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PrologueThe she-cat was hidden beneath the berry bush. At least, she hoped she was hidden. She had wandered into this area a day ago. The scent of cats was everywhere, but so far no cat had spotted her. It was dusk, which was one of the she-cat’s least favorite times, because the day was ending, and she had to stop exploring the great big world in front of her and find a place to sleep. Well, it used to be one of her least favorite times of the day. Now she was tired all the time, and she longed for sleep and rest. The unborn kits in her stomach seemed to weigh her down, and they took so much energy out of her. She hoped they would come soon, so she could feel like herself again, but she also feared what would happen if she wasn’t in a safe place when they came. Images of snarling foxes, hissing cats, and barking dogs came to mind. She shoved those thoughts away. She couldn’t afford to be focused on anything but the sounds around her right now.A battle was going on. Angry hisses and pained yowls echoed around her, along with the sounds of sharp claws tearing flesh and fur. She didn’t know who these cats were, but they were clearly angry and dangerous, and she didn’t know what they would do to a weakened she-cat in their state of rage.Suddenly a mournful yowl rose from somewhere way too close for comfort. “Greyheart! No!” The cat who had yowled let out a hiss. “You’ll pay for that!”Sounds of angry snarls arose from them, and the she-cat decided that she had to move. They sounded like they were just on the other side of the bush she was hiding in. The she-cat crept as quietly as she could from the bush, trying to get into a clump of bramble bushes. The brambles would hurt, but they would conceal her, and no cat would try to break into the bush. Just before she made it, she felt sharp claws snag her tail. She spun around, facing the gray tabby she-cat who had clawed her. The she-cat’s face was full of anger, and her teeth were bared. But as she took in the look on the pregnant, fearful queen’s face, she paused. “You aren’t one of those FierceClan mangepelts!” She exclaimed.The queen shook her head vehemently. “N-no, I'm not. I'm just passing through, and I was just trying to find a safe place to hide.” The queen looked at the gray she-cat truly for a moment. She was younger than the queen by several moons, still a young adult, although she looked quite serious and sad, not at all carefree like the queen had been at that age.“Oh, you poor thing.” The gray tabby mewed sympathetically. “Terrible luck, getting caught on our territory in the middle of a battle. My clan is usually… well, less violent.” She swept her tail in an arc around them, indicating the bloody chaos on all sides and the yowls echoing through the trees. “I can’t stay away from the battle long, but my Clan is kind to loners like you. I’ll take you back to camp, you can leave when the battle is over.”The queen blinked. She had expected to be clawed to shreds, not invited back to their camp. She was highly suspicious of this easy offer, but she knew it was probably more dangerous to stay out in a battlefield. She gave a small, grateful nod of acceptance, and without further discussion, she turned and led the queen through the forest at a quick pace, clearly eager to get back to the battle.The queen peered over at the young cat. “So, do you live with your family, or…?”Without turning around, the she-cat spoke. “Well, sort of. We live in what we call a Clan. We are one of 4 Clans in this area. A Clan is a group of cats who live together, take care of each other, and are loyal to their Clan.” The queen panted as the she-cat picked up the pace, climbing up a small slope. “My Clan in RoseClan, and right now we are fighting FierceClan.” The she-cat’s voice shook with anger as she spat FierceClan’s name. “One of their warriors just killed my older sister, Grayheart.”The queen let out a small gasp. “I… I'm so sorry.”The she-cat let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, death is something we are far too used to around here.”The queen had a billion more questions swirling around in her head, but they had reached the camp; a large dip in the ground, sheltered by a wall of thick bushes. A older gray tabby tom with a white face and muzzle bristled before recognizing the young she-cat.”Quietjump, what is—“He was cut off by the she-cat—Quietjump—running towards him to bury her muzzle in his chest. “Father, I'm so sorry.” She sobbed, her words muffled by his fur. “Me and Lightningdawn couldn’t save her.”The tom looked confused, and some of the other cats were looking over with curiosity and worry etched on their faces. “Honey, what are you talking about?”The words came, loud in the silence of the camp, of all the cats holding their breath, wondering who had died now.