The Beginning Of The... }{ Action, First Leaders

[Thunder]

Title: The Beginning of the Forest Clans
Chapters: So far, one, to be at least 15.
Author: Crowfeather's Loyalty
Pairing: N/A
Rating: PG
Summary: “River, Shadow, Thunder, and Wind. You will bring peace to this forest, and lead it to greatness. Five clans will rise. RiverClan, ShadowClan, ThunderClan, WindClan and StarClan.”
Warning: A little gore, not too bad.
Disclaimer: Warriors copyright HarperCollins Publisher.
Beta: N/A
Cover: N/A Possibly someday.

Author's Notes: This is the story of how the Forest Clans came to be, I used the characters mentioned in Secrets of the Clans (Copyright Erin Hunter), and also I will use her story at the end.

Prologue

Two kits tumbled outside into the freezing cold of a harsh leaf-bare. A sharp voice brought them zipping back inside the warm nursery, crouched low, their tails dragging on the ground in shame. A white queen stood over them, her eyes blazing.

“Bluekit! Snowkit! Have more respect for your poor mother.” A voice purred gently behind them. Bluekit and Snowkit crouched even lower when a large blue-gray tom padded into the den, his broad shoulders almost filling the gap of the entrance. The queen purred and nuzzled the tom.

“It’s ok, Strongheart. I’ll send them off to the elders for a story.” Bluekit and Snowkit perked up instantly and looked at their mother lovingly and happily. Strongheart purred.

“Alright, Moonflower. Just be careful, Bluekit, Snowkit. That Twistedfoot has a nasty temper sometimes.” Bluekit and Snowkit purred and nuzzled Strongheart lovingly before turning eagerly to their mother. Strongheart chuckled and backed out of the den. Moonflower waited until his pawsteps were gone before herding her kits out into the snow.

“Ahhh… here for a story or two, Bluekit, Snowkit?” an elder with clear blue eyes and soft white fur purred. Bluekit and Snowkit jumped up and down.

“Yes, yes Blindheart!” the mewed in unison. The blind she-cat nodded.

“Alright. But I might need some help from Whiteflame.” She purred, nodding to a gray tom that she had obviously scented before he arrived. “And no interrupting, please.” she meowed. Whiteflame nodded, curling up next to Blindheart. Moonflower nodded her thanks and went back to the nursery. Whiteflame spoke first.

“Bluekit, Snowkit, we are going to tell you the story of how the four clans of the forest came to be…”[/b]

Long ago, there were no clans in this forest. Just groups of cats that fought bitterly for prey and territory each and every day. StarClan did not exist at the time. The forest was in chaos. But four cats were destined to begin the four clans of the forest…

A black she-kit was pushed harshly into the world, using her first breath to yowl. Her mother, also black, licked the top of her head and set her amongst her brother. Those were the only two kits to be born to the cat. But the black she-kit would be an important part of the future. The mother licked each of the kits heads. “You,” she meowed, licking the top of the tom, who was pale yellow, like his father. “will be Lightning. And you,” she licked to top of the black she-kit’s head. “will be Shadow.”

A silvery-coated tom was brought into the world in a warm, quiet den, near a rushing river. His father stood nearby, his eyes proud and happy. His mother smiled and placed him next to his two sisters. “They will be named Fire,” she meowed, licking head of her flame-colored daughter. “Fury,” she meowed, licking the head of a feisty silver she-kit. “and River.” She meowed, licking her only son’s head. River would be just as important as Shadow someday.

Near a windy moor, four kits were born. One, a wiry little gray she-kit, would also be important like Shadow and River. Her mother licked the top of her first kits head, a silver tabby tom. “You will be Gorse.” She meowed. Then she licked the top of her second kits head, a very light gray she-kit. “You will be Thrush.” She mewed. She then licked the top of her third kits head, a black tom. “You will be Venom.” Then she licked her last kits head, the wiry gray she-kit. “And you will be Wind.” She meowed.

Under a stormy sky, one kit was born. He was a large kit, even though newborn, and was the color of the orange autumn leaves. He had large white paws, determining a large size later on. His mother proudly licked his head. “You, my only, strong kit, will be named Thunder. I imagine you ruling many cats one day…” she meowed, blinking at her mate, who nodded approvingly. How true she would be someday.

