Chapter Five: Into the Fall- Graymoth


It was a sunny green-leaf day. The moorland was teaming with prey. The sky was wispy with clouds and the breeze was blowing like always. But one lonely cat could be spotted far from her camp, like a moving stone in a sea of grass.

The cat was a small, lean tabby. Her amber eyes were dark with sadness. She was a WindClan warrior. Fast, slim, and smart cats who live together like rabbits in tunnels- that's WindClan. But this she-cat was walking instead of running. She alone instead of with her Clanmates.

She walked at the edge of the gorge, glancing down at the river that churned below. Her name was Graymoth and she needed a break from her duties. In her waning age, she felt something nagging at her from the back of her mind. Purpose. How could she serve her Clan is her age? She wasn't old, she was just older than some cats.

But what purpose did she have in WindClan? As an apprentice, she got in trouble. As a queen, she had two perfect kits. As a warrior, she did everything a warrior was supposed to do. But her life was so average. How could she feel complete when she had done nothing for a greater good of her Clan?

Sighing, Graymoth sat down and stared at the river flowing through the gorge. She neatly wrapped her tail around her paws and craned her neck to watch the blue water crash white onto jutting rocks. Sitting here at the edge of a cliff gave her a rush of adrenaline.

The tabby sighed once, though through her nose this time. Why was she here in WindClan? Why had she not achieved any special goals in life? Was she sick? Why was she thinking this way?

"Maybe I should just fall." Graymoth murmured to herself, whiskers twitching emotionally.

It would all be over. She didn't need to be around for her kits; they were all grown up and had apprentices now. She didn't need to be around for her mate. They were less than together now. She didn't need to be around for her Clan. An old average queen couldn't be any use to WindClan.

"Just one step," the tabby said, feeling her nose run wet.

She wasn't pretty. She had plain amber eyes and an average gray tabby-striped pelt. She bore small battle scars in her flank that made her fur ragged around her tail. The Clan was already swelling its ranks with new kits and apprentices. She was just a waste of prey. A lost voice. One step and she can be free of her loneliness.

One step. Graymoth held a paw over the edge. There was no more earth. Just air. One step...

And she took that step. Like a falling bird, she fell from the cliff. The sky grew distant as the falling queen fell. The wind rushed up into her body, making Graymoth feel like a feather.

She loved it.

The layers of stone flashed before her eyes. The river had carved its way through the gorge for countless generations. It was a work of StarClan. The gorge was beautiful.

The sound of the churning river became louder and louder the longer she fell. Goodbye, Figflight. Goodbye, my kits, Mothtail, Figleaf. Goodbye, brother. Goodbye, WindClan.

The blue mass of water caught the queen and tucked her in its fold of currens. The small body drifted down the river towards the waterfalls. Waterfalls that RiverClan claimed.

Graymoth was unconscious, but not dead. Yet. Her body surfaced the water where there was at least air to be breathed. Rocks and fish passed by her, sometimes hitting her without thought. Especially the rocks.

The river made a curved turn before thundering into falls. She slammed into the gorge's outer wall and scraped her pelt against the gritty stone. The waterfalls drew closer.

Still unconscious, the falls made powerful pulls in the water, tugging on her body like a kit playing tug-of-war. But even in her sleeping-like state, memories flashed in her head.

The pictures of her and her friends facing death as apprentices. They were using the ancient WindClan tunnels to get to the farmplace quicker. Figpaw had gotten lost. Then, somehow, an ancient spirit led them out. Her name had been Shimmer Frost. She had actually gotten them more lost, but when she disappeared they were under the farmplace and her brother Thornpaw, now Thornfoot, had dug them out.

And the time when she felt her kits tumbling around in her belly. She and Figflight wanted kits badly. They were young but happy. They had two perfect kits. As proud parents, the she-kit was named after herself and the tom after her mate.

She remembered the awful times WindClan went through. Rogues, kittypets from the farmplace, three new leaderships in her own life!

Her amber eyes shot open. Graymoth didn't want to die just yet! She choked on the water, so she somehow spit it out through her nose. Unaware when was about to fall over a waterfall, she began to think the noise was just wind blowing over moorland.

When the river turned her body around she saw a watery drop, yet he didn't panic. But... WindClan cats hate water. What was she going to do? Have a watery death? Panic for the inevitable situation she put herself in?

Graymoth didn't know how to swim. But even if she did it was too late to try to swim back. The tabby queen took a deep breath and ran. She pushed her paws and propelled herself faster to the falls. It would be less pathetic this way.

She found a small rock and clung to it, able to see the bottom of the waterfalls. It wasn't scary at all. Energy was surging through her, and she felt no emotions. The old queen pushed her paws against the stone and spread her legs out as she leapt through the air.

She was a bird. A feathery gray bird. She wasn't average. She was special. Every she-cat is special.


The RiverClan deputy padded along the pebbly bank downstream from the falls. Why had no cat believed her when she had herd a cat drowning? She knew what happened! Even the part where she was tangled in the river weeds.

Suddenly, a gray body floated past her. "I knew it!" She yowled, trying not to sound triumphant about a drowning she-cat.


a/n: We're finally out of the prologues! Yay! As you can see, each queen is different from the last and each chapter has had a different writing style. I'd like to thank all of the authors, and guests, who have reviewed. I hope Graymoth's... way of thinking isn't off-setting. I just need a wide range of different attitudes. And sorry this chapter is much shorter than the others.