“Grayheart’s dead.”“What?” An elderly, pale gray she-cat rushed across the camp, breaking from her huddle of elderly cats sheltering under a bush.“Mom!” Quietjump sobbed. The elderly she-cat joined her family, United together for a moment in their grief. Across the camp, the rest of the cats dipped their heads in silent respect for the fallen she-cat. After a moment, Quietjump pulled away from her parents. “I have to get back there.” She mewed softly. “They need my help.”Her father nodded. “Go.” Her mother touched her nose to Quietjump’s. “Be careful”. She nodded. “I will.”She left the camp.It was then when the queen’s presence was noticed. A young dark ginger tabby she-cat bristled. “Who’s she?” She spat. The rest of the cats in the clearing—all elderly except for the ginger tabby and Quietjump’s father— looked up at her.“I’m sorry,” She began nervously. “Quietjump brought me here. I was caught in the middle of the battle. She said it would be safe.”Quietjump’s father looked at her, his eyes dull with grief, clearly not caring whether she stayed or went. “Yes. You can stay here until the battle is over. I’m Cloverfish. I need to go speak with Egretshade.” The tom disappeared into a nearby den. His mate stayed out in the open. She stared down at her paws for a moment, and then turned around and walked into a different den.The queen was unsure of what she was supposed to do. No one seemed to care about what she did, although a few of them gave her curious sideways glances. She sat down at the edge of the clearing and curled her tail around her protruding stomach, and waited for the yowls of pain and rage to fall silent.She woke up a little while later. The sky had darkened as dusk slipped into night. Cats were coming into the clearing, led by an elderly black tabby she cat. She was older than any cat the queen had seen so far, yet her eyes gleamed with a steely strength and determination, and she walked with the walk of a confident cat who knew she was the boss. The queen knew instantly that she was the leader of these strange cats. Many more cats followed her into the clearing, all of them bearing marks of the battle they had just left. In the back of the group, a slender gray tabby body was draped over the shoulders of a pair of toms. The golden tabby one looked as if he wanted to shred everyone and everything in sight, while the scarred brown tabby one looked like he was in shock. They slid her body to the ground, and Cloverfish and his mate walked up and began to groom their daughter’s pelt mournfully.The leader of the cats leaped onto a small hill that made her taller than the cats surrounding her. She opened her jaws and gave a commanding yowl. All the cats in the clearing turned attentively towards her. She opened her jaws as if to speak, before her eyes caught sight of the queen sitting in the corner. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my camp?” She hissed, her fur bristling. The rest of the cats who had just returned from battle reacted similarly, turning towards her with bared teeth and raised fur. A voice spoke up from the crowd. “I brought her here.” The sea of cats parted to allow Quietjump to walk before her leader. “She is with kits. She was in the middle of the battle, just trying to escape. I brought her here, and allowed her to shelter until the battle was over.”The queen dipped her head. “I can go now. Thank you for your kindness.” She turned to leave.“Wait!” The leader’s voice rang out. She leaped from her hill and padded forward until she was face to face with the queen. In spite of her age, she radiated power, and the queen couldn’t help but cower a bit in front of the imposing she-cat. “What is your name?”The queen hesitated. “I… I don’t know. I’m sure I had a name once. But my parents died when I was very young, and for as long as I can remember, I never had a name.”“Hmmm.” The leader narrowed her eyes. “Well, I'm sure we can remedy that. That is, if you choose to stay with us.”“What?”“We haven’t had any kits in the nursery for many moons, and FierceClan outnumbers us. We could use some fresh blood. And we have taken in loners before, and made them important parts of our Clan.” She gestured at a few cats in the crowd.