Rock Pocket

Prolouge

The sound of rain hitting the stone set the mood for the current gloomy circumstance going on underneath the dirt surface. The sky was dark, the typical moon and stars that usually were bright outside, were nonexistent. Dark, grey, stormy clouds filled the air instead. Beneath the surface of the ground, a grey rodent curled up on the moist ground, though he would die here, it would not be his final resting place. The mouse den occupied the old mouse, and his family, an old female and three sons. In the presence of those he called family, the mouse felt at peace with what he had done with his life.
"The great whites call me to their home.. Pebbles, my son..."
His voice was raspy and sounded sick as he called out for his eldest son, his weak and frail body stretching out as his brown colored son raced towards him. His caramel fur and the white spot on his forehead were so iconic to the Rock Pocket tribes. That same face would lead the entire tribe in just a few hours. Pebbles pushed his nose against his father's side, causing a distressed and pained sound to come from his father. The sick and dying mouse nuzzling his son anyway.
"I, Boulder of the Rock Pocket tribe, protector of those whom give us food and water, present the title of Leader to my eldest son, Pebbles."
Boulder had caught a severe sickness in his old age, even now he heard the white mice who watched them, call out to him in his last moments. Boulder could not let the mice who proudly called themselves a member of the Rock Pockets to be leaderless, even if his son was nowhere near ready to lead. Pebbles knew of the virtues that the Rock Pockets held onto so closely, of their ideals of safety for those that aided them. Pebbles was too young to take them into action, but there was no more time for preparing. Conflict was the one thing the Rock Pockets wanted to prevent, but now it was on the horizon.

"Take lead of our people, do not fear for what may come. Do not fear for our people, keep our peace."  Boulder let out a breath as he moved his gaze towards his love, the brown mouse who loved him enough to bare his children who would lead the tribe. She lead alongside him for years. It was her job to lead Pebbles until he was ready.
"Watch him until he is wise in the world, I love you my dear." Boulder watched the light fade from the room, his vision becoming black as he faded from the living, the last sound he heard was the screaming from his wife. Suddenly he felt a tapping on his shoulder. A voice that greeted him into the afterlife.
"I am Iron, the oldest remembered leader of the Rock Pockets, welcome Boulder."
The mouse looked like he was strong,his ears were small, almost like he didn't have them, his tail was thick and burly yet torn badly at the tip.
"Boulder, you must remain silent, the living mourn for you now, you must mourn for them. The great white mice will welcome you once your body is moved over to the den that they keep the deceased." Iron spoke as if he tried to comfort Boulder, however Boulder still felt the sting of death, he felt cold, and lonely.
"How will I-" Boulder was silenced by Iron lifting his front left paw and placing it on Boulder's muzzle.
"They will know, for now, it's silence"

Boulder and Iron both sat on the ground of the dank and bleak cave that reeked of death. It was the leader's den, where he and those in his bloodline slept, the living traces from where his family had been had faded, this was a place of the afterworld. The two were silent, no words exchanged until Iron spoke once again.
"You were wise to give that son of yours that advice you know."
Boulder wanted to talk and ask why, but he knew the silent vigil that Iron demanded of him.
"Rock, Wood and Field, the protectors of each of the tribes have been arguing. Wood claims Field and her clan hog all the food while Field states that her mice are becoming dehydrated because Wood and her people haven't been providing enough water. Rock was caught between them both sadly, and we are afraid Wood will strike Field where she can not protect. There may be war during your son's leadership, and we need someone who can uphold our traditions."
Boulder became worried at his company's words. Pebbles, despite being very bright, was foolish and young. He was more interested in enjoying being a child than leading their tribe. How could such a young foolish mouse lead the Rock Pockets?
"Worried, Boulder?" Iron had asked, actual worry in his tone. Boulder nodded as Iron looked back in the cave.
"I am too. No matter what happens, Pebbles will definitely be a legend like that if the White Mice."
Iron's words settled uncomfortably in Boulder's mind, hopefully the young foolish mouse would lead their future well.