Warriors: Calm Before the Storm

Prologue: A New Father's Thoughts

The heavy rain poured down on the lone figure of a cat as it exited FogClan territory. The dark gray and white tom blinked the rain from his amber eyes and let out a breathy sigh as he thought back to the beautiful she-cat and the three newborn kits that he was leaving behind. The she-cat had to sneak the kits- his kits- out of the nursery so that he could see them briefly and help the she-cat with naming the little mewling bundles of fur whose eyes had yet to open. It was a relief that none of the kits looked like him, as he didn't want to be identified as their father. The one tom kit in the litter of three, which had the fur color of his mother was named Foxkit by the mother after her late father Foxtooth. She also named the cream-colored tabby female kit Rosekit both after the beautiful, fragrant-smelling flower that grew only in the gardens that surrounded some two-leg dens and after a tradition from within the kit's mother's family. It was a tradition in the mother's family for the first born kit in each generation within the family to have part of its name be either 'Rose', 'Flower', or 'Petal' if the kit was a female or 'Thorn', 'Thistle', or 'Briar' if the kit was male.

The large, amber-eyed male took it upon himself to name the largest kit of the litter; a white and gray patched tabby. He decided to christen her as Nightkit. The name was to serve as a symbol for this very night; the stormy night that the male met his kits for the first and perhaps the only time in his life. He hated having to leave the beautiful she-cat and the kits that they shared behind, but he hated clan life more than he loved the she-cat and their- his- kits. She had begged him to stay with the promise that her leader would accept him into the clan and give him a Warrior name of his own. She wanted the five of them to be a proper family.

The lone tom snorted and flattened his ears to his head as he walked. He didn't want a Warrior name or to train a younger cat with whom he had no relation! He didn't want to be told what to do and when to do it by some cat who had been approved by a bunch of invisible cats in the sky! He liked to do things on his own time. He wanted to hunt for himself and only himself.

A loud crash of thunder sounded overhead and the lone tom cat turned his face to the cloud-laden sky as a bright flash of lightning soon followed, which bathed the tom and his surroundings in bright, white light for the briefest amount of time. Before the second rumble of thunder rattled his eardrums, a silky feminine voice reached his ears: "Just as every rose has its thorn and every dog has its day, every cat must pay. Thunder storms will give way to fire and frost in a sea of salt while a thorn in the path will seek to destroy all that is held dear."

The tom paused and tasted the air for any sign of a cat that may be around him and flicked his tail in irritation when all he could pick up was wet earth. His ears flicked this way and that as he sought to pick out any sound aside from the pitter patter of the rapidly falling rain or the occasional rumble of thunder from up above. Nothing. Perhaps I just imagined it. The tom thought as he continued to rapidly put as much distance as possible between himself and the she-cat and kits that he was leaving behind before he was discovered by one or more of the she-cat's clan mates.

"Just as every rose has its thorn and every dog has its day, every cat must pay. Thunder storms will give way to fire and frost in a sea of salt, while a thorn in the path will seek to destroy all that is held dear." The tom paused again and let out a low hiss as the voice once more reached his ears.

"Enough!" He yowled as his luminous amber eyes frantically scanned the forest around him. "Quit playing games like a coward and show yourself, flea pelt!"

Just as before, nothing but the sound of rain, wind, and thunder answered him. The tom decided to distract himself from the odd voice with the thought of those kits. Something seemed... special about them; especially when it came to Nightkit and Foxkit. If the tom ever did cross paths with one of them in the future and they wanted to leave the clan and join him, he would gladly permit them to do so. The very same couldn't be said for their sister Rosekit, however.

His feelings about Rosekit were a little less... warm. When he had first set his eyes on Rosekit's pale tabby fur, he was filled with such hatred for not only the kit herself, but for the other two kits who squirmed and mewled pitifully out in the cold, wet forest beside her, as well as the dark ginger and white she-cat that had brought them all into the world the previous day. There was something about Rosekit that rubbed the tom's short storm gray and white fur the wrong way and made an unsolicited hiss slip out into the air from within him, though he didn't know what it was. As for Rosekit's siblings, the sight of them had filled him with pride and love as any father would feel when he gazed at his kits for the first time. As far as the lone tom was concerned, he only had two kits instead of three.

"Just as every rose has its thorn and every dog has its day, every cat must pay. Thunder storms will give way to fire and frost in a sea of salt, while a thorn in the path will seek to destroy all that is held dear." A furious screech left the tom's lungs and he unsheathed his claws in preparation for battle.

"Stop this nonsense!" He screeched into the stormy night as his narrowed eyes cased the surrounding forest once more as he searched the shadows for anything that would give away a hiding cat's location. "You're crow food when I find you!"

"Violence is never the answer, but it will be for one. Every rose has its thorn." The voice replied.

Now, curiosity had replaced the tom's initial rage towards the voice and the presumed hidden cat that it belonged to.

"What are you talking about? Answer me!"

Much to the tom's dismay, only the sounds of the forest and the raging storm answered him.