“Sunstar!” The golden tabby tom who had carried Grayheart’s body stepped forward. “We don’t even know this cat! She could be dangerous!”“Lightningdawn, I’m not exactly in a good mood right now. This Clan needs more warriors, and no one seems to want to have kits anytime soon. This she-cat shall solve our problem by providing us with more warriors, in exchange, of course, for the protection of the clan for her and her kits, as well as a permanent place her as a warrior, if she chooses it.”The queen hesitated. This all seemed to be happening awfully fast. But… she couldn’t live like this anymore, constantly running and hiding. And it wasn’t the life she wanted her kits to be living either. This Clan was clearly successful. Every cat here was far better fed than her. They would keep her kits safe.She bowed her head. “I would be honored.”“Excellent.” Sunstar smiled with all her teeth. “Welcome to RoseClan, Peakmist.”
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“Ouch!”Mosskit awoke to find a heavy brown paw on her ear.“Sorry!”Her brother hurriedly pulled his galumphing paws of her ear. Mosskit tried to remember what she had been dreaming about, but it was like trying to trap mist in her paws. She glared at Timberkit. “It’s so early! Why are you up already?” The sun was just peaking over the treetops, and from the murmur of low voices outside the nursery, the dawn patrol was only just leaving.“I wanted to explore!” Timberkit mewed, his yellow eyes glowing. “You know mom never lets us do anything fun, and she always wants us right next to her at all times.” He rolled his eyes.“Well, I mean, we are in the middle of a war. Maybe you didn’t notice?” Mosskit mewed sarcastically. But her brother had a point. Their mother was very overprotective of her kits, and she seldom ever let them leave her side.Mosskit sighed. “Well, since I’m awake now, I might as well go with you.”Timberkit’s eyes sparkled. “Great! Now come on, before she wakes up!” He bounded through the screen of moss that protected the nursery, and Mosskit followed suit.Outside, everything was covered in snow, in spite of leaf-bare just starting. The clearing was empty, except for Pouncefur, who was guarding the entrance. The ginger, gray and white she-cat had taken no notice of them, and was staring into the distance. Timberkit was making a beeline straight for the patch of grass in between the apprentice den and the medicine cat den. Mosskit followed him, wondering why her brother wanted to explore a clump of dead grass. She followed his bobbing tail until he reached the barrier wall, made up of thick bushes that were nearly impossible for kits to push through—not for a lack of trying. But here, there was a small opening, just big enough for an apprentice to squeeze through, and plenty big enough for a two moon old kit to get through.“I thought we were just exploring inside the camp.” Mosskit mewed.Timberkit glanced back at her. “Aw, come on, don't be a scaredy-paws. Don’t you want to see what it’s like out there?”She did. She really did. But she knew that if they were discovered, the consequences would be severe. She hesitated, trying to make up her mind.“And what do you two think you are doing?”Mosskit and Timberkit whipped around to see Cranelake standing behind them. The she-cat was the sister of the deputy, Lightningdawn, as well as the sister of Greyheart, a she-cat who had died in a battle with FierceClan before Mosskit had been born.“Nothing!” Timberkit mewed, his eyes stretched wide in a picture of innocence.“Hmm.” Cranelake cast a glance at the small gap in the bush wall behind them, but only mewed, “Ypur mother is looking for you.”“Already?” Grumbled Timberkit. “We only just left the nursery. I swear, one of these days she’s going to find a way to tie us all to her.”Cranlake’s amber eyes sparkled in amusement. “While I would give mice to see that, Peakmist only cares about you. The Clans aren’t exactly at peace right now.” Her eyes darkened. “Now come on, we shouldn’t make Peakmist worry.”With an exaggerated sigh, Timberkit followed the silver tabby she-cat through the dead grass. Mosskit bounded along the path quickly before remembering to slow her pace to match Cranelake’s. The beautiful silver she-cat was about the same age as their mother, but she had retired to the elders den early because of a leg wound that meant she walked slowly, and with a limp. Egretshade, the medicine cat, had told Mosskit once that Cranelake had received