--Gray Skies, Black Dawn--

[Tigerfur]

Tigerfur: Well here I am again with Sunsetfur's sequel, I hope you all will enjoy it as much as Gathering Darkness! ;D For those who haven't read Gathering Darkness yet I suggest you do so, that way you can understand the story. Heres the Allegiances, and just like last time if you guys are lucky i'll post the prologue later on tonight, enjoy! ;D

Sunsetfur: HERE IT IS!

[glow=red,2,300]ALLEGIANCES[/glow][/u][/i]

RIVERCLAN

LEADER:[/u]
Mistystar—gray she-cat with blue eyes, has seven lives

DEPUTY:[/u]
Lionpelt—golden tabby tom, blue eyes

MEDICINE CAT:[/u]
Mothwing—dappled golden she-cat
Apprentice, Willowleaf—pale gray she-cat

WARRIORS:[/u]
Reedwhisker—long-legged black tom, green eyes
Voletooth—golden brown tom
Tumblepelt—light brown tabby tom
Apprentice, Darkpaw
Night shadow—black tom with blue eyes
Cloudfeather—white she-cat with a black dash on her chest and black paws
Silverpool—sleek silver-gray tabby she-cat, green eyes
Flamingfur—ginger tabby tom
Apprentice, Icepaw
Scarletfire—dark ginger she-cat
Flowerpelt—sleek ginger she-cat
Streamflower—black and white tabby she-cat blue eyes
Barkpelt—golden brown tom
Larchfur—very dark gray, almost black, tom
Shadowflicker—pale gray tom
Tigerflame—golden-brown she-cat streaked with gold, green eyes
Gorsethorn—light brown tabby tom
Ashenrain—silver tabby she-cat
Dawninglight—black and gray tabby she-cat, amber eyes
Smokepelt—black and gray tabby tom, green eyes

APPRENTICES:[/u]
Darkpaw—dark gray tabby tom
Icepaw—white she-cat with bue eyes

QUEENS:[/u]
Shadeleaf—light gray tabby she-cat (Mate—Flamingfur)
Morninglight—gray and white tabby she-cat (Mate—Shadowflicker)

KITS:[/u]
Rowankit—ginger tabby she-kit with blue eyes (Mother—Shadeleaf)
Robinkit—ginger tabby she-kit with amber eyes (Mother—Shadeleaf)
Wingkit—light gray she-kit (Mother—Dawninglight)
Graykit—dark gray tom-kit (Mother—Dawninglight)
Galekit—white and gray tabby she-kit (Mother—Dawninglight)
Thymekit—dark gray she-kit (Mother—Dawninglight)


ELDERS:[/u]
Mosspelt—tortoiseshell she-cat

NOTE - I only did RiverClan 'cause I'm too lazy to work on the other Clans, plus I'll fell bad if I kill off any cats we all love due to old age or accidents or whatever. The prologue is being edited and should be up tomorrow (5/1/07)

Thank you all for your incredible patience! ;D ;D ;D

[.Swiftclaw.]

OMG the sequel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yay!!!! ;D ;D ;D

[Tigerfur]

Tigerfur: I guess you guys are lucky tonight, unlike the last time, lol XD! Heres the prologue, i'll try to post chapter one tomorrow, enjoy! ;D

Sunsetfur: Lol Tigerfur; thanks.

Prologue
Daughter of the Sun and Moon[/u]

The time of Silverpool the Heroine is over. I never was a hero, and never will be. I only had dreams of greatness, and I was given heartbreak and pain. But now I realize that not every cat is born to be a legend, as most apprentices believe while they are still young and blissfully ignorant. Willowleaf and I are no longer young warriors with the whole world at our paws—we’re older now, with more responsibility. And I have my kits: Tigerflame, Smokepelt, Dawninglight, and Ashenrain. They are the next generation of hope, and maybe my dreams will be theirs.

Tigerflame had grown quickly, as most kits do. She was so much like Hawkwing it was slightly disturbing—she laughed often, and loved to charm others. She saw a light in a storm and the sun in leaf-bare. She fell in love with the river, the wind, the rain, and the world around her, and nothing could stop her from taking long walks in the woods and fields.

The young warrior Flamingfur had been her mentor, and he had taught her well. Tigerflame quickly became known as one of the best RiverClan fighters, inventing her own combat techniques and improvising new fighting moves. Her green eyes were alight with love and laughter and life. Willowleaf called her the daughter of the sun and moon, as her lineage was no secret to her. I had confronted her with the story of her past when she was apprenticed, and it had only fueled her desire to become the image of her father and to live in his memory.

Tigerflame was pretty—she could not deny that. Her golden-brown fur (the exact shade of Hawkwing’s) was tinged and streaked with pale gold, and she had one white forepaw. Her body was lithe and slender, with lightly muscled shoulders and white flecks around her muzzle and scattered across her ears like flecks of snow. There were other beautiful cats, like my other daughter Dawninglight and my long-time friend Cloudfeather.

Dawninglight was different. She was petite and outspoken, a flirt who loved gossip, much like Cloudfeather. Her long, sleek black and gray tabby fur shone and seemed to glow. She had amber eyes the exact shade of the sunlight dappled on the lake, and was an average fighter and hunter. She preferred swimming to either of these warrior tasks.

Ashenrain was my favorite daughter. She was quite a lot like Reedwhisker, with a pale silver pelt like mine, but shorter and plainer. She was witty and sharp, making her intelligent and a brilliant hunter. She could track a vole through rain, wind, and snow, but was surprisingly modest and was shy of praise, though she long ago earned the admiration and respect of her many friends.

Though I had taken care of Gorsethorn when he first came to RiverClan as an abandoned kit, he was never considered to be a family member. He was an average cat in every way—hunting, fighting, and personality. He had matured from a jumpy, wary kit to a very confident and cheerful tom. He attracted little attention from she-cats, though, mainly due to his plain brown fur, except for Tigerflame, who was his best friend. He shared a close relationship with Smokepelt, who was the brother he never had.

Smokepelt, my only son, was like Tigerflame. The two were best friends, and together with Gorsethorn the trio was inseparable. He loved the river and the songs of the birds, and would stay out during a storm (often accompanied by Tigerflame and Gorsethorn) to watch the rain dance in ever-changing rhythms. His name was all too fitting—his appearance was similar to Dawninglight's but shorter, more ragged, and less sleek. His eyes were a vivid, startling shade of leaf-green. He had no fear of death or time, terrible pain or battle. His only fear was of losing those most dear to him.

As the moons went by, time seemed to speed. Everything around me seemed to stay the same, while I felt as if I was becoming more different every day. Reedwhisker was always there for me, and once in a while I glimpsed Hawkwing in my dreams. Sometimes he would murmur sweet words to me, laced with his unique humor and optimism. Many times I would dream of days that seemed as if they were lifetimes away, when we sat together for long hours by the thorn bushes by the WindClan border, or of whirling wind and flashing colors punctuated by the harsh shriek of an eagle, while a pair of green eyes flashed across my vision, always there but impossible to pinpoint.

