#completed, but is still being edited#
This story takes place far away in the Tribe Of Rushing Water after warrior clans have been almost forgotten to the mountains but does warrior blood flow in the Tribe? It all changes once the StoneTeller gets a...
The eagle swooped down. So close flame could hear it's powerful wings. She and Pool screamed as it dived for a kit. Stone squealed as the eagle gripped him in its powerful talons. Pool jumped up and clung onto the eagle's wing for a second before falling to the ground. The eagle flew towards the cave entrance. Blood dripping from the poor defenseless kit. It flew out of the cave with many cats following it. The kits screams were gently dying away as the eagle flew higher into the sky. In a few moments it was gone. Flame looked back to her mother. Her beautiful Gray palt was stained with Scarlet drops of blood from her kit.
Flame ran over and wrapped herself around her. Sobbing with her mother. A few cats joined in comforting Pool. A group of cats, including pebble, walked in from a hunting patrol. Pebble didn't seem distracted as she smelled the blood. Then she realized they were carrying the dead eagle, still with the kit in its talons. She set it gently on the ground then ran over to Flame and her mother. She joined the pity party. StoneTeller walked out of his den. Picked up the dead kit and rubbed herbs on its body. Even from far away Flame could smell the sweetness of the herbs.
She broke away from the group of cats and begun grooming her dead brother. Other cats joined in the death ritual to guide the kit on his way out of the cave. After a while all the cats except Pool, Pebble, Flame, and Night went to their dens. The four cats stayed by the kit all night. Barely sleeping. Flame woke up in a nightmare of the kits death and looked around. She suddenly saw a small image of a gray cat standing were the waterfall would be. When she blinked it was gone, but she knew it was Stone that was looking at her. Right next to him another, older gray Tom joined him.
