I'm back! New story for another year. Okay, so maybe I didn't actually finish writing this one yet (as I'd planned to before uploading), but I've been sitting on much of this story for a few months now and I want to get it out there. If you look at my record, you know I am good for finishing any story I've started (no matter how long it takes) so here you go. Enjoy some Old Forest Warriors with all OC cats!

Note: Harestar is not the Harestar from the lake territories. Different cats. Different times.


Prologue

"Redfur!"

The fox-colored tom stopped short when his name echoed from the tunnel behind him. His ears twisted and the sparkle of starlight in his fur dimmed as he turned away from the glittering quartz stone that towered in front of him.

Lichenfur rushed from the tunnel entrance into the glow of the cavern. The former medicine she-cat was followed by Gustystar, the previous leader of WindClan. It had been a sad yet joyous day when Gustystar joined StarClan, for with his coming Harepelt had became leader.

Redfur had willingly given a life to Harestar when the brown tom visited StarClan. So many things to say and to share, but his brother had been forbidden from speaking during the ceremony. The most difficult memory about that night had been had been for Redfur to ignore the black and white tom at Harestar's side that oversaw the ceremony.

"Redfur," Lichenfur yowled again, "Stop!"

The ginger tom flicked his tail. The Moonstone was close, but he would eventually have to face these cats on his return to StarClan.

"You can't do it," Gustystar meowed before Redfur could say anything.

Redfur laid his ears back, "Do what?"

"Don't pretend we don't know why you are here," the leader growled.

"Because you feel the same way," Redfur meowed, trying to stop the tremble in his voice.

"No, we're here to stop you from making a mistake," Lichenfur shook her head. Her fluffy pelt, speckles of white on gray, drifted long after her movement was finished. The stars in her fur floated like a cloud around her body.

"Mistake?" Redfur snapped, one ear lowering while the other raised high. "If you don't think the prophecy had anything to do with him you wouldn't be here." They were hare-brains if they refused to accept the signs.

The two cats shared a nervous glance until Lichenfur stepped forward, laying a paw on Redfur's.

"Not all prophecies come true, Redfur. They are only warnings of what might be."

He yanked his paw away, backing one step closer to the Moonstone. "And it is our duty to warn WindClan! They are in danger, and you stand here and do nothing."

"We can do nothing," Gustystar grumbled. The annoyance in the leader's eyes made Redfur pause.

"Then speak to Harestar, or to another Clan."

"We do not involve other Clans in our business," Gustystar snorted. The tom shook his head in disgust at the thought. Even in death the Clans kept their distances, staying to the StarClan territories that most resembled their own.

"They are already involved," Redfur meowed. "I wasn't the only one to collapse and see it. When more than one Clan experiences a vision, that vision is no mere warning. Even as inexperienced a StarClan warrior as I am, I can tell. WindClan has to know."

"We do not speak with him, that is his punishment—"

"Do not speak?" Redfur yowled, his claws sliding out. "That is no punishment! Unless you wish to punish the Clan with your silence. Are you going to stand by while that murderer plays medicine cat?" Redfur's tail lashed. The stars in his ginger coat flashed like a lightning strike.

"He has shown no signs of misusing his position again," Lichenfur meowed quietly. "He hasn't—"

"You stand here making excuses for him like he was an innocent kit! If you had stopped him long ago, I wouldn't be dead!" Redfur glared at the cats confronting him.

"I am sorry for what happened," Gustystar meowed, "But have you spoken to Daywhisker? To any of the others?"

Redfur clenched his jaw.

Daywhisker had died the same day Redfur had. Redfur could remember waking in the medicine den and noticing that for the first time in days that the painful wheeze and gurgle he'd heard from the nest at the other end of the den was quiet. Daywhisker lay still, curled in his nest, body stiff and cold.