But life went on. From dew-sprinkled newleaf to sunlit greenleaf, from fiery leaf-fall to bitter leaf-bare. The endless cycle of the moon and sun and stars.

And now…

Something is about to happen. It lurks at the back of my mind, like a terrible shadow waiting to strike the unsuspecting prey. I can feel it in my heart and in my blood. Something terrible.

It will bring fire, and fear. It will be almost unstoppable. Spreading more terror than any storm, more chaos than any famine.

And somehow, Tigerflame is involved.

The question is, will her fate be like my own?

Will her ending be happy?

---

I apologize for the shortness. I just wanted a simple introduction to introduce you to Silverpool's kits and show how much she has changed. The first few chapters will be more exciting, and Chapter 1 will probably come out Friday. It's already started and WILL be MUCH longer. ;D

[ghostfeather]

OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's here!!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D

great prolouge! i'm so happy she became mates with Reedwhisker. He is so nice. Anyway post again soon!

[rabbitclaw]

its good!!!!!!!!!: )
best prolouge i've read(almost as good as vicky,cherith,or kate)

[Visitor]

Are her other kits Reedwhisker and her's?? or who is her other mate please tell us otherwise we are just kind of hanging there wondering. anyway the prolouge was good and please hurry with chapter 1!!!!!!!

[Tigerfur]

Tigerfur: Thanks for the comments guys! I'll be sure to tell Sunsetfur, heres chapter one, enjoy! ;D

Sunsetfur: Thanks everyone: Tigerfur, Beautypelt, Featherstream (lovely name btw), and Hushpad!

---

Chapter 1
Burning[/u]

It was greenleaf when it all began. In the years to come, this greenleaf would be known as the Greenleaf of the Black Sun. It was the greenleaf that shattered the lives of many cats, and ended the lives of others. There was so much misery and grief among us that everyone wondered if things would ever go back to the way they once were, after so much despair. When the quest for light finally began, I wondered if we too would only meet our ends at the hands of the unfathomable terror, greater than any blizzard and more terrible and powerful than the dark cats from the elders’ tales, BloodClan. Disease.

The day dawned pale and gray, with no wind or dew. In the sweltering shade of the warriors’ den, the heat beat down onto the warm bodies of cats, their sleek fur plastered to their flanks and their breath short and panting. My eyes were reluctant to open in the terrible heat, and my paws screamed for relief from the evil warmth.

The river, my mind whispered. Slowly, groggily, I hauled myself to my paws, cursing the sun and the season of greenleaf. The grass was parched under my paws as I wriggled out of the den and sped across the clearing. The trees stood stiff, their drooping leaves crackling and crying for rain. The gentle roar of the river had been nearly silenced.

The camp clearing was deserted. There was no sign of either moon or sun, but the heat’s relentless attack was already begun. The elders’ den near the camp entrance was surrounded by dried clumps of moss, and more of it was scattered across the clearing. The fresh-kill pile was unusually meager, as prey died from the heat far more quickly than any cat.

As I made my way out of the camp and towards the river, I noticed the absence of birds singing their morning songs in the trees. Not even a sparrow was in the air today. Drawing in my breath, I approached the riverbed.

It was a heart-stabbing sight. The normally bright, fast-flowing waters had receded to a trickling brook that wound around the river-stones and barely covered the bed of pebbles. Cracked, brown reeds stood dead almost a fox-length away from the water’s edge. The sky was a sickly, pale blue, streaked with thin gray and watery gold, and the water was so thin that there was no reflection.

“Painful to look at, isn’t it?”

I swung around to see the light gray and black tabby fur of my half-brother Smokepelt. He was a thin tom, but the heat had sapped away his energy, like most of the RiverClan cats, and his fur hung sticky and limp against his lean sides.

“It is,” I replied softly. He padded up beside me, and our reflections gleamed dimly in the water, brown and gold beside gray and black.

“The heat will pass; I am certain,” Smokepelt meowed. “Rain will come from the mountains in no time.”

“I hope you’re right. The lake’s lower than any cat can remember, even Mistystar and Mothwing.” Sighing, I dipped my head and lapped up several mouthfuls of river-water. It was warm and foul tasting to my summer-scorched throat, and I choked. “Even the river has abandoned all hope of coolness.”

“There is hope.”

“Then let’s hope it comes quickly,” I replied sourly. “Before the heat is the end of us all.”

Smokepelt chuckled softly. “You sound like Mothwing. Watch it, or you’ll end up being as irritable as her.”

“I won’t,” I assured him. “Gorsethorn would set me straight in a heartbeat.”

Smokepelt smiled. “Let’s go. Maybe Mistystar will put us on a patrol to the lake. It’s always cooler down there.”

“Only a tiny fraction cooler,” I countered playfully, flicking his flank with my tail. “Fine. But I’m not going anywhere near the WindClan border or the marshes—Gorsethorn told me that the marshes are even hotter.”

“Deal.”

We turned around in unison and made our way back to the camp. Several more cats were awake, including Mistystar and Lionpelt. Smokepelt led the way over to the leader and deputy, who were conversing with Cloudfeather and Larchfur.

Upon seeing us, Mistystar meowed, “Ah—Tigerflame and Smokepelt. Would you go with these two on a hunting patrol? You can head to the ShadowClan border and make your way around the lakeshore as far as the island. Don’t do too close to the marshes though, we’ve had numerous reports that they’ve all but dried up. The ground there is nothing but half-dried mud and treacherous swamps, plus the temperature there has risen.”

“Of course,” I meowed.

Cloudfeather led the way out of the camp. We waded across the river with strange ease, barely soaking our paws in the warm water. The greenleaf Twolegplace was buzzing with activity as usual, with numerous Twolegs bringing their kits to swim in the lake. Cloudfeather kept her distance from it and the Thunderpath, which continuously roared with passing monsters going to and from the greenleaf Twolegplace.

There was no prey in sight. A few lonely birds wheeled overhead, singing halfheartedly before retreating to the burning shade of the trees’ withered leaves. The shrill buzz of a cicada sung out from the crackling meadow grass. The absence of mice, voles, and rabbits was alarming.

“What’s the use of searching?” Larchfur hissed. “No sane prey will be out wandering in this heat. They’re all in their underground burrows, where it’s cooler.”

I had to agree. The prey-scent was even stale.

Cloudfeather sighed. “We’ll head for the lake,” she decided. “We can try our luck with the fish.” The white she-cat bounded away in the direction of the lake, Larchfur and Smokepelt behind her. I followed quietly, sending silent curses to the hateful sun and its wrath.