the wound during a battle with DayClan. She had said a bunch of big, medicine cat-y words, but the most Mosskit could deduce from that was that the DayClan warrior had cut something vital in Cranelake’s leg, and that was why it was that badly damaged. Even though Cranelake had had to become an elder many moons too early, she was always a kind, wise presence, never bitter or resentful like Mosskit would have expected her to be. The silver tabby spent most of her days playing with the kits and making sure the elders were well taken care of, as well as more recently tending to her brother, Brackenfeather. The poor tom has always been sad and depressed for as long as Mosskit had known him, but Weedhare, one of the elders, had explained to her that he wasn’t always like this. He said that Brackenfeather had once been a great enough warrior to rival his brother, deputy Lightningdawn. But ever since Greyheart’s death in battle, he had been much sadder lately, even though Lightningdawn and Cranelake, the other cats who had been in Greyheart’s litter, didn’t seem to be reacting the same as he did. Mosskit was confused on how 3 cats could react differently over a cat that meant the same to all of them.Cranelake led the way into the snowy center of the camp. Most cats had woken up now, and the clearing was alive with activity, as cats bustled around grabbing prey from the fresh kill pile, going on patrol, and talking to their clanmates.“There you two are!” Peakmist hurried over to wrap her tail around her two wayward kits. She glanced up gratefully at Cranelake. “Thank you for finding them.”Cranelake gave her a smile. “No problem at all.” The she-cat turned and walked back to the elders den, where Ploverjaw and Goosewhisker were complaining about their aching joints.“Did you guys think you could have an adventure without us?” Mosskit’s two other brothers, Ridgekit and Asterkit, tumbled over to them.“Well, I was trying to have an adventure alone, but someone decided she wanted to follow me.”“Only because you stepped on my ear and woke me up!”Before an argument between the two could ensue, their mother stepped between them. “Calm down, you two.” She fixed them with a stern glance. “Neither of you should be exploring around the camp without an adult warrior with you.”Timberkit groaned in annoyance. “Mo-om, we aren’t newborns. You’ve already given us this lecture hunderdrids of times.”Peakmist sighed. “It’s hundreds, dear. And I’m only looking out for your best interests!”Mosskit shared a glance with her siblings. That was what she said every time.They were interrupted by a mew from the entrance to camp. The camp was half empty, most of the warriors out on patrols. Only the elders, medicine cats, and kits remained, along with a few warriors scattered her and there.The mew had come from Weedhare, a fawn colored elder with a white belly. The Tom was holding something in his jaws—too small to be a rabbit, but too big to be a mouse. Then the thing in his jaws let out a small, pitiful mew.Songwish spoke first. “Is that a kit?” There was surprise in the dark gray pointed tom’s eyes.Weedhare set the tiny gray kit down on the snowy ground. “I was taking my morning walk, when I found it in the forest.” He looked down at the tiny kit with pity in his eyes. “It was just sitting there, right out in the open. It must have been abandoned.”Mossfeather, a dark ginger tabby she-cat, let out a hiss. “And you just picked it up? Did you even give it a sniff? It’s probably a FierceClan trap!”“Even FierceClan isn’t cruel enough to put a young kit in harm’s way.” Quietjump pointed out, standing up from where she had been sitting next to Songwish. She walked over to the tiny kit and gave it a sniff. “Doesn’t smell like any Clan, just loners. This poor thing. She was probably abandoned.” Quietjump picked the kit up.Yowls suddenly exploded from all around them. A large light gray tom exploded from the undergrowth, followed by at least 7 terrifying looking cats. They immediately attacked any cat in sight. There were only 4 RoseClan warriors left in camp(Songwish, Mossfeather, Quietjump, and Crabfrost) and several of the strange cats turned towards Mosskit and the elders.Suddenly sharp teeth met in her scruff. Mosskit let out a yowl before she realized it was her mother who had picked her up. She had also clamped Ridgekit in her jaws, and the gray tom was whimpering in fear. Asterkit and Timberkit were already running, dashing ahead towards the nursery entrance. Mosskit wiggled around in