Redfur and Daywhisker had been caught in a fire. Leafbare that season had been unusually dry, followed by lack of rain into greenleaf. The season was hot, prey scarce, and plants wilted. When the clouds finally rumbled over the horizon, they brought only lightning. The spitting of rain was not enough to soothe the cracked earth. The lightning bolts shattered the sky and caught on the yellowed undergrowth in the ThunderClan territory. WindClan had seen the billowing smoke over the mournful trees. The fire didn't rage far, but it did travel into the twolegplace. Fortunately, ThunderClan had only lost hunting grounds. Not lives.

Since that first fire, more sprung up around the territories, no cat certain why. There had been no more lightning storms. Cats blamed twoleg rubbish and their loud monsters that rebuilt the blackened dens. The cats should have seen the signs that the fires were not going to end. WindClan should have expected the flames, but when they struck, Redfur and Daywhisker had been distracted by the scent of a strange she-cat trespassing on their territory and were caught in the blaze.

Redfur had barely managed to escape the worst of the heat. He'd thought Daywhisker was behind him, but when Redfur went back after the fire burnt out, he'd found the senior warrior collapsed near the ShadowClan border. Barely breathing and with fur replaced by a mass of red and black flesh, Daywhisker had been mauled by the flames. He was unresponsive and that might have been the only blessing for the burned tom as Redfur and other warriors dragged him back to camp.

The hollow had been undamaged by the flame, but Redfur could still smell the smoke and burned grass in the medicine den. Halfshine looked over the senior warrior first. Daywhisker's eyesight was gone, replaced by whitened orbs, and he made no acknowledgment of any cat, but he was alive. Halfshine had treated him, slathering herbs across his singed pelt. In the following days any food they tried to give Daywhisker was vomited up and when he did seem conscious of the other cats, his mind and words drifted. His fur took on a putrid stench, dripping with peculiar liquid.

Redfur had escaped with blistered paw pads. His chest and throat ached for days and his breath was raspy. Halfshine said he'd inhaled too much smoke. Because of his paw pads and struggles to breathe Redfur couldn't perform his duties. So the young warrior stayed in the medicine cat den, slowly recovering. Three days later he felt clear headed, and his throat felt much better, though his paws still twinged at him from time to time. He was tired of being cooped up and felt good enough for a patrol, but that morning when the raspy breath of his companion failed to sound, thoughts of wandering the tall grass fled his mind.

"Daywhisker?" Redfur whispered quietly.

He struggled to get up. His tail and leg prickled more than he thought the wounds would. He hurried to the sandy tom's side. He reached out to touch the senior warrior only to meet resistance from the stiff pelt. Redfur looked around, searching for the medicine cat. Halfshine was not in the den. Redfur lowered his ears, touching his nose against the body.

The smell of herbs could barely mask the sickly-sweet scent of death. Crimson drool leaked from the corners of the senior warrior's mouth, long dried. He felt cold to the touch. Daywhisker had died sometime in the night. His muzzle was contorted as if he'd been yowling, and his whitened eyes were wide open. He'd been in pain and Redfur had slept through it all, not there to comfort his Clanmate in his last moments.

"I am sorry," he whispered. Redfur's chin fell and he closed his eyes, praying for the spirit's forgiveness.

The sound of pawsteps padded into the medicine cat den. Redfur whipped around. Halfshine stood there, paused in the entrance. The mostly black tom had a large white patch on one half of his face, like the half-moon. He stood between the heather stems that hung from the entrance. Two mice swung from his jaws.

"Halfshine," Redfur choked, "Daywhisker is dead."

The medicine cat sighed, but did not seem surprised as he padded further into the den. He placed the mice on the ground at Redfur's feet. They did not smell fresh, and reminded Redfur of Daywhisker's body so strongly his stomach churned.

Halfshine lowered himself to the ground, sniffing Daywhisker's side. He placed a paw on the body and quickly removed it. It did not take a medicine cat to see the cat was dead, but Redfur appreciated the gestures, hoping somehow maybe he was mistaken and Halfshine had some herb to reverse this disaster. Halfshine moved his paw to Daywhisker's face, and closed the senior warrior's whitened eyes.

