Warriors Descendants of the Stars: Echo

by winterliewsound

Evil can never be completely purged. Generations have passed since the Great Battle and the Clans are thriving, but what does it mean when a cat from each Clan is bonded stronger than anything ever before? Echopaw - an apprentice from ThunderClan dreaming to become the best warrior - uncovers a dark truth deep in ThunderClan territory, and about his own birth.

2. Prologue

PROLOGUE

A full moon hung above the lake. Tired paws returned to their respective dens after the Gathering and soon the whole lake was engulfed in silence, broken only by the hoots of an owl or the skittering pawsteps of a critter. Silverpelt shone bright and clear as if the warriors of StarClan were especially alert tonight, watching over their Clanmates. A shadow flickered in the shadows in the forest beyond where the trees grew the thickest. Bright eyes shone in the darkest, flickering from left to right as if afraid somecat might see it. Convinced that the way was clear, it made a dash towards the hollow - the heart of the Clan - with a bundle of fur squirming in its jaws.

The kitten let out a loud mew of protest as the shadow slid through the thorn barrier as sneak as a snake, but no cat was awake that night. With light paws and keeping to the shadows the moon casted, it crept to the far side of the hollow where the dirtplace tunnel led out of the camp. It found a satisfying spot at the very edge where it would be easily convinced a rogue left its kitten there, but how it had managed to find the camp and leave it without leaving any scent cannot be explained. The mysterious cat hoped that this kit would be treated fairly as one of their own and would not be told about its origin.

The cat gave the kit a final lick before retreating back to the entrance of the hollow. Just before it could step through, a loud wail sounded from the nursery. It stopped in its tracks and pricked its ears.

"Heronkit? Heronkit, what's wrong?" Loud mews of anguish signaled the worst fear of a new mother. Kits started to mewl, their voices raised each time the mother wailed the dead kit's name. A guilty satisfaction welled up in the cat's heart. The raw grief of a mother would quickly accept a new kit in a heartbeat. The sudden appearance of a new kit would not be questioned much by the mother, and hopefully, other members of the Clan.

"Foxtail?"

The warriors' den rustled as a warrior pushed his way out. The shadow was gone in a moment, leaving nothing behind but a frightened kit and fading trails of stardust.