Book One of A New Era: A Clan of Fire

Prologue

A calico she-cat gazed into the deep pool in front of her. She purred as she watched the fire-colored she-cat sleep. The she-cat had found herself watching her more and more recently. She had begun to feel pride deep within her. She remembered when the orange she-cat was just a tiny kit at her belly.

"Pumpkin?" asked a tiny voice from behind the she-cat. The calico she-cat turned around to look down warmly at a small black and white tomkit. He was her son, the little brother of the she-cat in the pool. He had died when he was only three moons old due to cold and hunger. His sister, however, managed to survive after her brother's death.

Pumpkin sighed sadly. She had been killed by a monster on the Thunderpath. After that, her kits had been left to survive on their own. The father of the kits had died whilst fighting cats that had wanted him dead. Pumpkin remembered how the orange she-cat had tried desperately to save her little brother, but to no avail. Starvation and cold had been too much for the little kit and he had passed away throughout the night in his sleep. The orange she-cat probably didn't even remember Pumpkin or her brother anymore.

"Pumpkin, are you okay?" the kit asked, worried.

Pumpkin realized that she had been staring into the distance. She now turned to the tiny kit and managed to tell him, "yes."

The kit looked at her dubiously but shrugged. "Can we play?!" he asked excitedly.

"Yes, Frog." the she-cat sighed. She watched with amusement as the kit bounded off happily. Pumpkin began to follow, then took one last look at the orange she-cat and murmured, "I'll see you soon, my love." Then, with a final flick of her tail, Pumpkin disappeared after Frog.

* * *

Two cats emerged from the bushes. They could see a farm down at the base of the hill. The first cat, a tom, growled. He was a huge silver tabby tom with ice blue eyes. Beside him stood another huge ginger and white tom with green eyes. The second wasn't nearly as big as the first, but was still big for a cat. The silver tom was covered in scars and was older than the other, who was young and bore no scars -- yet.

"Are you sure Gizmo?" the silver tom growled nervously. "It is a bit closer to twolegs than I like."

"I am sure. This is the place mother told me about. Besides, I can smell other cat scents on the wind, so the twolegs must not be a danger. Maybe, just maybe we can settle here and find mates and raise kits. We will be happy here, I am certain of that, River," Gizmo meowed contentedly. He may be younger than his brother, but he made most of the decisions and was the leader of the two of them.

River glared down at the farm. "I still don't like it. "

Gizmo sighed. River hated twolegs because their father had been taken by a twoleg and the two brothers had never seen him again. Their mother was killed by a dog. Gizmo had been with her in her dying moments. She had told him to take himself and River to a twoleg farm in the direction where the sun sets. Gizmo could hear a voice in his head telling him that this was the right place, so he began to head down the hill with his brother towards their new home.