"I knew it would happen," Halfshine meowed. "It was only a matter of time. At least he's not in pain any longer."

Redfur peered down at his former mentor. "He doesn't look at peace." Redfur sniffed, his nose dripping.

"Now he can run in the fields of StarClan," Halfshine assured him, brushing his tail down the other tom's side. "I will let Gustystar know. Eat your mouse and when I come back, I'll check your chest again. You should be out today. I'll let Harepelt know. He might let you go on a patrol."

Redfur couldn't feel warm enough to smile back at the medicine cat.

"I-I'd just hoped he'd make it," Redfur meowed quietly. He'd failed his Clanmate. He'd fled instead of staying to help the older tom. Now he understood how Pheasant-tail felt when the dogs tore apart Twistedbriar. He should have stayed.

"You seemed so sure last night," Redfur went on.

Halfshine, partway to the entrance, stopped in his tracks. "What do you mean? Weren't you sleeping?"

Redfur nodded. "Your voices woke me. Daywhisker spoke, didn't he? I heard him. It wasn't much, but he asked for your help and you said the berries would help him."

"Berries?" Halfshine whirled around to face Redfur. His blue eyes flickered toward Daywhisker's body, then toward the herbstore in the back of the den.

"The red ones. But I guess StarClan calls who they will." Redfur sighed and looked at the medicine cat. He flinched when he met Halfshine's intense stare.

"You haven't seen them before have you?" the black and white tom meowed. "You couldn't describe them again, if someone asked?"

"Well, I could," Redfur didn't understand the questions. It seemed an odd thing to bring up with Daywhisker dead beside them. They should tell Gustystar.

Halfshine grimaced. "I. . . I need to get something. Hold on." Halfshine headed for the herb store.

Redfur looked down at his paws and reached out to Daywhisker. "I'll remember you, always. You taught me much. I promise I'll look after my Clanmates better. I won't abandon them."

"It wasn't your fault." Halfshine meowed, heading back. The tom's head was lowered, and he did not meet Redfur's eyes. Redfur did not care. He'd heard these platitudes before.

"D-did you want to help me prepare the body?" Halfshine asked as he dropped the bundle he carried between his chin and throat. The leaf fell to the ground. It started to unravel, but Halfshine caught it in a claw, pinning the herb bundle to the ground. Something red oozed out of the ends.

Redfur nodded. "I do." Though Redfur knew it was a medicine cat's duty to prepare the dead with sweet herbs, he was honored to be invited to help. Just as it was the elders' duty to bury the dead after a vigil.

"I appreciate your help," Halfshine whispered. "If you would chew this for me. . ."

Stupidly, trustingly, Redfur had taken the bundle Halfshine had offered him. He bit into the leaves as he had with any traveling herbs when visiting the Moonstone as an apprentice. . .

"Did Daywhisker deserve to suffer longer?" Gustystar interrupted Redfur's bitter memory.

"Don't tell me you condone his actions!" Redfur hissed. His pelt bristled and the anger he'd kept so well in check nearly split his pelt. All this time he had assumed they had abhorred Halfshine's actions. Now Redfur stared at the cats in front of him, hating them. If they weren't of higher rank than him, he would have struck them.

"We do not like that he has sent cats to our ranks early," Gustystar meowed, not meeting Redfur's eyes, "but there was little doubt some of those cats would not recover. He did not want them to be in pain. His heart is in the right place."

"Some," Redfur snapped. "Some. Not me. Not. Me."

"And never since you," Lichenfur meowed.

"I don't care if he regrets it. I don't care if he saved all four leaders from a pack of dogs," Redfur growled, "He is going to do it again."

