Chapter Seven

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      Snowpaw felt worry and confusion sweep over her as Frostpaw stood rigidly, muttering the ominous words of the prophecy under her breath. "Blood must flood the Clans during the tragedy of war to stop inevitable destruction."

      "I don't get it." Snowpaw blurted. "What does it mean? How will blood stop our demise? Surely blood is a bad thing! Will someone have to sacrifice themselves to bring peace?"

     Storm gazed down at his daughter with a mixture of fondness and sorrow in his mismatched eyes. "Snow- I mean Snowpaw, if I told you everything you wouldn't learn. You must figure this out on your own. The sake of you and your Clans depend on it. "

      The green eyed apprentice could tell that her father was preparing for his departure, but Frozenpaw cut off any final words. "What about me? You said you were going to explain what my role is with the prophecy."

      "Oh yes, I almost forgot." The bicolor tom stated, slightly embarrassed. "You're quiet and peaceful demeanor will be an essential part of the solution to the dilemma. All of you must work together to unite the Clans against these rogues."

      "But ThornClan and FoxClan are fighting!" Icepaw protested with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "How are we supposed to get our leaders to become allies when we're constantly quarreling over stolen prey?"

      Storm didn't reply. Instead he gazed behind the four young cats with a blend of shock and concern etched in his expression. Snowpaw whipped around, expecting to see something horrible. Indeed, she saw a small stream that had flowed behind them turn to blood as it slowly swelled over it's banks.

      The white she-cat tried to run, to get out of there as fast as possible and never look back. But her paws were frozen to the ground, leaving her stiff and unable to move. She opened her jaws to hiss, yowl, growl, or do something, but no sound came out.

      The sticky crimson liquid crept up to her unsheathed claws, then washed up against her fur, staining it red. "Have faith, my kits." Storm's echoing voice boomed from behind. "You know what to do. Hopefully we'll speak again soon."

      I sure hope the concluding circumstances of that future conversation are different. Snowpaw thought sarcastically, still struggling in vain to move away from the flowing blood.

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      Snowpaw couldn't remember ever being so relieved for a dream to end. Her heart was thumping wildly as the bloodied StarClan forest faded away into nothingness. She rose her head and blinked blearily at the other apprentices that were staring at her.

      Koipaw, whose father was the deputy and therefore always assumed he could say and get away with everything, snickered. "Some dream you were having, rogue. What happened, a mouse bite back when you tried to pounce?"

      Snowpaw sat for a few moments, trying to come up with a good comeback. Icepaw always seemed to have a sharp and witty reply, what would he say? She noticed specifically how weird it still was to think about her siblings.

      After another moment of contemplating, she responded with a grin. "At least my dreams involve me hunting and contributing to the Clan. I bet all you think about at night is what she-cat you're going to pad after next."

      What she said was the truth; Koipaw was well known for being flirtatious toward any female willing to walk within three tail-lengths of him. The other apprentices scoffed not-so-subtly while the tortoiseshell tom glared angrily.

      Snowpaw spoke again, this time the insult going much lower than the previous one. "I'll have you know that you should just give up now. Tortoiseshell toms are sterile and everyone is aware."

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