The lake was indeed a sorry sight. The water’s edge had receded several fox-lengths, and the dry ground it had left was littered with dried silt and mud mixed with sand and shriveled water plants. Smokepelt picked his way across the mess and looked out across the water. “At least it’s cooler here. Told you, Tigerflame.”

I wasn’t listening. A flash of movement had caught my eye—a bird had alighted on a fallen tree a few fox-lengths away from me. A magpie.

Speeding across the distance, I lightly leapt for the bird and caught it between my paws. It squawked in alarm before I brought down my paw on its throat, silencing it immediately.

“Nice catch!” Larchfur called.

Proudly, I lifted the dead magpie in my jaws and carried it back to where Cloudfeather and Larchfur stood, watching me. Smokepelt was wading in the lake, purring in delight.

“Any fish?” Cloudfeather meowed in a mock-businesslike tone. Her eyes were shining.

“Not a one,” Smokepelt called back, his voice ringing with happiness. “But the water’s incredible!” With a splash, he leaped into deeper waters and began to swim about in circles.

Hissing with excitement, Larchfur sprang after the gray and black tom. He sprang from the water’s edge and nearly drowned Smokepelt as he landed not a tail-length away.

“Great StarClan!” Larchfur yowled. “I haven’t felt this cool in ages!”

Eagerly, I padded to the shoreline and nosed the water. It was warmer than average, but cooler than the sweltering river water. It felt wonderfully cold. With a loud mew, I pushed forward and propelled myself towards the two floundering toms, throwing up water with my paws as I neared them.

Cloudfeather’s laughter issued from the shore behind me, and I twisted my head to see her wading in the shallowest waters before standing up and shaking her pelt wildly. Laughing myself, I drew closer to Smokepelt and Larchfur, who were splashing each other with the water they displaced with their paws. I sent a splash to Smokepelt, hitting him on the side of the head. He yowled with surprise, and turned to aim at me.

We battled happily for many long moments, and occasionally one of us would accidentally duck under the water to emerge, spluttering. Cloudfeather remained on the shore, watching us contentedly.

Just as I was flicking water at Larchfur with my tail, I noticed that Smokepelt had stopped. He was treading water slowly, staring at the shore behind me.

I suddenly became aware that Cloudfeather’s laughter had died.

Spinning around, I saw the white she-cat’s pelt lying crumpled in the grass. With a cry of surprise and alarm, I launched myself through the water, paddling furiously with my hind paws to reach her. I dragged myself from the water and slithered over to where she lay in the shade of a tall willow tree.

Cloudfeather was lying on her side, her eyes closed and her mouth open slightly. Her fur was slick and sticky with her sweat, particularly around her eyes and muzzle. She panted heavily: quick, rasping breaths drawn with difficulty.

Smokepelt and Larchfur were at my side at once. Larchfur gasped and immediately pressed his nose to the white she-cat’s cheek. He drew in his breath sharply and jerked his nose away from her face.

“What is it, Larchfur?” Smokepelt meowed sharply.

“I…she’s…”

Impatiently, I thrust my muzzle at Cloudfeather’s. My eyes flew wide as I felt her cheek, her nose, her neck, and her side.

“Tigerflame?” Smokepelt demanded.

“She’s burning,” I whispered. “Her pelt feels as if it’s on fire.”

Smokepelt stared at me. “Are you sure it’s not just the heat?”

I shook my head impatiently. “She’s abnormally hot, Smokepelt. And I think it is the heat that’s caused it.”

“Do you mean—”

“Yes,” I interrupted, gazing at my half-brother. “Fever.”

Larchfur croaked, “We must get her back to the camp.”

“We’ll need more than three to get her back!” I meowed. My mind was racing, and the heat wasn’t helping. “Stay here,” I added suddenly, turning to face the direction of the camp.

“What, you’re leaving?” Larchfur looked surprised and agitated.

“I’m getting Mothwing and Willowleaf,” I snapped. “Don’t let her slip away. Try to get some of the lake water to her, cool her down, anything! Just do your best to keep her cool.”

With a final glance at Smokepelt, I spun around and pelted back to the camp. My already heat-weary legs sagged and slipped beneath me, and my lungs nearly burst with all the hot air. Trees flew by, and I heard the almost inaudible whisper of the river as the camp came into sight. Forcing my way through the entrance, tugging at the thorns that snagged my fur, I yowled, “Mothwing!”

The mottled golden medicine cat appeared from her den at once. Spotting me at the tunnel, she called, “Tigerflame? What is it?”

“It’s Cloudfeather,” I panted as Mothwing bounded over. “You must come at once—she’s collapsed by the lake. She’s burning, Mothwing, burning with fever.”

---

I really appreciate your patience. ;DThe end of the school year is always the toughest and busiest time for me, and updates are guaranteed to be slow. Keep watch for Chapter 2: Passing, coming sometime this week!

~Sunny

[shadow]

LOL, it's even better the second time reading it!

[ghostfeather]

dun dun DUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i hope Cloudfeather doens't die.
or any other cats i like

post soon Tigerfur!

[Tigerfur]

Tigerfur: Once again thanks guys! ;D I'll be sure to tell Sunsetfur, heres the next chapter, enjoy! ;D

Sunsetfur: Thanks all! Sorry for the delay - SCHOOL. If you want to blame someone, blame by Ancient Civ. teacher.

Chapter 2
Passing[/u]

When a cat dies, the first thing you feel is blank horror. Then the grief hits you, and you realize that you might have known them better. You instantly regret every bad feeling you’ve ever had about them, every word uttered against them. If the cat was important in your life, you feel as if they tore a little piece of your soul away and took it with them to StarClan. And as you realize this, your despair peaks and you hate StarClan for taking this cat away from you forever.

The camp was in a frenzied state of fear and shock. Word of Cloudfeather’s illness had spread like wildfire, and terror had sent most cats cowering in their dens. Shadeleaf and Morninglight, the queens, had retreated to their dens with their kits, not daring to let them outside. This proved difficult, for they had six kits between them, all energetic and blissfully unaware of the terrible danger of the Clan’s situation.

Cloudfeather had been borne to the medicine cat clearing, hidden in the reed beds on the outskirts of the camp. Despite Mothwing’s warnings to all the RiverClan cats to stay away, a small group of cats stood anxiously near where Mothwing tended the stricken she-cat. Her mate Nightshadow was there, standing beside their daughter Streamflower. Icepaw and Darkpaw, Streamflower’s kits and Cloudfeather’s grandchildren, would have been there if Streamflower had forbade them to come, for any cat who came near Cloudfeather was risking infection. Larchfur, Smokepelt, and I were there as well, watching anxiously and wondering if we somehow could have prevented the sickness from gripping Cloudfeather.

