StarClan's Will - A Warriors Story

Prologue

Prologue

  To the right, brooks and streams bubbled merrily, meandering through lush valleys and green meadows, through majestic gorges and peaceful little forests. And to the left, twisted trees with deadened boughs loomed overhead, the overlapping branches preventing any sunlight from entering, casting the forest into eternal gloom.

  A half-transparent, grey-furred she-cat appeared from the right, her whiskers twitching anxiously as she padded hesitantly from the lush clearing to the shadowy forest. Her blue eyes darted around, her fur bristling and muscles tensed, obviously anticipating an attack.

  Deeper she headed, occasionally peeking backwards to see if anyone was following her. By now, her eyes were wide with fear and she was visibly trembling.

  "Trespasser."

  The snarl came from all sides as growling, hostile cats emerged from the shadows, surrounding the grey she-cat.

  The she-cat cowered back, frightened and trapped with nowhere to go. "P – please, I came to bargain. I'm – I'm not looking for a fight."

  "Us Dark Forest cats don't do bargains," hissed a ragged black she-cat, her eyes crazed and bloodthirsty. "You should know that, precious Dovewing." She turned to the white tom next to her. "Kill her."

  "Wait!" Dovewing cried, desperation in her eyes. "You will be interested to know what bargain I have to offer."

  The white tom looked uncertainly at the black she-cat, and she looked intrigued, but wary. "Hold it," she commanded the tom. "Let's all hear what our precious Dovewing has to say."

  Dovewing took a breath and looked the black she-cat straight in the eye. "I know what you have been planning," she meowed. "And I know you want the kit to join your ranks. Your side of the bargain is to not interfere with the kit's life."

  The black she-cat slunk forward. "And what would you offer in return?"

  "I offer a prophecy only I have received and none of the StarClan cats know yet. I can tell you what the prophecy says, if you swear by Silverpelt to not interfere."

  The black she-cat stared at Dovewing for a heartbeat. "You're being serious?" she looked rather stunned. "You think we actually care about your stupid prophecies?"

  Dovewing blanched. "Do you swear by Silverpelt or not?"

  The black she-cat started laughing a horrible, raspy laugh. She prowled forward to stare Dovewing in the eye.

  "No, my dear. We will make sure the kit joins us. And when she does, she will be a great asset."

  She turned to the white tom.

  "Kill her."

  The white tom pounced at Dovewing, who let out a shriek and fought back, paws flailing wildly - she had never been an adequate fighter. Soon, the tom had her pinned and without any hesitation, the tom's claws ripped through her throat.

  Dovewing was dead, and she had failed in her task.