PROLOGUE
A black tabby tom padded into a hollow surrounded by steep cliffs, a ragged patrol of cats following behind him. Their heads were high, but blood welled in cuts spattering their pelts, and many of them limped or stumbled along, so injured they could barely continue on.
As the cats entered the hollow, four others slipped from a cave in the rock face. Three of them were old cats, with thin frames and anxious eyes, while the fourth was a young tabby tom. Their gazes, which had been briefly hopeful, soon turned sorrowful as they beheld their wounded Clanmates.
"So you didn't win, then?" a black elder asked, his amber gaze somber.
"I'm afraid not," the tabby leader replied.
"Brackenheart," he then mewed, "I presume your den is well stocked?"
The tabby tom nodded, quickly surveying the cats who had arrived.
"I'll go get the herbs now, and begin treating everyone," Brackenheart meowed, before scampering up the cliff face and into another cave. The black tabby watched Brackenheart go, allowing his shoulders to slump.
"Of course we didn't win," he heard one of the elders say, "StarClan probably wants us dead, after how much they've done for us."
"That's a load of fox-dung!" an old sand-colored she-cat growled.
"Oh really?" the gray tabby retorted, "Since when have they given us any favors?"
"Oakstep, StarClan doesn't have to give any cat favors to show that they still care about us," the green-eyed she-cat hissed.
"Maybe not, but they could've at least let us settle somewhere that wasn't infiltrated by rats!" Oakstep spat, "As far as I can tell, they've abandoned us."
"So you're Brackenheart now, are you?" A new voice entered the conversation; it was the ginger she-cat standing just behind the leader, and her gren eyes blazed with anger.
"No," Oakstep growled, "but even a kit could see that we're finished."
"StarClan may have abandoned us," the ginger tabby she-cat growled, "but even if they have, we can still fight! We can still survive!" Her eyes burned with anger and determination, and her tail lashed back and forth.
The black tabby leader admired his deputy's faith and courage, and felt a burst of pride for his daughter. He watched Brackenheart as he bounded down the rock face, a few bundles of herbs in his jaws. He began to weave among the injured cats, and as he did, the leader opened his mouth to speak.
"Honeyleaf," another of the patrol, a white she-cat, softly meowed before he could speak. Her meow immediately drew the ginger deputy's attention, and she turned her furious gaze on the cat.
"What?" she snapped, "Do you think SkyClan's done for, too?"
The white she-cat gently laid her tail across Honeyleaf's shoulders.
"I'm just saying that Oakstep might have a point. We haven't had kits for moons, we're practically starving, and the only ceremonies we've had in seasons are to send our Clanmates to StarClan."
"So?" Honeyleaf demanded, "Does that mean we should just lie down and give up?"
"Honeyleaf," everyone turned at the sound of the leader's voice, "I... At some point you have to give up; no one can keep trying forever if nothing works. I can't bear to lead this Clan any longer; I can't stand to see us spiral into destruction; I can't stand by and watch everyone die off."
"So you're saying..." Honeyleaf stared at him, shock and horror reflected in her fiery gaze, not unlike the eyes of her mother, who now walked with the stars.
"Yes," the leader meowed, gently brushing his tail-tip across her shoulders, "I'm saying that SkyClan can't go on like this. I'm saying... I'm saying that SkyClan is no more. It will be safer for you to go off on your own; you can find more prey for yourselves, and..."
He trailed off as yowls of protest broke out around him. The sand-colored elder glared at him, while several of his warriors growled their disapproval.
"You can't be serious!" a young calico yowled. It was his other daughter, he noted with a pang, who had come to stand beside her much older sister. Honeyleaf's mate had also come to stand beside them, eyes smoldering with anger and disbelief, but he did not speak. He had always been a cat of few words.
"I am serious, Amberstrike," he meowed when he could finally make himself heard, "If we split up, we'll have a better chance of surviving than if we stay together. We can find prey easier on our own, and wsome of us can move somewhere that isn't the gorge, while others who cannot travel can stay here."
"I can show some cats a place I found, to get food," the white she-cat from before offered.