her mother’s jaws until she had a clear view of the fight behind them. Mossfeather was pinning a brown tom to the ground, while Crabfrost had much less luck, and was trying to fight back against a pair of particularly vicious looking she-cats. Quietjump was struggling under the gray tom who had led the way into their camp, and Songwish was rushing to aid her. Meanwhile, the elders were putting up a surprisingly good fight against the group of cats attacking them. Goosewhisker and Ploverjaw were going back to back against a trio of muscled loners, and Cranelake was easily beating a younger silver tom, in spite of her bad leg.Mosskit saw this all in a quick moment, although it seemed like time was slowing down. What shocked her most was the expressions of rage and bloodlust on the faces of these cats, even on some of her clanmates. Somehow she had always imagined fighting like the way some of the young warriors tussled good-naturedly for fun in the corner by the warriors den, but the naked aggression and hate made it clear that they were two very different battles.A familiar voice cried out in pain, and Mosskit’s eyes flicked to Weedhare. The elderly tom was collapsed on the ground, a bloody red smile drawn against his throat. The triumphant ginger she-cat who had struck the blow was already glancing around for her next victim.A strangled cry came from Mosskit’s throat. Again, time seemed to slow as she ripped herself from her mother’s jaws just as they were reaching the nursery. She darted over to Weedhare, moving so fast everyone else seemed slow in comparison. But she was still too late. By the time she reached Weedhare, his eyes were already sightless, reflecting the clouds above.Mosskit wanted to wail her sadness and loss to the entire world. But instead she turned to the ginger she-cat who had killed him, and who was now stared at her.“Why did you do that?” Mosskit sobbed. “He didn’t do anything to you!”The ginger she-cat looked a bit confused, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should claw this kit or give her a hug. “Well, it’s a battle. He was in my way.”“You didn’t have to kill him!” Mosskit pressed her nose to the elder’s cheek, as waves of memories of him telling her and her siblings stories and playing mossball with them washed over her.A hiss made her remember she was in the middle of a battlefield, and she looked up to see her mother squaring up the the ginger she-cat, snarling. “Don’t touch my kit!”The look of bloodlust returned to the ginger cat’s face, and she crouched, growling.They probably would’ve launched themselves at each other if a commanding yowl hadn’t interrupted them. Mossfeather was standing on the hill in the center of the camp, with the tiny gray kit clutched in her jaws. “Surrender and leave our camp,” Mossfeather snarled, “Or you can say goodbye to your kit.”Mosskit stared at her clanmate with wide eyes. Her brothers had rushed over to her, and were now cowering beside her, trembling. Mosskit couldn’t believe that her clanmate would even threaten to kill the kit. It was so tiny, and was mewing pitifully in Mossfeather’s jaws.The young silver tom who had been fighting Cranelake glared at her through green eyes. “Don’t touch her!”A murmur of agreement and support whispered through the rest of the rogues, and they crouched in battle stances.“Why are you attacking us?” An injured Quietjump meowed desperately.“Your lands are full of prey, even in leaf-bare.” The gray tom, who seemed to be their leader, spoke. “But outside of your lands, prey is less plentiful. If you give us a piece of your territory, we will leave in peace.”Mossfeather snarled. “You’ll leave in peace right now, or your precious she-kit will die.”“Don’t kill her!” Mosskit mewed pleadingly. “She’s just a kit!”“Shhh!” Peakmist wrapped her tail around Mosskit’s mouth.“They need to be taught what happens when you mess with RoseClan.” Mossfeather hissed, raising her paw to strike a killing blow.“Go ahead, then.” The gray tom mewed calmly. “She’s just another mouth to feed to us, and she’s a runty thing anyway.”The young silver tom stared at him in shock. “But, father, she’s your daughter.”The gray tom pivoted to look at him. “Sometimes sacrifices need to be made for the good of the group.” He snarled. “You must understand that if you are to lead this group one day.”Before the silver tom could speak, challenging yowls sounded from beyond the camp wall. A patrol burst through, returning from hunting. Sunstar led the way, her amber eyes gleaming with anger and ferocity, followed by Codbeam, Onestripe, Honeygrass, and Cloverfish. The rogues flew into battle immediately with them, but the strength and energy of the fresh patrol soon overwhelmed them. It wasn’t long before they were fleeing from the camp, the young silver tom only slowing once to give an anguished glance back at the tiny gray kit, before his father’s yowl rang out. He turned and followed them.