Last chapter was INCREDIBLY strange, I know. And VERY short, I know.
Chapter 12
Ravenwing, Stormfrost, Frostfang, Whiskernose and Lionclaw padded toward the stretching mountains, fluffing their fur up against the early newleaf chill. A sea of trees spread out over the lush, leaf-littered ground as clumps of fronds and ferns grew rarer with every step.
"My paws ache!" wailed Lionclaw.
"Yeah, we've been walking for ages!" Frostfang complained, leaning against Lionclaw for support.
"Get off me!" spat Lionclaw, throwing Frostfang off his shoulders.
Ravenwing trudged on, seeing small traces of melting snow.
Lionclaw and Frostfang broke into an argument about who was more tired, cold and hungry.
"Would you two stop bickering?!" Stormfrost hissed to the two cats.
"Looks like two special cats are falling for each other!" Whiskernose teased.
"Shut up or I'll claw your ears off!" snarled Frostfang, flattening her ears back to her skull as a howling wind roared over them.
"Why don't we stop to rest?" Ravenwing suggested.
"That," huffed Lionclaw, "Is by far, the best idea I've heard in moons."
"Shut it!" Whiskernose spat, perking his ears.
"What is it?" Ravenwing asked worriedly.
Whiskernose stiffened as four dark red pelts came charging out of the thick undergrowth.
"Fox!" yowled Stormfrost, unsheathing her claws.
Frostfang bared her teeth as she leaped onto one of the foxes, sinking her claws into its neck.
"Frostfang!" Ravenwing warned. "Be careful!"
He lunged for a fox as it fastened its teeth in his daughter's shoulder.
Frostfang flung it off as the fox she was originally attacking collapsed to the floor as its honey-amber eyes glazed over.
"I can take care of myself!" she hissed to Ravenwing as he dug his claws into a fox's shoulders, sending it whimpering away in terror.
Stormfrost and Whiskernose fought off a fox, while Lionclaw and Frostfang sent one howling away into the woods.
"Good job," Ravenwing meowed, glancing down at the dead fox Frostfang had killed.
"Can we rest now?" Lionclaw asked tiredly, flopping down on a patch of dried nettle.
Ravenwing glanced at a cluster of well-shaded dens. He flicked his tail over there, watching in amusement as Lionclaw dashed into one.
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Ash-gray rocks crumbled at Ravenwing's paws as he strode with his patrol farther into the mountains. A spray of pink washed over the stones, reflecting the brightly colored light into a dazzle of soft blue as the yellow-white sun rose above the horizon. Several eagles circled the cats overhead, flapping their giant, dark wings.
A pale-tabby figure flashed past them, flinging herself on Frostfang.
"Frostfang!" Ravenwing called. He shoved the she-cat off of his daughter.
"Intruders!" spat the tabby, snarling. "What do you think you're doing on Tribe territory?"
"Tribe..." Ravenwing murmured softly. "You're the Tribe of Rushing Water!"
"That's right," the she-cat hissed. Then, her voice softened. "Wait, how'd you know...?"
"No time to explain," Ravenwing meowed. "We're here to help."
"Great!" the she-cat squealed. "I'm Lark that Sings at Dawn. But you can call me Lark."
"I'm Ravenwing," Ravenwing informed her. "And that's Stormfrost, Frostfang, Whiskernose and Lionclaw."
"He's deputy!" chimed Lionclaw.
"You all have Clan names! Like my father!" Lark squeaked.
"Huh?" Frostfang sounded purely baffled.
"Let me show you around!" Lark invited. "I separated from my group of cave-guards and prey-hunters."
"I... have no idea who they are," Whiskernose meowed, uncomfortable.
"Let me introduce you to everyone!" Lark mewed kindly.
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
"This is Brook Where Small Fish Swim, my mother, but you can call her Brook," Lark introduced them to a dark tabby she-cat.
"And this is Pine That Clings to Rock, but just Pine is fine," Lark pointed with her tail to a lithe, light brown tabby tom.
"That's Stormfur," Pine meowed darkly, his eyes flashing to a dark gray tom. "He's our father."
"Greetings," Stormfur muttered as darkly as Pine.
"Why is everyone acting so... so dark?" Lionclaw hissed to Lark.
"Sharptooth's daughter," Lark admitted. "She's been terrorizing this place for a while. She killed Splash."
"Sharptooth?" Ravenwing echoed.
"A small lion that killed cats and Feathertail, whom we shall never forget. Sharptooth died, and now his daughter is fully-grown and is coming to kill," Lark explained quickly.
"There was a prophecy about a silver cat for Sharptooth," Brook meowed quietly. "That cat, we thought was Stormfur at first, but it turned out to be his sister, Feathertail, who died while protcting Crowfeather from getting killed by Sharptooth, saving us all and going to StarClan and the Tribe of Endless Hunting."
"But now," Pine murmured. "There is a prophecy about a black cat."
Stormfur eyed Ravenwing up and down.
"Hmm..." he mewed thoughtfully. "Yes, you are indeed a black cat."
"Could he be the one, you think?" Lark queried.
"Crowfeather is dead," Stormfrost meowed.
"I believe Ravenwing is the one!" Brook cheered.
"Do you think Scratchclaw will be defeated by him?" Pine wondered aloud.
"It's worth a try," meowed a broad-shouldered cat.
"Let them stay for tonight," meowed a dark gray tom.
"Of course, Stoneteller," mewed Stormfur.
"Build them nests," Stoneteller ordered to Brook, who nodded in reply, dashing off.
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Ravenwing watched as Frostfang settled down beside Lionclaw, their fur mingling. Stormfrost settled down beside Ravenwing, breathing slowly as she drifted into a quiet sleep. Whiskernose lay down one nest over from Stormfrost.
Ravenwing's thoughts evaporated as sleep claimed him with a pang.
"Ravenwing!" Mapleshade hissed.
Ravenwing's eyes flashed open as he stood still in StarClan.
"It's time you knew..."