“Of course you couldn’t have done anything,” Mothwing snapped as she peered at Cloudfeather. The she-cat was curled up in a nest of dry moss and heather, hastily put together by Icepaw and Darkpaw. “If she already had the fever, you couldn’t have prevented it. Willowleaf!” She yowled over her shoulder. “Where’s that feverfew?”

“I’m coming.” Willowleaf appeared from behind me, carrying a packet of herbs wrapped in oak leaves in her jaws. She dropped it at the edge of Cloudfeather’s nest, and the white petals and light green leaves of feverfew spilled out.

“Willowleaf, would you make the poultice for me? I’ll need a few coltsfoot sprigs as well—those may help her breathing. Great StarClan, she sounds terrible.”

Indeed, Cloudfeather’s breathing was still choked and raspy. The she-cat’s eyes were firmly shut, and the fur just under her eyes was crusted with a strange, pale brown-yellow leaking that had trickled from the corners of her eyes.

“She looks awful,” breathed a voice from behind me. I twisted my head around to see the horror-struck face and fearful green eyes of my mother, Silverpool. Cloudfeather had been her mentor.

I didn’t reply. Silverpool pushed up to stand between Smokepelt and Nightshadow, watching her ill friend. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?” The silver she-cat stared at Willowleaf, her lifelong friend, with a distraught look on her face.

“No,” Willowleaf replied softly. “But it’s obvious that she’s contracted some type of serious fever. Ask your daughter, or son.” She flicked her tail at Smokepelt and me. “They were with her when she collapsed.”

Silverpool turned to me. “What happened?”

Quickly, I recounted the events of the patrol. The silver-gray she-cat’s eyes darkened with sorrow as every phrase left my mouth.

“It has come,” she whispered, her green eyes clouded with something strange, something I had never glimpsed in her eyes before.

I watched her curiously. “What has?”

“The force,” she murmured, almost inaudibly. “The dark power that will rise above us and engulf all the Clans in shadow and death.”

A bit shaken, I held back a shudder and turned back to Mothwing and Cloudfeather. The golden medicine cat was watching the white warrior with pain-filled eyes. “What can we do, Willowleaf?” Mothwing murmured. A visible ripple of shock passed around the small group assembled there.

Willowleaf glanced at Silverpool, then meowed quietly, “We should get everyone else out of here. No one should be near her.”

“Whatever for?” Nightshadow snapped angrily. His dark shoulder fur bristled. “She is my mate. I should be with her.”

Mothwing ran her tail tip over Nightshadow’s shoulder. “The best thing you can do for Cloudfeather is to stay away,” she replied gently. “What if you catch her illness? What would your kit”—she indicated Streamflower with her ears—“do then?”

Nightshadow’s eyes burned. “Are you implying,” he began slowly and quietly, “that Cloudfeather may not…survive?” The last word caught in his throat, and he choked it out.

“No,” Willowleaf interjected sharply. “But you need to stay away, all of you. We can’t risk any more illness right now, especially when we’re not sure how to treat it just yet.”

Silverpool spoke up. “She’s right.”

With a sigh, Streamflower touched her father’s flank with her nose. “They’re right,” she meowed. “We must leave her. I’m sure they’ll call us if there’s anything wrong.” Nightshadow bowed his head, burying his nose in Streamflower’s black and white fur. She shot a meaningful glance at Mothwing, and the dappled golden she-cat nodded vigorously.

Smokepelt led the way out of the medicine cats’ clearing. Just as I had stepped out of the reeds, a flash of black and gray zoomed past me. Stumbling, I shot an angry look at the cat who was panting heavily, standing in front of Mothwing.

“Mothwing!” The she-cat cried. “You must come at once. Something’s…happened to Larchfur!”

“Oh no,” breathed the medicine cat. Stark fear was spreading over her face as she turned to Willowleaf. “Stay here,” she commanded. “Look after Cloudfeather. And ready another place for another patient, and get the same herbs we used on Cloudfeather.”

“Dawninglight?” Silverpool meowed uncertainly, walking up to the gray and black she-cat. Dawninglight was the youngest daughter of Reedwhisker and Silverpool, and one of the prettiest cats in the Clans. Her dappled tabby pelt was sleek and long, the silver-grays fading smoothly into dark black with ragged, dark stripes. Her coppery-amber eyes glistened with serenity and shone of the sun in leaf-fall. But not now.

“Larchfur’s fallen ill,” she meowed frantically as Mothwing bounded forward with a leaf-wrapped poultice in her jaws. “He…he’s all…feverish, Mothwing. His breathing’s so shallow, and there’s this weird rasp in his voice. Come on—he’s in the warriors’ den.”

Mothwing’s amber eyes glittered ominously. Turning to Willowleaf, she hissed, “No cat is to enter the medicine cats’ clearing or the warriors’ den. Alert Mistystar, and make sure that no other cat has fallen ill. We might need to clear out all the fresh-kill and change all the moss-bedding in the camp. Tigerflame, will you go with her?”

The golden medicine cat paused, her eyes glimmering. In barely a whisper, she dropped her voice to a light breathing and murmured to Willowleaf, “Tell her we may have an epidemic in our paws.”

...

The news had spread across the camp in less than a day. Larchfur and Cloudfeather were carefully isolated from all cats save Mothwing and Willowleaf, hidden away in their clearing, helplessly waiting as the two cats struggled to breathe. Several days later, Voletooth and Flowerpelt joined the afflicted cats, causing panic to erupt among the warriors. Mistystar lessened the patrols and was careful about all the fresh-kill brought into the RiverClan camp, and urged her cats to wash themselves in the river often. Fear mounted as Morninglight rushed into the medicine cats’ clearing one evening, crying out that her eldest kit, Wingkit, had fallen ill.

The medicine cats were in a wild panic. They were helpless against the illness, ten times worse than greencough. Cloudfeather’s breathing had fallen to a choking gasp, and her fur was matted and spiky with sweat. Heat from the bodies of the ill heightened the already sweltering temperature of the camp.

“They’re burning from the inside,” Nightshadow constantly meowed, his voice devoid of hope. “It will not be long before they are consumed.”

I felt as if I was slowly shrinking. The illness of the cats had stripped the courage of the oldest warriors: this was an enemy they could not hope to fight. Morninglight was distraught, and refused to heed the pleas of Willowleaf and Mothwing to stay away from the afflicted cats. She was barely away from Wingkit’s sheltered nest.

“Is this how every mother feels?” The gray and white queen whispered as I stood beside her, three days after Wingkit had become infected.

“Of course not,” I replied uncertainly. I knew my mother’s story—I was the only cat other than Reedwhisker and Willowleaf, my mother’s best friends, who knew—but I was almost certain that not every queen was victim to loss.

A harsh, rasping cough sounded from behind me, and I turned to see Mothwing plodding to Flowerpelt’s nest with a mouthful of feverfew. Her entire body shook as she gasped and sniffled.

