Prologue

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Graystar sniffed the air tentatively, the fur along the back of her neck prickling. An acrid tang hung thickly in the air, cloying her senses, and the she-cat licked her whiskers, trying to identify the scent. All of her instincts seemed to be warning her of a danger she could not identify.

She took another hesitant pawstep, and felt her toes spread and sink into the damp ground. It took her a moment to realize the implications of this. It had not rained recently, and the night's dew had long since been burned away by the morning sun. So why was the dirt so soft? The leader lifted her paw and gave her pad a sniff.

Shock filled her entire body like lightning and her amber eyes widened as she realized, finally, what the acrid scent was.

Blood.

The grass around her was slick with it, now that she took a good look. With mounting horror and revulsion Graystar saw the claw marks raked into the ground and the tufts of fur dyed crimson scattered around the scene.

Something, or someone, had been killed here.

Graystar let out a wail; it rose above the trees, filled with despair. Moments later, lithe shapes emerged from the forest around her. The leader recognized the pelts of her clanmates as they milled around the scene, recognizing much faster than her the signs of a struggle. The warriors dispersed quickly, not needing orders to go on the search.

Graystar stood frozen, staring at the scarlet liquid staining the fur of her paw.

"Over here," a voice called out. Graystar reluctantly turned and moved towards the voice, unwilling to come face to face with what she knew she was about to see.

She wasn't wrong, but it still shocked her to see the body lying there, dark gray fur dyed darker with the blood that was blossoming over the skin. Tears filled the leader's eyes. It was Mallowheart, Graystar's grandmother and the clan's only elder.

"Graystar," said someone at her shoulder, and the named cat looked over to recognize her deputy Morningrose. She nodded stiffly, signalling for the deputy to speak.

"There are no scents of foxes, or any other predator," Morningrose reported. "Nor rogue scents."

Graystar bowed her head in understanding, but her deputy carried on anyway.

"Mallowheart was killed by someone from our clan." 

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