“Is everyone ok?” Egretshade asked. The medicine cat appeared to have just returned from gathering herbs, along with her formerly loner apprentice, Nisha.“Weedhare…” Gooswhisker mewed, her voice trembling. “Weedhare’s dead.”Sunstar walked over to the tom, as the rest of the Clan let out small gasps of shock and mournful cries.She looked him over, her expert eyes sliding across him, before she looked up. “He is.”She seemed shaken for a moment, but only a moment. She quickly pulled herself back together into the strong, powerful leader Mosskit knew. Her eyes smoldered with rage. “They will pay. But we must arrange a vigil. If you are injured, check in with Egretshade and Nisha.” She began to direct cats around, assigning different tasks and instructions. But Mosskit couldn’t do anything but stare at Weedhare, the tom who had been breathing, happy, and alive only an hour ago, but now was walking with StarClan.—————“Today, we gather to mourn our beloved Weedhare. He died as he lived, protecting and fighting for his Clan. His sacrifice, his determination, creates a role model of true warriorhood that we should all look up to.”Weedhare’s body was sprawled in the center of the clearing, surrounded by the cats of RoseClan. Peakmist had wanted them to listen to the vigil and then go inside to the nursery, but Mosskit insisted on staying outside. A good cat had died, and he deserved her respect.There had been much argument about what to do with the little gray she-kit, but it had been decided that she would stay with RoseClan, despite Mossfeather and Lightnigdawn’s best efforts. She was too young to remember her family, or what had happened today. So she would stay with Peakmist and her kits, and she would be named Flintkit.Mosskit was glad that they had not killed the poor kit, but she couldn’t help but think of her as a rogue. Although whenever she did that, she felt guilty because her mother and many of her clanmates were rogues and loners, and Flintkit hadn’t done anything wrong.Her thoughts jolted back to the vigil as Sunstar mewed, “The vigil will now commence. Weedhare, may your find your eternal rest in the stars.” Sunstar touched her nose to her clanmate’s ear.Mosskit settled down, shifting her paws until she was comfortable. Her mother licked the top of her head. “Are you sure you want to stay out here, honey? It will be cold.”“I’ll be fine.” Her mother cast her a sympathetic look, before herding Mosskit’s brothers back to the nursery.Mosskit didn’t mean to fall asleep so fast, but before she knew it she was dreaming. Her dream was drawn in a rosy shade, and everything was warm and a bit blurry. Autumn leaves floated down outside the elders den, covering the forest floor in a layer of bright golds and vibrant reds.“I remember when I was a kit, IrisClan threw the best festivals.” Weedhare’s voice rumbled. His warm tail was swept around Mosskit and her littermates, and Mosskit met Weedhare’s pale green eyes, the color of new buds and young leaves.“There would be all sorts of different prey—fish, of course, for those IrisClan cats, rabbits, mice, voles, sparrows, pigeons… any kind of prey you can imagine, they caught it and provided as a meal to all four Clans.”Mosskit’s eyes were drooping closed, as she relaxed in the warm and comfy den.“I remember when I was just an apprentice, and we had a party to celebrate the end of leaf-bare. I talked and danced with a pretty DayClan she-cat. I wonder whatever happened to her.”“Why don’t we still have those festivals, Weedhare?” Mosskit asked, curious.“Well, it’s hard to dance, eat and talk with cats you’ve been in battle with for years.” Weedhare let out a sigh. “This StarClan-cursed war. What’s the point of cats dying in battle every moon?“Why are we in a war?” Mosskit murmured, already half asleep.Weedhare let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore. The original reasons—lack of prey, border disputes—have long been blurred and forgotten. The only reason we still fight is for revenge from the last battle. It’s a cycle. And a cycle only ends when you have the will to walk away.”