“Mothwing?” I called. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she meowed quietly. “None of them have responded to any of our treatments, Tigerflame. If anything, they’re getting worse. Cloudfeather can barely move now, and she won’t eat anything besides the water her daughter feeds her every day.” Her throat tensed hugely as she attempted to restrain another cough.

“Mothwing…” I meowed.

“I’m fine!” She snapped. “I have cats to attend to. I can’t be sick. Anyway, Willowleaf’s perfectly well, and she’s been around them as much as I have.” She padded away, and another cough resounded around the medicine cats’ clearing.

“Morninglight,” I meowed quickly, “I’ll be back.” I nodded to my friend and swiftly followed Willowleaf’s scent to Mothwing’s den. The gray she-cat was carefully organizing the herbs. I noted that the piles of feverfew, chamomile, and borage leaves were largest.

“How’s it going?” I meowed to Willowleaf. She started and her head jerked up, as if she’d been lost in thought a moment before.

“Not good,” she answered, her voice thin and tired. “We haven’t gotten much sleep, and I don’t know what we’ll do if any other cats are infected. The Gathering is in a few days, so that’ll be a perfect chance to find out if the other Clans are infected as well.”

I nodded. “How’s Mothwing?”

Willowleaf’s paws shifted uncomfortably. “She’s…okay.” Another bout of raspy coughs sounded from the reeds.

I gave the gray medicine cat a meaningful stare. “You’re sure?”

“I…well…she…” Willowleaf spluttered. “She just can’t be ill! I’d never manage without her, Tigerflame.”

Tentatively, I placed my tail-tip on Willowleaf’s shoulder. “You have the whole Clan behind you,” I meowed. “And my mother.”

Willowleaf sighed heavily. “Thank you, Tigerflame. I should report to Mistystar. None of the cats have made any progress, unfortunately. Now we have Larchfur, Voletooth, Flowerpelt, Cloudfeather, and Wing—”

A terrible choking half-screech cut Willowleaf off. I whirled around and pelted out of the medicine cats’ den, towards the sound of Mothwing’s shriek. The reeds caught at my fur as I shoved past Voletooth’s nest and skidded to a halt beside Flowerpelt. The ginger she-cat’s breathing was low and raspy, as usual. A few fox-lengths behind her, hidden in the reeds, lay Mothwing, twitching horrible and gasping harshly and loudly.

“Mothwing!” Willowleaf’s pale gray shape flew by me, and she sat beside her mentor and friend, searching her golden fur with her nose.

“No.” I crept forward, blind fear gripping my fur with ice-cold thorns that drowned out the blistering heat of the day. Mothwing lay on her side, drawing breath with the utmost difficulty; her gasping breath was even worse than Cloudfeather’s. Her chest heaved, and she drew air with pain.

“Mothwing? Mothwing?” Willowleaf meowed frantically, nosing the golden she-cat’s cheek. I stood beside the distraught she-cat, feeling sick.

“Willowleaf?” Mothwing’s amber eyes opened in two slits. I touched her side with my paw, and quickly drew it back. The heat from her flank was unnaturally high.

“Mothwing…” I murmured.

“Don’t go,” Willowleaf urged. “I can’t take care of them all.”

“You must.” Mothwing shuddered, a spasm of pain rippling down her entire body.

“Do not give in so easily, Mothwing,” I meowed quietly. “You’re the medicine cat with the most fighting blood of all others. We will find a cure for the fever.”

“There is only one cure,” the golden she-cat answered, her voice barely audible. I thought I caught the glimmer of starshine in her eyes for a fraction of a heartbeat. “And it is beyond my reach now. I can see StarClan.”

“StarClan,” Willowleaf breathed, her eyes strangely unfocused.

“Yes,” Mothwing murmured. “The cats whom I doubted for so long. I would not have seen the starlit heavens without your light, Willowleaf. And I am…eternally in your debt for that.”

“Go in peace,” Willowleaf replied softly. “And deliver us from this terror, if you can.”

A strange light came into Mothwing’s dull eyes as they flew wide. “I am not gone yet,” she meowed in deep tones. “For there is something you must know. No one is to be told, not even Mistystar, save the ones whom this message is meant for.”

“What?”

Mothwing’s throat convulsed. “Hear my words, Willowleaf and Tigerflame, and heed them! For they shall save them all:

“Seek the leaves of the Moon and the Sun, beyond the Starpath in the far Mountains. There, an ancient shadow will wake, and only the Light can break it when they have become truly one.”

There was a smooth, musical whisper in Mothwing’s hoarse voice. Her amber eyes swiveled in her head, fixing on Willowleaf.

“Do not despair,” the golden medicine cat croaked. “I am going to the stars. I will always be watching.”

She exhaled softly, a final choke breaking the still atmosphere. Mothwing’s sun-colored eyes dimmed, and her eyelids fell softly into place as her breath was forever silenced.

Silenced.

Willowleaf’s wail shook my heart, already knotted and tight. It seemed to unwind and hang loosely in my chest as I blinked dumbly in the light, the heat vanishing around me, to be replaced with the black cold of Mothwing’s passing.

Mothwing’s passing…

...

DON'T KILL ME! It had to happen. Willowleaf's been an apprentice too long, and she'll play a large roll later on. I love Mothwing, and that scene was hard to write...

Chapter 3, tentatively titled "Horror", WILL appear by Saturday. I have a two-day field trip (sadly, not overnight) this week, plus two of my teachers are off to Washington, D.C. through Friday with the 8th grade, so this is a relaxed, hopefully homework-free week for me.

I love your comments, hint hint. Thanks again.

~Sunny

[Visitor]

I love this book!!! It is so good!!! I am so happy that Mothwing finally believes in Starclan!!! You should really think of becoming an author when you grow up Sunsetfur!!! Your writing is really good!!!

[ghostfeather]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

okay, sniff sniff, i won't, sniff sniff, kill u, sniff sniff, however much, sniff sniff, i want to. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA LOL

i suspected sum1 was gonna die when i read the title,
but i didn't think you would be EVIL enough to kill Mothwing....just jokin

anyway, i sorta can't wait for the next chapter. im actually not sure i want to find out what the "Horror" is.

post soon!

[Tigerfur]

Tigerfur: Thanks for the comments guys! ;D I hope your prepared for the next chapter! Here it is, enjoy! ;D

Sunsetfur: Many thanks to Hushpad and Tigerfur, my loyal reviewers. ;D

Chapter 3
Prophecy[/u]

devastation is painful. It is even more painful to see. I watched Willowleaf’s life shatter as Mothwing slipped away to the skies, where I knew my father dwelled. I had never met him, living nor dead, and regretted it. Hawkwing was an honorable warrior, even if he was of WindClan. No one else knew save my mother’s closest friend and Reedwhisker, who was a father to me, in a sense. Silverpool called me her Sun, and that I was to her a living shadow of Hawkwing, her beloved. devastation had changed her, and would now change Willowleaf. The former cats would be lost forever, as if they had died as well.

