath all their lives. Her yellow eyes squinting as she checked the position of the sun. Sun-high was approaching swiftly. Leafbare always had longer nights and shorter days, leaving them to struggle in the harsh environment.
Twitching her whiskers, she kept padding along, maybe if she focused she could pick up a scent-trail of a rat. She parted her jaws to taste the air carefully. Checking for any danger or prey, things they no longer had access to. However, Stone slowed to a stop, sniffing the air eagerly.
"What's wrong?" Rat asked before the scent struck her. The scent of kittypet slop, it was a heavy scent and made her mouth water. "The Slop Giver must be nearby!"
Stone nodded, and followed the tantalizing scent. "Let's hurry! The other fragments might be there!"
The Slop Giver was a kind woman who left strange shaped pellets of hard kittypet food and strange circular shaped slop that was moist and soft like prey-meat. She was looking forward to an actual meal. Her thin tail raised as they turned the corner and spotted them. Around the Twoleg's long legs was the rest of their group.
"Dog Chaser, is The Council here?" Stone called, padding with his tail tip curled as he mewed sweetly to the female Twoleg. "And what kind of offerings did you bring us?"
Rat rolled her eyes as she padded closer to the small dark brown tom who answered. "They are eating comfortably, this Slop Giver is working alone and making sure every cat has enough."
"How nice. We should visit here more often." she mewed, looking up at the unfamiliar hairless face of the Twoleg. They were smiling and making odd mewling noises like kits did as they set down strange white flat discs that had slop and pellets on it.
In mere seconds a wiry bright ginger she-cat pounced on it with a hiss. "Mine!"
The brown tabby tom winced, backing up as the starving she-cat ate as quickly as she could. Her pale tongue flicking out to take in the moisture. Close by, the female Twoleg was placing a strange crater onto the ground with fresh water. As the eldest fragment was busy eating, Rat stepped in to lap up some of the water to take the edge off hunger and thirst.
"Rat, if you know what's good for you, back off." snarled the she-cat.
The dark tortoiseshell lashed her hairless tail. "You're the only fragment eating, Lightning. It's only fair that the rest of us get some water while waiting for our turn."
Lightning's lip curled back, showing her sharp teeth. "You dare challenge me?"
Rat lapped up more water before backing down, ears flat. "I'm only thirsty, you pest."
"Then drink from a puddle!" the bright ginger she-cat snapped, going back to her meal.
Looking away, Rat spotted that Stone got a helping of the kittypet food. Swiftly she joined him, huddling close as she crunched on the dry pellets. Her yellow eyes flicking as another crater of water was placed beside them. Relaxing, she went back to crunching up the food. It tasted exactly like it had smelled, which wasn't much of anything. Still, she was willing to crunch up the pellets to save Stone from having something less than satisfying.
She slowly stopped, the dry pellets suddenly having no taste to her. Looking to her paws she wondered if there could be somewhere better. Rats made great meals, but they fought viciously back. Not to mention the foxes and coyotes that wandered at night. There was a growing pack of foxes in the Giant Garden. The very same ones that she was sure had a vendetta against cats as a whole.
"You okay?" Stone asked beside her, snapping her out of it.
Hunger quickly filtered back in, her stomach cramping from eating an actual meal. "I'm fine, just ate too fast."
"Go lay down, I'll finish up here and let Dog Chaser have the rest." he suggested.
Rat nodded as she padded away, memories of that night made the fur on her spine rise. She could never forget the night where sharp fangs and sharp yips broke the quiet. The very quiet that lulled her and Stone to sleep only heartbeats before they appeared. She laid down, folding her forelegs under her chest as she tried to escape her thoughts.
Yet, she could remember the strange kreening mewl. "Here, kitty kitty." it seemed to say before the flash of gnashing teeth, the sound of ripping flesh, and clumps of fur entered her vision. Suddenly, she was back at that night in greenleaf. Large silhouettes with pointed ears and pointed maws that opened to unveil thin sharp teeth. Snarls echoing all around her as another large thick-furred head reared back, a limp body in it's jaws that looked half torn.
A nudge brought her back, she was trembling eyes burning as she finally blinked. The dark gray tom was beside her, licking her fur as she tried to relax. What would she do if those beasts returned? What if the one that sounded like it spoke cat, was actually intelligent enough to? Shaking her head, she buried her face into his fur. It was probably nothing, but even so; that night will always haunt her.
Author Note:
It is time, to continue the story.
I will try something different for this story.
I will be aiming for 2,000+ words per chapter.
Last time I spanned usually in the 1,000 word range.
Only a few chapters reach 2,000 words so I know I can do it if I work it right.
Wish me luck to meet these goals. - NightSky
