For generations, four clans have shared the forest. But ThunderClan is in severe peril, and the other three Clans grow stronger every day. In the midst of this turmoil, appears two house-cat's named Rusty and Star... who both may turn out to be the...
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⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱
WHITEROSE WOKE THE following morning to find dazzling white light streaming through the den wall. She guessed it had snowed again. At least her wounds had stopped aching, and her stomach pains had subsided. Flickering her eyes over beside her, she found Tigerclaw was once again gone, but it was resent seeing as the place beside her was still warm.
Whiterose wondered how Sandstorm and Dustpelt had managed their vigil. It must have been bitterly cold in the snow.
She got to her paws and stretched her forelegs, arching her back and curling her tail above her rump. ThunderClan's two newest warriors were bundled up, fast asleep on the far edge of the den. Whitestorm must have sent them in when he left on the dawn patrol.
Whiterose padded out into the snow-covered clearing. She could just make out Frostfur's white pelt skirting the nursery as she slipped out to stretch her legs. There were two bare spots in the centre of the clearing, where Sandstorm and Dustpelt spent the night. Whiterose shivered at the thought, but still she envied them as she remembered the thrill of her first night as a warrior. It had filled her with a warmth not even the hardest frost could have chilled.
The sky was thick with snow-heavy clouds. Flakes were still falling, softly and silently. There would be plenty of hunting to do today, Whiterose realized. The Clan would need to stock up if the snow were going to get deeper. Maybe that's why she couldn't see Fireheart anywhere.
She heard Bluestar call from the Highrock. The Clan began to creep from their dens and pick their way through the snow to hear their leader's words. Fireheart settled herself into one of the bare spots. It smelled of Sandstorm.
She noticed Graystripe sitting on the other side of the clearing, looking tired. Fireheart wondered if he'd slipped out last night to tell Silverstream about the rogue cats.
Bluestar began to speak. "I wanted to make sure you all know that Brokentail is in the camp." None of the cats uttered a noise. They knew already. The rumour had spread through the camp like a forest fire.
"He is blind, and harmless." A few cats snorted their displeasure, and Bluestar nodded to acknowledge their fears. "I am as concerned as you are for the safety of our Clan. But, StarClan knows, we cannot turn him out to die in the forest. Yellowfang will nurse him until his wounds heal. Once they have, we'll discuss this again."
Bluestar looked around, listening for voices from the crowd, but no cat spoke, so she leaped down from Highrock. As the cats dispersed Whiterose noticed that the leader was walking toward her.
"Whiterose," she meowed. "One thing concerns me. You and Fireheart still haven't settled things with Graystripe. I've not seen you eat together in days. There's no room for fighting within ThunderClan. I want you to hunt together today."
