Hope saw a flash of blue-gray whizz past her head as she dodged from yet another surprise attack from her temporary mentee. Rosemary wouldn't give her a break- they had been training all day and it was almost dusk, yet they didn't stop just yet.

Hope had to admit that she had learned quite a bit in the few hours that had passed, she now knew how to dodge and track an opponent's next move. She had also learned a quick defence maneuver, as well as being told that the easiest places to strike were usually the flank and head.

"Good," Rosemary said, though her tone held no pride or praise. "You've been learning quickly, young tenderfoot. How many moons are you, again?"

Hope frowned. It was the third time Rosemary had asked her age, and every time the information she gave seemed to bounce off her. She didn't have to count this time, like she did the others.

"Eight moons."

Hope had been in training for three moons- younglings became tenderfeet at five moons old. She considered herself good at hunting already, but, of course, she still had to train for six more moons. Such a long time.

Rosemary nodded, seeming to take in the information this time. "So young," she muttered. "Will you ever be ready?"

Hope looked at Rosemary quizically. "Ready? Ready for what?"

Rosemary blinked, whiskers twitching. "Nothing," she said, waving her tail dismissively. "Shall we go back to camp?"

Hope shrugged, nodding and trekking through the undergrowth behind Rosemary as she took her back to camp. She wanted someone to talk about Rosemary's behaviour with, but she wasn't sure she wanted to tell Sun. She sighed- she didn't really know anyone else.

Finally, they arrived back at camp, and Hope was exhausted. Before she could go over to the prey-pile, however, she heard something that sent a chill down her spine, leaving her frozen in place.

"A broken hope is to be restored. What once was shall be a tale told by the flaming bird's own."

Hope thought she saw a flash of white disappear behind a bush, so she quickly got to her paws and followed it- when had she lay down? She padded over to the push, peering behind it.

"Broken lives and broken hearts. One prospered when they were thought to have fallen."

Hope whipped around in alarm, realizing she was almost nose-to-nose with the cat from her dream. Her eyes went wide as she took in its breath-taking, starry pelt. She opened her jaws to ask who the cat was, but no words came out, no matter how hard she tried to speak. What was going on? Why was this cat in the waking world, if they were only from a nonsensical dream?

"Have courage."

When Hope blinked, the cat disappeared and had been replaced by a mangled figure on the ground in front of her. Its shining golden fur was torn and dotted by red, clotted blood. It smelled of death and something else she couldn't put a word to.

Hope felt her paws moving, though she barely knew they were. Her gaze was fixated on the figure, and only when she saw the face did she realize who it was.

It was Sun.

Gasping in horror, Hope reeled backwards. Her breathing quickened as she stared at Sun's body with fear.

"Hope? Hope, are you okay?! Hope!"

The voice seemed to come from nowhere but everywhere at the same time. It was only after she heard a sharp scream that her eyes snapped open.

"Shadekit, no!"

hey guys sorry for the super short chapter, i seriously couldn't think of any filler and wanted to get all the dumb sad prophecy stuff out of the way, rip hope. wonder what'll happen now? :)))