Warriors: Mosspath's Choice (REWRITTEN)

Prologue

Shadestripe padded down to the Moonstream to meet with the other medicine cats. It was half-moon and the wind blew gently around her, ruffling her soft neck fur. The Moonstream gurgled and bubbled nearby, echoing as the water fell from ledges hidden in the stream.

She was the first cat to arrive and waited patiently for the others. The ferns rustled as the arriving cats brushed their pelts against the strong scented leaves. Shadestripe parted her jaws to taste the scents among the dripping fronds; Willowpelt and a nervous small gray cat were the first to emerge out of the damp, sweet smelling plants that splashed water on them, along with Dusklight panting after them.

"Why didn't you wait for us at the border?" Dusklight complained as he emerged out of the undergrowth, rasping his tongue over his ruffled pelt from the thorns of the bramble thicket, along with the addition of the wet ferns.

"Sorry, I was in a hurry today," Shadestripe admitted, licking her tongue over her long feathery tail.

Willowpelt's gaze softened as she shook water from her pelt, spraying the other cats and flashing an apologetic look. "What happened?" Her sympathetic tone seemed to persuade Shadestripe to keep going.

"Silverheart's kitting began a moon earlier than expected," Shadestripe began, one paw in mid air over her white-tipped ear as she thought back to the kitting. "But she's fine now with three she-kits. I wanted to get here early tonight."

The medicine cats' gazes softened as they heard about the kitting. "I heard she was expecting from the last gathering," Willowpelt commented, her white tipped tail whipping up leaves from the leafy forest floor.

The smaller gray cat piped up. "She looked like she was about two moons expecting at the last gathering."

"Looks like you learn a lot, Mintpaw," Willowpelt praised her apprentice, while Mintpaw ducked her head and shuffled her paws, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Quit gossiping and let's get on," Dusklight's gruff mew interrupted their conversation. "We're wasting moonlight."

The moon floated high in the sky as the cats reached the stream. Mintpaw stared in delight at the silver stream pouring down the rock in front of her, the bubbling Moonstream full of starlight.

"It's so beautiful!" she whispered.

Shadestripe took the lead down the dimpled path to the waterside. Willowpelt followed with Mintpaw and Dusklight brought up the rear.

Beside the stream, Willowpelt faced her apprentice. "Mintpaw," she meowed, her mew echoing among the hollow surrounding them. "Is it your wish to enter into the mysteries of StarClan as a medicine cat?"

Mintpaw's gray fur, turned silver by the moonlight, was fluffed out in excitement, all her earlier nervousness gone, and she held her tail high. Her eyes were shining with awe as she answer solemnly. "It is."

"Then come forward."

Mintpaw padded up to her until both cats stood at the bank of the stream. Willowpelt lifted her head to gaze at Silverpelt as she mewed the last words of ceremony with pride.

"Warriors of StarClan, I present to you this apprentice. She has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant her your wisdom and insight so that she may understand your ways and heal her clan accordance to your will."

Willowpelt waved her tail at Mintpaw. "Crouch down and drink from the stream."

Blinking, Mintpaw obeyed her. Her mentor and the other medicine cats took their places on the edge of the stream, and stretched out to lap a few droplets of silvery water.

To Shadestripe, it tasted like liquid starshine, icy cold, piercing her to the bone. As the drops touched her tongue, she sank into darkness; for a few heartbeats she seemed to float into nothingness.

Shadestripe opened her eyes to see sunlight streaming down on StarClan's hunting grounds. It was always green-leaf here, the leaves full of light and lush among the branches. She waited expectantly for a StarClan cat to appear through the leaf-green woods that surrounded the meadow. Clumps of herbs grew around the meadow, their musty scent tickling her nostrils.

A flicker of reddish fur appeared at the edge of her vision. It was a squirrel scurrying up a tree with a cat waiting at the truck below. It was the former FireClan leader before Blazestar, Rainstar. Leaves showered down the tree as the squirrel chittered angrily from a branch above. Rainstar's tail swished among the dry leaves below in frustration.

Rainstar caught sight of Shadestripe waiting patiently in the meadow. Ignoring the squirrel's ruckus above with great dignity, she beckoned Shadestripe over to the forest.

"Greetings, Rainstar." Shadestripe dipped her head respectfully to the older FireClan leader. "What brings you here?"

"It's half-moon," Rainstar mewed sarcastically. "Doesn't StarClan usually visit medicine cats at the Moonstream at half-moon?"

Shadestripe rolled her eyes. "Of course, but what are you doing in the forest." She waved her tail at the squirrel above, who had turned its back on the two cats, scrambling down the wood and leaping to a neighboring branch, pausing to angrily scold Rainstar for disturbing it.

"Hunting." Rainstar looked up remorsefully at the fluffy creature sitting on the branches, resuming to leaping from the treetops. "And not succeeding."

"So I see," Shadestripe meowed. "Do you have something to say to me?"

Rainstar's sparkling blue eyes turned to a grave look. "Yes, in fact I do. Take heed of what I will say."

"Soon, there'll be a tragedy, one greater than any disaster you have ever faced." She paused, looking around the shadows of the trees before continuing. Shadestripe curled her claws into the ground, shredding apart the roots of grass in her anticipation. "When storm clouds cover the sun, the dying flames will scatter to the raining skies."

Shadestripe stood in shock as Rainstar mewed the last words of the prophecy. A cold, chilling wind blew from the north, scattering the leaves from the treetops. They whirled about in a tempest, blown to bits by the raging winds. The wind buffeted her fur and Shadestripe screwed up her eyes to avoid getting hit by leaf bits thrown at her.

The grass of the meadow was silver in the wind, waving their rippling stems green and white under the power of the gale. Clouds covered the sun, turning the once sunshine into a gloomy gray, until no light shone at all in the forest.

As Shadestripe fell into darkness, the faintest wisp of a familiar scent floated around her. The face of her former mentor, Fernleaf, faded in her mind that was slowly giving in to unconsciousness.

"I'm so sorry," Fernleaf whisper, her fern-green eyes glowing her Shadestripe's mind. It was the last thing she saw before she sank into unconsciousness.

"It's... not... your... fault..." Shadestripe breathed out as Fernleaf disappeared, leaving a void of emptiness. Green eyes shone in the darkness before it overtook her and StarClan's hunting grounds disappeared.