Mothwing’s vigil was held at moonrise that night. At dawn, her body was borne away on the shoulders of the sole elder, Mosspelt, with the help of Gorsethorn, Reedwhisker, and Barkpelt. Willowleaf had vanished into her den—“Our den,” she insisted—and had not been seen since. She had the afflicted cats to attend to, and grief had stolen away her heart and soul and taken it under the earth with Mothwing’s body, still riddled with dead fever. Mistystar had ordered the four cats who had buried the medicine cat to thoroughly wash themselves in the diminished river.

Silverpool had emerged from the medicine cats’ den several times, after various failed attempts to soothe Willowleaf. “She wants to be alone,” Silverpool told Mistystar and Lionpelt. “Give her a few days. Her heart will heal, and she will move on.”

There was a strange gleam in Silverpool’s eyes as she said this. I realized that she was echoing her own past with her words. She must have seen herself in Willowleaf: emotionally wounded after the death of one dear to her.

But Willowleaf did not heal. She remained unseen by all of RiverClan save the ill cats for the next day, and the next, and the next. Finally, after eight days of solitude, Mistystar herself marched into the medicine cat’s clearing at dusk. A small gathering of RiverClan cats had nonchalantly appeared around the medicine cat’s den, attempting to disguise their eavesdropping while sharing tongues, chatting with friends, or eating.

Silverpool was out on patrol with Reedwhisker and Smokepelt. Quietly I sat near the fresh-kill pile, chewing on a small fish. Fish were scarce and hard to catch these days: since the river had dropped dramatically, most of the fish had retreated to the deeper parts of the lake where even the best of swimmers could not reach them. Icepaw and Darkpaw were sharing tongues close to Barkpelt, Shadowflicker, and Dawninglight, who were poorly trying to act normal while straining their ears to hear Mistystar and Willowleaf. Nightshadow and Flamingfur were doing something similar several fox-lengths away.

Distracted with thoughts of the upcoming gathering, I failed to notice Gorsethorn approaching me. The light brown tom padded up from behind me and settled down on my right side, and I only noticed him when he spoke.

Starting, I heard him meow, “It’s quiet.”

“What was that for?” I spat playfully, swatting him on the cheek with my tail.

Gorsethorn stared at me calmly, his golden eyes glinting. “What was what for?”

“I didn’t even notice you,” I replied. “Ah, well. Better you than Dawninglight. She’s over there”—I indicated where the gray and black she-cat was sitting—“flirting.”

Gorsethorn laughed. “I hope it’s with Barkpelt, or Morninglight’ll have a fit.”

I observed Shadowflicker. The gray tom appeared to be ignoring Dawninglight. “He doesn’t seem to be interested in her. In fact, neither does Barkpelt. Good for him.”

Gorsethorn chuckled again. “So. How long has Mistystar been in there?”

“I don’t know. A while now.”

Gorsethorn glanced up at the sky. Night was approaching rapidly. “She’d better finish up soon. She hasn’t even chosen who’s going to the Gathering tonight, and tonight’s going to be important. RiverClan needs to know if any other Clans have this sickness, and if they know how to treat it.”

“In that case,” I responded, “Let’s hope she’s successful in cheering up Willowleaf. We’ll need her at the Gathering tonight too—Mothwing’s had a good influence on her. She can stand up for herself and has a way with words.”

The brown tabby tom nodded. “I know.”

A rustle from the medicine cat’s clearing caught my attention immediately. A flash of gray fur preceded Mistystar as she emerged from the reeds, her head high and her eyes proud. The RiverClan leader stopped at the den entrance, looking back over her shoulder. After a few heartbeats, a begraggled gray shape slowly slunk out of the ferns. The medicine cat was almost unrecognizable—her long, pale gray fur was ragged and ungroomed, her green eyes dull and lifeless. Willowleaf’s tail drooped and her ears hung loosely over her eyes.

Mistystar murmured a few words to the medicine cat before bounding over to the center of the camp. She leaped up on top of the meeting rock, called the Blackstone, and let out a yowl to gather the Clan. Warriors, queens, and elders immediately filtered out of their various dens, gathering around the Blackstone in a neat crescent.

Gorsethorn beckoned to me as he rose to his paws. I followed him as he led the way over to the Blackstone. Smokepelt waved his tail at us and we sat down on either side of him.

“How’s Silverpool?” I asked my half-brother quietly.

“She’s alright,” he replied. “Reedwhisker’s been helping her out. She misses Willowleaf and is worried about her, that’s all. She’ll be fine when Willowleaf finally returns to her normal state.”

Mistystar gave a silencing meow, and a hush fell over the crowd.

“As you all know,” the gray she-cat began, “the Gathering is tonight, as the moon is full. We will set out when this meeting is over, and I apologize for my lateness. Willowleaf will be speaking on behalf of RiverClan tonight when I have given the other Clans all our other news to address the issue of the disease. I ask all of you to not mention the illness to other Clans before we can announce it formally.

“Now—I will keep this meeting short so we can be off. I’m taking with me Lionpelt, Willowleaf, Nightshadow, Scarletfire, Reedwhisker, Ashenrain, Shadowflicker, Dawninglight, Tigerflame, Icepaw, Darkpaw, and Mosspelt.”

Mistystar dipped her head, then raised her light blue eyes to the moon, which glimmered soft and gray behind a wispy raiment of cloud. “We leave now,” she continued. “Thank you all—I bid you farewell and good night.”

The gray she-cat leaped lightly off the smoky black stone and beckoned to the chosen cats to follow her. I padded over to her quickly, waving goodbye to Gorsethorn and Smokepelt with my tail. Mistystar did not hesitate as she slipped out of the camp, followed closely by Lionpelt and Willowleaf.

---

The water had dropped. Every cat could see it. A pebbly isthmus connected the Island and the shore, covered by a thin sheet of clear water. A cat could wade across without soaking his belly fur. Many of the apprentices and elders did just that, while warriors and leaders (likely compelled by tradition and respect) chose the fallen tree route. Darkpaw and Icepaw splashed across the water happily with several ShadowClan apprentices, while Mosspelt greeted Cedarheart and Marshfur.

The Great Oak on the Island was as tall and imposing as usual, but its leaves were thin and drooping. The slightest breeze sent several spinning down to the ground, crackling and ripping as they fell. Blackstar, the eldest of the leaders, sat by the tree with Rowanclaw, conversing in low, secretive tones. Nearby was Onestar and Firestar, glancing around together with their deputies Graystripe and Whiterain.

Mistystar ran up to join them, flanked by her deputy and her medicine cat. She meowed urgently to the other three leaders, and they looked on with fresh alarm in their eyes.