In the starry sky, a lone she-cat looked down upon the four kits. “River, Shadow, Thunder, and Wind.” She murmured, her eyes glowing. “You will bring peace to this forest, and lead it to greatness. Five clans will rise. RiverClan, ShadowClan, ThunderClan, WindClan and StarClan.” Her eyes glowed brighter. “We will be StarClan.” She meowed. Suddenly, many cats appeared around her, their pelts sprinkled with stars and their eyes glowing with the same intensity.

“River, Shadow, Thunder and Wind.” They chanted.

“And StarClan!” The she-cat meowed, her eyes glowing very intensely now. She drew her paw across a pool of water. The four cats, Thunder, River, Shadow and Wind, stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, with many cats behind them. She spoke one last time.

“Five clans will rise… in four seasons time…”

[Thunder]

Chapter 1

A large orange tom padded proudly through the forest, his chest puffed out and his tail held high. In his mouth he held a thrush, its wings limp and eyes closed. A pretty yellow she-cat padded up to him.

“Thunder! Your first catch!” she purred, rubbing her whiskers against his. Thunder twitched his ears modestly.

“Well… I was taught by one of the best.” The she-cat pretended to look confused.

“Who?”

“You, Moth!” he purred, licking her head gently. Moth purred in amusement.

“Your mother, you mean. Don’t call me Moth, it sounds strange coming from you. Thunder shrugged.

“Sorry, Moth, not much I can do about it!” he meowed, prancing away from her. She followed, hissing playfully as she batted at his tail. Thunder batted her nose with a sheathed paw and yawned.

“I’m heading back home, I’ll meet you there, Moth.” He put a lot of emphasis on Moth. Moth pretended to scowl before she nodded.

“Be careful.”

“I will.” Thunder padded off, his thrush still clamped in his jaws. As he walked through the quiet forest, he took in the scents of the new-leaf. Sweet-smelling, wild onions were growing on the sides of the worn path that Thunder trod upon. He sighed happily and picked up the pace, his tail waving.

Suddenly, a long-furred black tom with white ears, a white chest, and two white paws sprang at him from the undergrowth. With a snarl, Thunder unsheathed his claws and slashed at the face of his opponent. He felt them make contact, and the other tom yowled in pain and surprise.

Not ready for the counterattack, Thunder was thrown off-balance when the black tom shoved him sideways with one of his broad shoulders. Thunder spat angrily and picked himself up. The black tom caterwauled and leaped at Thunder’s left shoulder. Thunder braced himself for the teeth, but the tom twisted in mid-air and sunk his teeth into Thunder’s spine instead.

Howling with pain, Thunder reared backward and pushed his hind paws into the tom’s stomach, gasping for air. The tom snarled and fell off of Thunder, his stomach bleeding heavily. He struggled to jump back on Thunder, to attack again, but collapsed on the ground instead. Thunder padded over, a snarl placed on his jaws. The tom groaned and blinked up at Thunder.

“Please… just make it quick.” Thunder was about to kill him, but he suddenly felt pity. His amber eyes clouded over with sadness.

“No.” he meowed. “Not while you’re defenseless.” The tom’s blue eyes widened in thanks. He sighed.

“Thank you… what is your name?” he asked, wheezing. Thunder lifted him onto his broad shoulders and started to carry him to his home.

“I’m called Thunder, what about you?” he asked, curious.

“I am Cloud.” He wheezed. Then he passed out. Thunder quickened his pace. This cat needed attention, and fast.

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Two yellow eyes peered out from behind the bush. There was the intruder. With a loud caterwaul, the owner of the two yellow eyes, a wiry brown she-cat, leaped onto the back of the intruder. The intruder, a thin gray tabby tom, yowled in surprise and twisted onto his back.

This gave the brown she-cat a very good chance of winning. She smiled and slapped the side of his face with a sheathed paw, trying to dizzy and confuse him. The tom shook his head, dazed. But he countered with a belly rake, making her stomach bleed badly. The wiry brown she-cat yowled in pain and leaped off of him.

Snarling at his advantage, the tom leapt onto her back, pinning her to the ground. The she-cat growled beneath him, but fell limp. His eyes shining in triumph, the tom relaxed his muscles, thinking he had won. But the she-cat crashed upwards, throwing the tom off and smashing him against a rock. He collided with a sickening crack before sliding to the ground, blood trickling out of the wound on his head.