He knew Halfshine claimed he had died from yellowcough. That Redfur's weakened lungs had made him susceptible to the sudden disease. Redfur had been to his own vigil, watching his brother Harepelt sit by his side through the night. Alone, but for the black and white medicine cat who sat within whisker distance, tail touching the then-deputy's flank in consolation. Both appeared to be in mourning for the remaining member of their family. Redfur had glared at Halfshine and raged as the Clan simply believed the lie and did not punish the murderer. And now StarClan refused to do the same.

Suddenly from the tunnel entrance stepped a gray she-cat whose stripes twisted down her legs and back like vines. Her limbs were long and her steps light, but her muzzle was drawn in to a harsh frown. At Redfur's glance behind them, Lichenfur and Gustystar twisted to see who had entered the cavern.

"What are you doing?" Gustystar meowed, ears held high. "You're supposed to be guarding—"

Twistedbriar ignored him, stepping until she was face to face with Redfur. Their muzzles brushed and Redfur had to lean away.

"Okay, warrior," the gray she-cat meowed. "So you go down to WindClan. Who do you tell? Harestar? Are you going to force him to choose between believing the word of his brother or his son? Do you want to cause a rift in the Clan by telling one of the warriors? Why should anyone believe a warrior? Why should the warrior believe you aren't more than a nightmare? They aren't trained for interpreting visions! You want to tell Halfshine what you saw?"

Redfur's lip lifted at the thought of warning the very cat he despised. The last thing he remembered seeing while alive was Halfshine's black and white face looming over him, holding his jaws shut to keep him from vomiting out the berries that caused his demise. He didn't want to speak to that black-heart ever again.

"I thought not," Twistedbriar meowed. "You'd be breaking StarClan's vow not to speak with him again if you did. It is no punishment to you, Redfur, but to a medicine cat, their connection to the warrior ancestors is everything."

"Exactly," Lichenfur agreed with her former apprentice.

Redfur bristled. They were right and he hated it. He had no one to talk to in the living Clan. No one that would believe him.

"What are you doing here, Twistedbriar?" Gustystar demanded again. "You were supposed to guard the entrance, not listen in on us!"

"I was guarding it," Twistedbriar meowed, glancing at the leader. "I saw cats on their way. We better end this now before they overhear." She turned to Redfur. "Halfshine has not shown signs of repeating his actions. And until he does, we will not cast shadows in the Clan. We care about WindClan as much as you do, Redfur."

Looking at the gray she-cat Redfur could almost believe her.

"We are medicine cats and leaders," Gustystar meowed. "We know what we are doing. It is better to trust us with the visions than a rash young warrior. When the time is right, we will let WindClan know. Trust us. Don't make a mistake in your anger."

Redfur shot a glare back in the direction of the old tom.

"Promise us now that you will say nothing of what you saw," Gustystar meowed. "And we will say nothing more of the matter."

Redfur clenched his jaws.

"Get to it warrior," Twistedbriar meowed, ears twitching. "We aren't the only Clan to use this place and this is not a conversation we want anyone overhearing. The Clans don't need to know where WindClan buries the crowfood and dirt."

"Fine," Redfur spat out. "I won't tell Harestar what I saw."

"Or any of the warriors?" Gustystar narrowed his eyes.

"Or the warriors."

The vow felt like dirty water in Redfur's mouth.

"Good. Thank you, Redfur," Lichenfur meowed.

Redfur didn't bother to respond. He whipped around, pushing past Twistedbriar as he made for the Moonstone.

"Where are you going?" Gustystar demanded.

"To see WindClan," Redfur growled. "You can't stop me from visiting them. I might not be allowed to speak with any cat, but someone has to keep an eye on that black-heart. The moment he kills another warrior, you know where I'll be."

Redfur thrust his nose against the shining stone. It was cold as Daywhisker's pelt had been, and sharp as snow crystals. He closed his eyes and thought only of his Clan. The three former WindClan cats might be right about there being no one in WindClan to warn, but Redfur made his own vow.

He might not be able to tell Harestar or any warrior, but when the right cat came along, Redfur wasn't going to stay silent.