“Tigerflame?” I turned swiftly to see Ashenrain behind me. The silver she-cat was my half-sister, identical in appearance to our mother Silverpool. The two had the same deep green eyes and light gray fur that seemed to glow softly by the light of the moon, stars and sun. Hers was duller, though.

“What?” I replied.

“Can I sit by you?”

“I—Of course, Ashenrain,” I meowed, confused. “You don’t have to ask. Is something wrong?”

“Well…no, not really. It’s just, well, it’s nothing.”

I watched her anxiously, saying no more. “Well…the Gathering should begin soon. Mistystar probably asked for an early start so she can discuss the illness that took Mothwing.”

“That’s what I’ve been worried about,” Ashenrain meowed suddenly. “From what you and Willowleaf have said, Mothwing wasn’t ill for very long, but she was taken very quickly. Cloudfeather’s had the disease for many sunsets, and she’s…well, you know, still alive.”

My eyes widened. I hadn’t considered that before. “You’re right,” I told her slowly. “You’re absolutely right. Wait here—no, come with me.”

I began to weave my way through the cats, ignoring calls from friends in other Clans. Willowleaf was standing with Brightfire, Amberleaf, Littlecloud, Leafpool, and Leafpool’s new apprentice Featherpaw, the daughter of Brook and Stormfur. The gray medicine cat was standing close to Littlecloud and Amberleaf.

“Willowleaf!” I called, just as another voice sounded from behind me. Firestar of ThunderClan had called for silence. Growling in annoyance, I muttered, “We’ll tell her later, Ashenrain. Come on, let’s sit down.” I led her over to a gap of space between Shadowflicker and Sorreltail of ThunderClan.

The four leaders were seated accordingly on the Great Oak, with Mistystar on the left end, then Onestar to her right, and Firestar between the WindClan leader and Blackstar. Mistystar shot a look down at Lionpelt, who inclined his head encouragingly.

With a slow, steady breath, Mistystar began. “Cats of all Clans, descendants of the four great Founders of old, I bring grave news. But I do not speak only for RiverClan, as I had expected when I first arrived, but for all of us. We are up against a terrible enemy, one who strikes unseen and without warning. We are under the threat of disease. It has already spread—it seems to have began in ThunderClan with Brambleclaw, after he ventured out with Spiderleg and Shimmerfur to drive a fox into the Wild Woods beyond their territory. It spread to WindClan, caught by the elder Webfoot, and then to RiverClan through Cloudfeather.

“I speak for all the Clans because the disease has struck RiverClan with the hardest blow. Though she was affected for only a short time, Mothwing passed on to StarClan several nights ago.”

Surprised meows of astonishment and grief sprung up from the assembled cats. Littlecloud even meowed, “No!”

Mistystar observed silently for a few moments, her head bowed. “She did not leave us in vain, however. With her parting words she uttered a prophecy to her apprentice, Willowleaf, who is now our full medicine cat after many long moons, and Tigerflame, who stood nearby:

“Seek the leaves of the Moon and the Sun, beyond the Starpath in the far Mountains. There, an ancient shadow will wake, and only the Light can break it when they have become truly one.”

Her words were met with a stunned silence. Swiftly, Willowleaf padded to the foot of the Great Oak, perched on one of the roots. The gray she-cat appeared ghostly in the dim moonlight, her unkempt fur ominous and the pain in her eyes obvious.

“She spoke of a cure,” Willowleaf meowed hesitantly, her eyes reflecting the moon and glinting with stars. “And I feel that without it, every Clan will be but a memory in a few mere moons. We must heed her words, or be destroyed by this disease.”

Murmurs greeted her words. Behind me, I heard Shadowflicker murmur to a WindClan cat, “But how?”

A flash of ginger-red fur caught my eyes as Amberleaf appeared at Willowleaf’s side. The ShadowClan she-cat’s bright, confident voice drew the attention of every cat present: “StarClan has not only spoken to RiverClan. We lost an apprentice, Larkpaw, to the Nameless Disease, and she spoke in a trance as she died. Before she slipped away to our ancestors, she spoke a prophecy:

“At the time of the Journey the Clans were one, and they shall be again, or they shall fail. Before disease takes you all, send out the Light.”

“StarClan has made themselves clear enough,” Firestar meowed from the Great Oak. “They have sent messages to two Clans, each calling for the cure. We must send out cats to find the cure, cats from all four Clans. That’s what the ‘Leaves of the Moon and Sun’ are—the cure. Mothwing’s prophecy dictates that only the Light can break some sort of ‘ancient shadow’, and Larkpaw’s prophecy states that we should send out the Light.”

“Why call it ‘the Light’, though?” Called Squirrelflight of ThunderClan. “Why not name the cats they want to go and be done with it?”

“StarClan wants us to choose,” Mistystar answered thoughtfully. “They know that we know best.”

“Well then,” Onestar put in matter-of-factly. “Who is to go?”

“Don’t be too quick about this, Onestar,” Blackstar asserted. “Each leader needs time to think before we pick out cats to send on a dangerous journey that will likely take them to the Mountains. Remember—the RiverClan prophecy mentions a ‘Starpath’ in the Mountains.”

“Well, Blackstar,” Firestar meowed. “I’ve never known you to be so…logical.”

The ShadowClan leader ignored him.

“Shouldn’t a medicine cat go?” Lionpelt suggested. “After all, it is the cure they’re looking for. At least one medicine cat should go to learn how to use it. That saves time.”

“Good thinking, Lionpelt,” Mistystar meowed, “but can anyone be spared? Willowleaf certainly can’t.”

“Nor Leafpool,” Firestar added. “Featherpaw’s a new apprentice, and can’t manage all our afflicted on her own.”

“I cannot go either,” Brightfire of WindClan called. “Or WindClan would be without a medicine cat.”

My gaze landed on Amberleaf.

“Why not Amberleaf?” Littlecloud suggested loudly from where he stood amongst the medicine cats. “She’s been my apprentice for many moons, plus she’s had warrior training. I can more than manage without her.”

The ShadowClan she-cat looked surprised, flustered, and unsure.

“I still think we’re being too hasty in these decisions,” Blackstar interrupted. “Before any sort of quest is set up, we’ll all need time to think.”

“He’s right,” called Reedwhisker. “You can’t rush into something too quickly, especially something as dangerous as a quest to the Mountains.”

“I think we should decide the basic…outlines of the quest,” Lionpelt meowed. “How many cats will go from each Clan, and where they may go.”

The four leaders exchanged glances. “That sounds reasonable,” agreed Blackstar, ruffling his pale white fur, ragged with age.

“It must be a well-sized group of cats who are to go,” Onestar put in. “A journey to the Mountains should not be considered lightly—they are perilous even in greenleaf, and snow is prominent even in this heat. I suggest two or three cats from each Clan, cats that are capable of this.”

