#i think the ONLY other thing i feel strongly about is gorsepaw

[cicadagaze]

there are not many design discourse things I feel very strongly about. the color of Ravenpaw's eyes is one of the only ones that I am willing to fight to the death for

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Allegiances || Prologue || Chapter 1 || From the Beginning >>

Prologue

Starlight reflected perfectly on the calm surface of a pool. Mist clung to the water’s surface, the spray gentle against the broad shoulders of the massive dark brown tabby sitting at the pool’s edge. Ferns dappled with stardust gently swayed in a breeze that smelled richly of prey and cosmos.

The big tabby raised his head, opening his jaws to scent the air. He was not alone in this serene place. His ear twitched as more shapes appeared in the distance – more cats padding silently through the grass, stars spilling out behind their paws.

He recognized them; four came from his own Clan. Redtail and his sister Spottedleaf, dappled twins. Yellowfang, short-muzzled and scruffy in even StarClan, and Mosspaw, her blotchy pelt glowing as she settled beside Spottedleaf around the pool.

Smelling of fish and clear water were the RiverClan cats – Swiftclaw, RiverClan’s last deputy, broad-shouldered and black-and-white, sat down beside Crookedstar, whose twisted jaw cut off his words as they came close. Brambleclaw, the watching tabby’s own spitting image, settled beside them.

The tabby tom looked over at the small, round-bodied cats approaching. ShadowClan. Nightstar, lean and skinny and colored like a slice of the night sky. Raggedstar sat beside Yellowfang, licking down his rumpled chest fur almost self-consciously. A young, skittish looking black tom, named Whitethroat for his white chest, needed some encouragement from Nightstar before he sat down.

WindClan was last, and had the fewest numbers. Deadfoot limped forward on his defected paw, and beside him was Gorsepaw, who greeted Mosspaw excitedly with a twitch of his whiskers, as if having another apprentice here made him more comfortable.

Silence descended as the tabby tom waited for any other stragglers. When it was clear no other cat was coming and some – Yellowfang and Deadfoot most chiefly – were getting impatient, he raised his muzzle and meowed strongly: “You know why I have called you here. There is a darkness rising in the forest.”

Eyes turned to him, wide with shock or narrowed with suspicion and worry for their Clanmates down below.

“So soon, Tigerstar?” Redtail huffed. “Things have just begun to return to normal in the forest.”

Tigerstar, the massive tabby tom, sighed. “I wish it were not so either, my friend,” he meowed, “but I think we all can sense that there is something strange in the air. Something is wrong.” Tigerstar cast his amber eyes across the pool and saw the look in the eyes of the gathered cats – it was clear that they knew.

“Yellowfang can elaborate,” Tigerstar meowed, gesturing to the dark gray she-cat with his tail.

“The forest is stirring,” the old she-cat rasped, her voice sharp and commanding. Her orange eyes flitted over every gathered cat. “I could feel something wrong – something that was shaking the world to its roots. I sought the Seeing Pool for answers.”

Yellowfang gestured to the pool before them with a ragged paw. Mosspaw looked in, as if she could see what Yellowfang saw herself, but Spottedleaf pulled her away.

“What did you see?” the tortoiseshell asked, after Mosspaw was safely on all four paws.

Yellowfang raised her blunt muzzle. “I saw a great storm – one that travels on land and not air. A prophecy occurred to me as I stood before its might: Thunder, Wind, River, and Shadow must join together, for the forest shakes to its roots.”

Tigerstar watched as fur began to bristle around the Seeing Pool. A murmur of worry rose from the gathered cats.

“I’ve had such visions too,” Nightstar confessed. “An acrid smell in the air, choking out all the life in the marshes.”

Crookedstar avoided the eyes of the cats around him. “The river dried, and my Clan starved,” he rasped.

“The moors were… torn apart,” Gorsepaw stammered, his tail bristling with barely-contained alarm. “There were b-bodies in the mud!” Mosspaw touched her nose to his shoulder in comfort.

Tigerstar’s whiskers twitched, feeling a pang of sorrow for the young cat. “I saw trees falling in the forest, sap running like blood,” he meowed. He tried to keep the emotion from his voice but how could he? That forest had been his home, and to see it die…

“So what do we do?” Raggedstar wondered, his eyes blazing. “We have to stop this!”

Yellowfang, beside him, shook her head. “I don’t think we can,” she meowed.

Raggedstar’s rumpled fur bristled. “Then we go to the one creature who can help us!” he spat.

Brambleclaw’s shoulders tensed. “How can we trust that one?” he hissed. “They are not of StarClan – or any Clan, for that matter!”

“What option do we have?” Raggedstar snapped back. “Do you want to watch the Clans die?”

Brambleclaw got to his paws, unsheathing his long, hooked claws, so much like Tigerstar’s. “Don’t talk to me about caring for one’s Clan!” he spat, his thick neck fur bristling. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about--”

“Enough!” snapped Swiftclaw. The black-and-white tom sank his jaws into Brambleclaw’s scruff and pulled the big tabby warrior back down on his haunches. It took a hiss from Yellowfang to get Raggedstar to sit back down. Swiftclaw looked out over the pool. “Now is the time for figuring out what to do, not for fighting.” Brambleclaw sheathed his claws, looking down at the ground.