"Why haven't you shown it to us before, Frostclaw?" Amberstrike challenged.
"Well..." Frostclaw shuffled her paws, "You wouldn't like it much, anyway."
"And why not?" Amberstrike snapped.
"It's... it's Twoleg food, that's all. You have too much—" Whatever Frostclaw was about to say, Amberstrike cut her off with a furious hiss.
"You would dare to eat kittypet slop?" she demanded, "You would betray us like that?"
"Where else am I supposed to get food? Plus, the less I ate, the more there was for all of you!" Frostclaw hissed, her snow-white pelt bristling along her spine. Amberstrike growled, her tail lashing.
"I've been taking from the Twolegs, too," a ginger tom meowed, scuffling his paws on the ground.
Amberstrike unsheathed her claws, and Honeyleaf growled low in her throat.
"Of course you have," the ginger she-cat snapped, "What are you all, kittypets?"
"They're hungry, Honeyleaf, that's what they are," a pale gray she-cat spoke up, "can you really blame them?"
"Yes, Streampetal, I can," Honeyleaf growled back.
"You have a great deal of pride, Honeyleaf," the leader meowed to his daughter, "and everyone admires that. But would you rather have them die, or take a little bit of food from the Twolegs?"
"I don't want them to die, Spiderstar," Honeyleaf meowed, "but SkyClan can go on! We can move and find somewhere else to live, we can move upriver if we need to... this can't be the end! We can't... our warriors can't just eat food from Twolegs and leave us; we can find a solution!"
"Honeyleaf," Spiderstar replied, "SkyClan can't go on; we're too weak to travel any farther. If we split up and go our separate ways, we have a better chance of survival."
He then turned to the twelve cats around him.
"Frostclaw, Rowanfur," he addressed the white she-cat and ginger tom, "take whoever wants to go with you to the Twolegplace; show them where you've been finding food." The two cats dipped their heads, and Streampetal rose to join them, along with a black and white tom. They set off up the cliff and soon disappeared beyond the hollow.
"I'm too old to go any place," Oakstep, the gray elder, rasped, "I'll just stay here... There'll be a mouse or two somewhere, or the odd beetle..."
"I'll stay too," the sand-colored she-cat meowed somberly, her quarrel with Oakstep seemingly forgotten.
"And I as well," the last elder, a black tom, meowed quietly.
"I'll stay with you," Spiderstar addrssed them, "I'll make sure you have something to eat; I owe you that much."
"I'll stay too," Brackenheart, the young medicine cat, offered.
Spiderstar nodded to him, then turned to the three remaining cats: his daughters and Swallowflight. Honeyleaf's tail drooped, and she stared on, all her blazing anger gone. Amberstrike stood beside her, her eyes still alight with fury, while Swallowflight touched Honeyleaf's ear gently with his muzzle in an attempt to offer comfort. He too looked angry, though calmer than Amberstrike.
"What will you do?" Spiderstar asked them.
Amberstrike hissed wordlessly at him and refused to reply.
"I'll go upriver, and see if there's a better place there, perhaps with more prey," Honeyleaf meowed, a trace of anger still lacing her voice. Swallowflight and Amberstrike nodded in agreement, though they did not speak.
"May StarClan light your path," Spiderstar meowed. "If they even care anymore," he added bitterly. Neither of the three cats acknowledged him as they turned their backs.
They walked side by side, their strides long and purposeful. Spiderstar noted how Honeyleaf seemed to gain confidence with each pace forward, and soon they were loping steadily up the cliff face. He watched in a haze of grief as the last of his kin bounded up the slope and down the other side. His last glimpse of them was illuminated by a beam of moonlight, and he took one last moment to watch his daughters bounding away into the fading sunset.
A/N: Hello everyone; I hope you enjoyed the prologue, and don't forget to review if you have any feedback you'd like to share.
This prologue isn't my best work, but I wanted to get something other than just the allegiances onto the web.
I'll try to have chapter 1 out within the week, but if not, I'll definitely have it out by next week.
- Ashflight