"Flamestar! Cats have been sighted!" The messenger yowled as he raced into the makeshift camp.

A young warrior shivered in the cold, her voice muted. "We should not have come."

"We had no choice, Cinderleaf," her mate whispered back.

"I know, Oaksun. But we are cats of fire, this land can only do us harm," she murmured, nuzzling closer to Oaksun for warmth.

A pair of kits, only three moons old, squeaked as snow began to sprinkle down. Their mother pinned them close with her fluffy tail, trying to warm them as best she could. Her mate, a burly tom with fur as long as hers, breathed outward sharply. A fire lit on the ground, and nearby cats began to put wood on it, trying to keep the heat source from stopping.

Flamestar rose. "Come, my Clan. We must continue."

(Fake linebreak since the first chapter screwed them up when I posted...)

"Whitestar! Cats have been sighted!" Snowleaf ran into camp, panting slightly.

Whitestar ran from his den. "What do they look like?"

"Nothing like us, sir. Most seem to have short fur, but those who do are freezing, too. They don't blend in at all. They all seem to be gray, red, brown, gold, colors like that. And, sir..."

"Yes?"

"... they have kits with them."

Whitestar looked up sharply. "Kits? Outside?"

"Yes. They're all young, under five moons. One she-cat just gave birth, I saw it."

"We must help them, Whitestar!" Hazelsky, a permanent queen, said as she walked up. "We may not want them here, but those kits will die in the cold."

"Kits? What's all this then?" Pineheart, one of her sons, asked loudly.

Cats began to gather. "Kits? Where? Outside? We have to help! They'll die! Whitestar, please! Give the order!"

He sighed, head bowed, before looking up. "We will go to them. Hollyfeather, Rosecloud, organize some hunting patrols."

"Yes, sir!" Hollyfeather began rounding up some cats while others were called over by Rosecloud.

"Warriors, apprentices, come! We will help!"

(Fake linebreak...)

"Flamestar! The cats are coming!"

"Ready for battle!" Flamestar jumped down, already planning the attack when a shy she-cat named Smokefur walked up. "Sir, it's possible they don't want to attack..."

"Of course they want to attack, why else would they bring warriors?"

"To help, sir. Clans don't always fight..."

"Yes, they do. It is a dishonor not to!"

"No, sir, it's not... Our Clan is raised to think that way, but you should see the truth... War kills, sir... You never see those cats again, unless they want you to... And why would they? Their Clan was the worst of them all... See the truth, sir... Sir, please!... Don't..." Her voice kept trailing off as she tried to speak loudly.

Flamestar sighed. "Smokefur, I know you hate war, but you must see! War is beautiful! It brings out the fire inside! Fire is good, it is powerful unopposed! We are power itself! Now, go and help our Clan!"

"... No."

"No? What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, I will not harm cats who potentially come to help us." She sighed, shaking her head. "Think of it this way, Flamestar. Our numbers, our ranks, are getting thin. We must get more, or we will lose. Think, Flamestar. Really think. Will getting us hurt help us at all?" Her voice gained strength as she continued. "Think like the leader you are. Our Clan is too fierce, too hung up on being the best. We need to get used to things as they are. Power doesn't help, but an open mind...? The possibilities are endless." She stood. "I will go and speak with these cats. You can send others with me, or let me go alone, but I tell you, I will go, no matter what." She turned and left.

Flamestar watched her go in astonished shock. Smokefur was very quiet, always loyal, though she tended to look down on war. This, however... She obviously believed what she had said. He would not stop her.

(Fake linebreak again...)

"Whitestar! There's a cat approaching!"

"Let her come. She's probably just curious."

The small figure struggled towards them, and the slim shape of a gray cat came into view. She eventually made it to them, and stood there, panting, before inclining her head. "Who is the leader here?"

"Whitestar." Frostmoon stepped forward. "Over there."

"White... star? Are you a Clan?" Her curiosity was genuine.

"We are IceClan. Now, go to Whitestar. He will answer your questions."

"IceClan? Didn't you separate from WaterClan a long time ago?"

"How did you know?" Frostmoon asked, her voice full of surprise.

"I am Smokefur, of FireClan."

A/N: So, minor cliffhanger! Please review!