“Three, then,” Mistystar meowed at once. “They’ll need to rely on each other out there.”

“Three from each Clan,” Firestar repeated thoughtfully. “Twelve cats. Twelve companions.”

“Yes,” Mistystar replied gravely. “We four shall meet again in two days’ time to send off these cats. It is a vital quest, for our very future may depend on it, and I am glad that we have all agreed with little argument. Bring with us the three we have selected to seek the cure.”

---

Excitement buzzed in the thick, hot air of the RiverClan camp. It was sunhigh of the second day since the Gathering, and the entire Clan speculated who Mistystar would choose to go to the Mountains. The apprentices anxiously argued with Tumblepelt and Flamingfur over who would go, while secretly wishing that they themselves would be asked to help find the cure to the Nameless Disease, which some cats now called the Burning.

Mistystar, Lionpelt, Reedwhisker, Willowleaf, and Nightshadow had hidden away in the leader’s den underneath the Blackstone. Willowleaf frequently emerged to check on the afflicted cats, usually to be delayed by swarms of cats asking about the secret meeting. The gray she-cat, Mothwing’s death still raw in her voice and eyes, hissed at them and sent many of them off to fetch feverfew and catmint from the marshes.

The ill cats were no better off than before. Cloudfeather could now barely move or speak at all, lying asleep for most of the day. Wingkit’s body temperature was horrifyingly high for such a small kit, and her pathetic mewling could be heard day and night. To make matters worse, Scarletfire broke out coughing the day after the Gathering, and hastily was given a nest in the medicine cat’s clearing. She soon fell victim to the fever, choking and spluttering all the while.

But the fourth time Willowleaf exited the den at sunset, she seemed to be in a better mood. “We’re almost done,” she told Icepaw, Streamflower, Ashenrain, and me quietly.

Indeed, when Willowleaf reentered Mistystar’s den, she remained there for only a few minutes before Mistystar herself emerged, looking tired but pleased. Lionpelt and Reedwhisker followed her swiftly, with Nightshadow and Willowleaf behind.

Mistystar took her customary position on the Blackstone and called the Clan with her yowl. There was little need, however, as most of the Clan had swarmed out of their dens to see the cats who had been at Mistystar’s meeting. I followed Ashenrain to sit beside Smokepelt and Dawninglight. Smokepelt was determinately not looking at Dawninglight, who was shooting sweet looks at Barkpelt again.

“Oh, if Morninglight knew…” I whispered to Ashenrain as I sat down. “She’d claw Dawninglight’s ears off and tell her to stop messing with her brother.”

Ashenrain purred with amusement, and her gaze quickly swiveled to the Blackstone as Mistystar began to speak.

“We have come to a decision.”

The air was tense and thin as every cat held their breath. Mistystar smiled and left her words hanging, powerfully increasing the suspense.

“All of us have agreed that we should send three cats with different strengths—preferably one excellent fighter, one excellent hunter, and one excellent tracker. All three skills are vital for this journey. After much debate, we have selected three warriors to go. Since the other Clans will likely send veterans from the Great Journey, we have decided to send three younger warriors, ones who have never been to the Mountains before. Their knowledge can be passed on to future generations as well as the present generation.”

“Get on with it!” Muttered Streamflower from somewhere to my left.

“The first cat we have chosen is an exceptional fighter, whose skill has recently developed into an invaluable skill,” the gray she-cat continued, the corners of her mouth and whiskers twitching. “Gorsethorn was the first cat we chose to go.”

The light brown warrior’s golden eyes flew wide as he rose clumsily, making his way through the crowd to stand at the foot of the Blackstone, close to Lionpelt. The deputy nodded to Gorsethorn, who shakily meowed, “Thank you, Mistystar.”

Mistystar’s blue eyes shone. “Our first choice for a tracker to go would have been Flowerpelt. As you all know, the Burning has rendered her feeble and ill, so she certainly cannot go. We have chosen Dawninglight to go in her stead.”

“What?” I hissed under my breath, watching my half-sister flounce up to stand beside Gorsethorn. Dawninglight looked extremely pleased with herself, casting a flirtatious look at Gorsethorn, who stared off into the crowd determinately. The she-cat quickly brushed her black and gray pelt with her tongue and meowed, “Thanks, Mistystar—I’ll never be as good as Flowerpelt, but I’ll do my best.”

“Why in StarClan’s name did she choose her?” I muttered to Ashenrain. “Dawninglight’s too…delicate for the Mountains, and too light-headed to consider a mission like this seriously, Ashenrain.”

Ashenrain shrugged. “Perhaps Mistystar wanted to get rid of her for a while. Probably hoped she wouldn’t survive the journey.”

I snorted. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

With a moderately loud meow, Mistystar silenced the crowd, which had broken into a series of whispers and murmurs. I watched Dawninglight for a few heartbeats, wondering how on earth Gorsethorn and the other cats would survive with her.

“The final cat has proved to be an excellent hunter, as well as a good-natured and dependable cat,” Mistystar meowed. “There are so many incredible hunters in this Clan, and we were hard-put on deciding on just one. We have chosen this cat for not only her skill, but her kindness and definite ability to hold the others together. Tigerflame shall be the third cat representing RiverClan.”

I felt my heart stand still for a fraction of a second before it burst into song. Sheer surprise, excitement, humility, and honor flooded into me as Ashenrain nudged me with her forepaw, muttering, “Go!” I stumbled to my paws and carefully made my way up to the Blackstone, where I dropped my head bashfully to Mistystar.

“Infinite thanks,” I meowed quietly. “I will do my best to become the cat you described me as.”

Mistystar bowed her head in return. “You already are, Tigerflame,” she replied. “You are more like your mother than you realize, and Reedwhisker.”

Reedwhisker… I thought. She doesn’t know about Hawkwing. And never will, I added forcefully.

“The journey will begin tomorrow at sunrise,” Mistystar continued loudly. “At dawn we will leave for the Island to meet the rest of the Clan cats who shall travel to the Mountains in accordance with the prophecy. Any cats who wish to see them off should come forward then, but I will go to the Island alone but for these three. Lionpelt will oversee the morning duties in my stead.” She turned her head slightly to face Gorsethorn, Dawninglight, and myself. “The fate of the Clans is in your paws,” she meowed. “Go with the light and speed of StarClan.”


Chapter 4: Journey will be up soon, probably by Thursday or Friday.

[ghostfeather]

YAY!!! they're going on a journey! ;D

one thing im very confused about though is that
i thought the next chapter was supposed to be called "Horror"
it didn't seem like there was much horror in that

[.Swiftclaw.]

OMG this is amazing!! I loved Gathering Darkness and I love this so far as well!! Please post soon!!!!!! ;D ;D ;D