`` V I S I O N A R Y

&& watch my life unfold

in a vision of time

Two WindClan warriors are caught up in a deadly plot against the WindClan leader—can their deceased father uncover an answer through his own past before it's too late?

Russetstripe—the father of two of my favorite cats.

I figured it was time for HIS story to come out.

Story takes place in the original forest

LONG after Firestar becomes a gross skeleton.

I own Russeh, Orange, and Asseh.

I do not own Tallstar or Warriors—that's Erin Hunter.

I also don't own Fickle or Blackie. They belong to Streakz.

If you take my characters I'll butcher you and eat your children.

And if you don't have children then you get lucky.

…

If you take Streakz's characters it'll be even worse.

Because we'll both come after you and kill you.

And I'll eat your uncle. Yumm, uncles and children.

Got it? 8D Simp out. –salutes-

p r o l o g u e – the vision.

A figure sat before the rippling surface of the silver pool, a silhouette whose featureless black form grew detail as the watcher grew closer. What had been fur of neutral tone became dark ginger, what could have been any animal became recognizable as that of a longhaired tomcat—his flamelike orange eyes focused within the depths of the water. Faint brown stripes ran through his ginger pelt, solid but for the white snip slicing up his nosebridge and the snow-colored paws he held tucked underneath him. Stars glittered in his pelt, in his eyes, marking him as a cat who no longer walked the earth—but the sky.

The cat who had once led WindClan stopped at the other tom's side, flicking his long black-and-white tail in greeting. The ginger warrior looked up after a moment, and his eyes were respectful. "Tallstar," he meowed, dipping his head, "It has been long since you've come to the viewing pools."

Tallstar nodded slowly, curling his tail around his dark paws as he seated himself by Russetstripe. "WindClan is in good paws now—it is long past my time to deal in the affairs of the living. I can walk the skies without fear for my Clan, or for this forest now." His breezy sigh made the other warrior look up again, startled.

"Then why are you here, friend?"

"It came to my attention that a certain StarClan tom's decendants were wreaking havoc on WindClan," Tallstar said, chuckling slightly when Russetstripe flattened his ears in chagrin. "I must admit I was curious as to what they're doing and what you might know about it."

With a sigh, the ginger tomcat sat back, rasping his pink tongue over one hueless paw and scraping it over an ear. "Wreaking havoc is an exaggeration," he objected indignantly, to which the legendary WindClanner chuckled. "But yes, I'm watching them. I have faith in them—they won't make the same mistakes I made. Ah, but look at them—I wish I could be there, to help them—to guide them!" His voice was rueful, and once again Tallstar's curiosity was aroused.

"Forgive me, Russetstripe—?" Those firey amber eyes blinked reluctantly before in the traditional gesture, he swept his tail across Tallstar's eyes. The black-and-white leader looked down and gazed into the pool.

The first scene was of a she-cat hurtling down the moor, presumably Russetstripe's daughter. Her fur was of a brighter ginger and her throat and muzzle were both as white as the warrior's paws, but they had those same flickering amber eyes. Her slender frame and long fur held that same inherent attraction as did her father's.

"She's beautiful. Your daughter, correct?" Tallstar asked. Russetstripe nodded, pride filling his eyes.

"Her name's Orangeflash—and the name fits her. Oh, I wish I'd gotten to know her as she is now—but the closest I can get is watching her through this viewing pool." The dark ginger warrior's voice had a ring of tragic sorrow in it, and Tallstar let the tip of his tail rest on the other tom's shoulder for a moment—he'd passed hundreds of moons ago, but still that ache of knowing how disconnected he was to his Clan hung within his heart.

The legendary leader turned his eyes back to the pool, where Russetstripe's daughter was still racing across the moor. The sky was growing dim as dusk fell, but there was no way she could be missed—her vivid orange fur shone like a brand of fire as her white paws touched down on the Thunderpath.

"Where's she going?" Tallstar asked, interested, leaning in.

"Here."

The pool's vision rippled and changed—and Tallstar started in surprise. "That's Ficklestar!" He was long disconnected from the cats of his Clan, but he knew the current leader when he saw him—the small tortoiseshell with the traumatic past. Flanking him was a tall white warrior with black patches. "And who's he?"

"Blackblizzard," Russetstripe answered absentmindedly, "Ficklestar's jerk of a brother. And that cat there, in the lead—that's my son, Assassin."

Leading the two siblings was a thin, spidery black tomcat. He was silent as he moved, not so much as a whisper of sound escaping him, and that made chills run down Tallstar's spine. "That's a rogue," he said numbly, eyes passing over the tattered ears, the scars passing over that inky pelt.

"No. That's a warrior."

"How did a rogue become a warrior?! How is he your son?"

Russetstripe sighed and paused the scene—and now Tallstar saw what he had not before, the flamelike figure of Orangeflash racing towards them from the other direction, no more than a pinprick of light but surely in pursuit. What was happening?

Those flamelike eyes of the StarClan tom turned on the former WindClan leader. In his day, no cat would have dared to meet Tallstar eye-to-eye in the bold way that this warrior did—but then again, Russetstripe had always been cocky. And in StarClan, all were equal.

"That is a long story, Tallstar. And doubtless over the centuries you have heard many of them—it is sure to bore you."

That was true, but the leader had to know. "Russetstripe," Tallstar said with a sigh, "A rogue is leading the WindClan leader and his notably treacherous brother into a city full of twolegs, and your daughter's mixed up in this all as well. I think I deserve to hear why."

A long, level glance was passed between them before the dark ginger warrior replied curtly. "Very well. I was a fool—a cocky, attractive, good-for-nothing fool." The waters of the pool rippled again and a new scene formed within it—and this was neither Russetstripe's night-painted son nor flame-tinted daughter, but the StarClan cat himself, as he'd been in life. Tallstar leaned forward and watched Russetstripe's tale unfold.

w r i t e r c o m m e n t s -

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