The wiry brown she-cat yowled in triumph and stalked over, ready to kill him. But he looked so serene and gentle, just lying there, broken on the ground, that she took pity. She heaved him onto her thin frame and started toward her home. The tom gasped and woke up, if only for a second.

“What is your name?” he asked, his eyes closed.

“Wind. Yours?”

“Gorse.” Then he closed his eyes and passed out again.

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A silvery gray, long furred tom padded silently along the river, waiting for the flash of fish scales. Ah! There was one. It was a small fish, hardly what he was used to, but it was something. Sitting down, he waited until the fish came closer to the surface, and- SPLASH! He scooped up the fish with a claw so that it flew onto the sandy bank. Quickly, he killed it with a swift bite.

Purring happily, he walked proudly down the river bank, his tail waving. He was unaware of the cat watching him in the shadows.

She licked her lips at the sight of prey. She could easily attack him and win, then take the prey for herself. Or she could talk sweetly to him, maybe tempt him to give it to her, or he could teach her how to fish. She did quite like swimming. Smiling, the she-cat decided. She liked the second plan better. Less chance of being hurt. She thought.

She padded out into the sunlight, and its warm rays showed her beauty. She was a tortoiseshell, and though muscular looking, she was actually very delicate. Softly, she padded up behind the tom and meowed;

“Hello, stranger. I see that fish you have there… very tasty looking.” The tom whipped around, his claws unsheathing faster than you could imagine possible. When he saw the delicate tortoiseshell, he relaxed a little, but kept his claws unsheathed.

“Yes. It is.” He meowed stiffly, eyeing her suspiciously. The she-cat blinked at him hazily, flicking her tail gently back and forth.

“I suppose they are quite easy to catch?” She asked. The tom looked confused.

“Huh?”

“The fish. It’s easy to catch, right?”

“Th- oh, right. Yeah it is pretty easy to catch.” Her beauty had distracted him. The she-cat smiled. She was taking him in with her charm…

“I don’t suppose you could teach me?” she asked, trying to look helpless.

“No, no! I could teach you.” He purred, smiling at her. She smiled too.

“Thanks…?” she half-thanked, half-asked him. The tom shook his head.

“Oh, I’m River. Who are you?”

“Dapple.”

“Dapple… a pretty name.” He purred. Dapple smiled.

“Thank you River.” He nodded. Then he sat down on the riverbank and beckoned her with his tail, inviting her to sit next to him. Dapple obliged and padded quietly over to him. She sat down close to him. Her eyes gazed into the river before she gazed into River’s eyes.

“Now what?” she asked, a purr forming in her throat.

“Well, just follow my lead…”

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A black she-cat padded quietly through the marshes, her tail waving. Her green eyes watched her surroundings carefully she was still wondering why someone (she had no idea who) wanted to see her. A hiss rose in her throat when a dark gray tabby tom stepped out of the bushes. But the tom was calm. He padded up to her, his amber eyes not wary or frightened at all.

“Shadow.” He meowed. Shadow’s upper lip curled.

“Pebble.” She hissed, narrowing her green eyes. Pebble blinked at her, unconcerned about her hostility.

“What do you want, Pebble? Why do you want to speak to a cat like me, who is hardly one season?” she asked. Pebble yawned, stretching his back legs.

“Oh… nothing in particular. I just wondered if you wanted to go hunting with me tomorrow.” Shadow looked extremely surprised, but also happy.

“Wha-?” she stammered. “B-but you hate me!” but she couldn’t hide the grin. Pebble grinned too.

“So, are you coming or not, Shadow?” he asked, starting to purr.

“Of course I’m coming, you stupid furball!” she hissed, cuffing him playfully over the head with one paw. Pebble hissed playfully too. He nodded.

“Until tomorrow then…” he meowed, quickly licking her head before dashing home, but not without glancing at her over his shoulder once. Shadow was very surprised at this. But a smile broke across her face, and she gazed at Pebble once before too, heading home.

The long furred black she-cat was almost skipping with happiness when she padded into her den that evening, but she forced a scowl on her face so that her parents suspected nothing.