Tigerstar felt a flash of pity for his half-Clan son. Brambleclaw’s relationship with any ShadowClan cat was bound to be tense, considering that a ShadowClan cat had murdered him.

“If you’re all done,” muttered Spottedleaf, her eyes darting between Brambleclaw and Raggedstar. “I agree with Raggedstar – we must send cats to that one. Our power here is limited; but that creature can help them in ways we won’t be able to.”

It took a moment before the gathered cats voiced their agreement. Too many were reluctant, in Tigerstar’s eyes. I don’t see them coming up with other options, he thought with a flash of annoyance. We can only do the best we can.

“We must choose,” he meowed, raising his voice over the ripple of water and murmur of cats. “Each Clan need only pick one cat to go. We will send them an omen to get them on their way, and guide them from here.”

“Will that be enough?” asked Mosspaw. Her blue eyes were round. “It’s surely going to be a dangerous journey.”

“They will have to take care of one another,” Redtail pointed out to her. His bushy, fox-red tail flicked. “This is no time to hold on to rivalry.”

Tigerstar nodded to the RiverClan cats. After a moment of discussion between the three of them, Brambleclaw was the one to step forward and touched his nose to the Seeing Pool. The water rippled out, forming into a reflection of a pale silver cat.

“RiverClan makes their choice,” he meowed.

“You’ve chosen well,” surmised Spottedleaf. “She’s very loyal.”

“But also half-Clan,” Deadfoot pointed out. “Is that wise?”

“I think that, in a situation like this, half-Clan blood is a boon, not a burden,” Crookedstar rasped.

Deadfoot only grunted as the pool stilled and the silvery image disappeared. Now it was ShadowClan’s turn. Tigerstar watched as Nightstar, Raggedstar, and Whitethroat discussed among themselves. Whitethroat’s suggestion must have come as a surprise – both Raggedstar and Nightstar looked stunned – but it must have been an easy choice.

Nightstar touched his nose to the pool. “ShadowClan makes their choice,” he announced as the ripples passed across the surface. A stocky shape appeared, gray with intense eyes.

“That one?” muttered Swiftclaw. “Are you sure? Half-Clan is one thing, but he was not born in ShadowClan.”

Raggedstar lashed his tail. “And? He is no less ShadowClan than any other!”

Swiftclaw only shrugged.

The water stilled. Tigerstar saw that the WindClan cats had little to discuss. Deadfoot must have known who he was going to pick from the moment the option was suggested – he dipped his intact paw into the water after giving Gorsepaw only a nod. “WindClan makes their choice,” he rumbled as the water rippled and a dark, smoky shape appeared.

This one caused a stir, and even Tigerstar found himself questioning it. That one?

“He’s just an apprentice!” Redtail insisted, his shoulders bristling with alarm. “This isn’t a joke, Deadfoot – lives are at stake!”

Deadfoot narrowed his eyes and hissed, baring his teeth. “My son can do what is necessary to save WindClan!” he spat.

“This is not just for WindClan,” Tigerstar meowed. “If any of these cats fail, all of the Clans will be affected. Are you sure he is the right choice, Deadfoot?”

Deadfoot’s spine bristled. Even Gorsepaw seemed offended, his claws flexing in the starry grass. “I have made my choice,” Deadfoot growled. “I will not change my mind.”

“Then I hope you haven’t put us in jeopardy,” Tigerstar murmured.

“It’s your turn,” huffed Deadfoot.

Tigerstar frowned down at the pool. He considered the other choices made and the cats that walked ThunderClan’s forests now. Which one would complement them all best? Who would have the most to gain from such a journey? There were cats in all the Clans with a storied destiny ahead of their paws…

Tigerstar looked up, his eyes resting on the ThunderClan cats gathered. He knew they would understand. “ThunderClan has made their choice,” he announced.

The water rippled when Tigerstar touched his tail-tip to its surface. Tigerstar watched the ripples with confidence, seeing the dark blueish shape form before him. Several cats bristled. It took them a moment to recognize who it really was in the pool.

“That one!” snapped Deadfoot. “And you chastised my choice? That one is a bad omen walking!”

Mosspaw bristled, her eyes burning. “Don’t you dare!” she spat. “Tigerstar made the right choice!”

“Did he?” murmured Brambleclaw, whose claws gripped the grasses at the edge of the pool.

Nightstar bristled. “I don’t see you all yowling over ShadowClan’s choice. Are you truly only judging ThunderClan’s chosen cat by her appearance alone?”

Tigerstar squared his shoulders. “I stand by my choice,” he declared firmly. “I will not choose another.”

“Will you all stop behaving like kits?” Yellowfang huffed. The old she-cat got to her paws. “There is no time to lose – the storm is coming. The chosen ones are the chosen ones. There is no going back. They will either work together or they will all perish.”

“I think they will do fine,” Spottedleaf murmured, looking down at the pool. “With the right paws to guide them…”

Tigerstar raised his voice: “Yellowfang and Spottedleaf are right. The chosen ones have been selected. We must deliver the prophecy unto them. A great burden lies on their shoulders… you all know that not just the forest is at stake here, but us, too.”

He saw Deadfoot’s eyes flash. Was he regretting his choice now?

Tigerstar lashed his tail. There was no time for regret. “Go – speak to your chosen. There is much to be done.”