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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⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱
AS THE WARRIORS den grew lighter, Willowpelt woke up. Whiterose watched as the pale grey she-cat rose and stretched, then pushed her way out of the den. Whiterose yawned and spotted her mate, Tigerclaw, from the corner of her eye. He was still sleeping.
Whiterose pushed herself to her paws and she instantly felt drained. Her three legs wobbled, and she almost toppled over. Her bones ached like they have been bent for over a moon. Stretching a little, her stomach convulsed sharply, with a flinch she glanced once more at Tigerclaw before pushing her way out of the den.
Her green eyes adjusted to the snowbound camp, sweeping across the clearing. With prickled paws she headed to the medicine cats den, but stopped in her tracks thinking.
Redstream and Yellowfang must still be asleep, they worked really hard, I'll come back later, she thought. She turned her paws away, and decided to head to the fresh-kill pile. Upon arriving she found Brindleface awake and active choosing her own meal.
"Brindleface!" Whiterose purred tiredly, the pretty tabby blinked back warmly.
"Whiterose, how are you this morning?" Brindleface asked warmly, choosing a magpie from the pile. Whiterose couldn't find within herself to say she was fine, not when Brindleface was there with an open ear.
"Truth be told I been restless lately, I've been achy, and my stomach feels like there are a bunch of butterflies flying around..." Whiterose sighed as she trailed off.
Brindleface blinked back, a contemplative look on her face. Brindleface seemed to examine her with such intense green eyes that Whiterose had to turn away.
A rustling noise accompanied the scent of Tigerclaw and Runningwind as they emerged from the den. They settled themselves beside Willowpelt to wash.
Ready for the dawn patrol, Whiterose thought. Tigerclaw eventually looked up from his washing, his amber eyes lit with question, as if to ask if she would join them on a patrol this morning. As she was about to get up to join them, Tigerclaw suddenly lifted his head as though he had smelled something.
Whiterose tensed. Her ears twitching-she could hear paws crunching through the snow in the distance, moving fast. The breeze carried the scent of WindClan. The pawsteps grew louder. At once, the warriors in camp stiffened – a cat was rushing toward them through the gorse tunnel.
Tigerclaw arched his back and hissed as Onewhisker burst the clearing.
The WindClan warrior skidded to a halt in front of them, his eyes filled with dread. "ShadowClan and RiverClan!" he gasped. "They're attacking our camp! We're outnumbered and fighting for our lives. Tallstar refuses to be driven off this time. You must help or my Clan will be wiped out!"
