Caɾղaցe Ɱօօղ ~𝙰 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌

Prologue 🌙

"And you're sure she's the cat?"

A Starclan cat crouched next to the sunlit pond, her white pelt half-covered by enveloping, glowing green grass. Her starlit ears twitched in annoyance at the repeated question.

"Of course. We believe we have found the right cat this time. She's remarkable. She just-"

A third Starclan cat interrupted, their starry pelt swirled with stars that were dimly lit and faded. Their paws sent up less sparks as they moved, their apparatus less apparent among the pond's weeded edge.

"That's nonsense! This cat is part kittypet. She can't represent the clans," the cat's voice was condescending and scornful.

It was Ivyfall, Windclan's deceased deputy. Yet even as he spoke, his tail twitched- as if he knew that some cat would call him out soon.

"You just died recently, Ivyfall. Do not pretend to know a thing about Starclan's acceptances. After all, we've had legendary leaders both kittypets and rogues... Loners or tribe cats alike." Whiteleaf's voice was tinged with a growl as she spoke.

"And you dare doubt her for something her mother has done? She's Clanborn. So you're just reaching for an argument." Her green eyes and white pelt helped her spirit to glow even brighter, and her halo of white light seemed stronger than the others.

"So that's what we're making her? A leader as a kit?"

It was Rainstar who snapped this time, and on his own deputy at that. "No, you hare-brain. We're going to wait until she reaches us, then give her an endowment. These cats don't want to repeat the same mistakes as last time." His thick grey fur bristled slightly, and Whiteleaf found herself hiding a chuckle.

If ever a cat admitted with their eyes that they dislike their deputy, it's Rainstar.

"Starclan is much cleverer than to throw nine lives away at first glance," the dark Windclan leader finished.

Whiteleaf nodded, agreeing with the newly-deceased leader.

"Oh, sure- but they aren't so smart about other things...." Many cats shot glares his way. Finally Ivyfall had the sense to stay quiet. But his tabby silvery-and-white tail still swished against the grass. With a breeze tugging their whiskers, the medicine cat bent closer to the circle of cats around her. The ferns shielded their group. Whiteleaf finally felt a sense of comfort and privacy settle beside the seeing-pool.

"The point is that Starclan fixes their mistakes, and looks to a brighter future. If we can do that, it'll prove that we've made the right choice this time." Some of the cats whispered behind her, until one blurted out, "but he was onto something; what right does a kittypet's kin have to save the clans? Why not a clan cat?"

Whiteleaf almost rolled her eyes. "Oh please," she sighed loudly, cranking up the volume of her mew to be heard. "This track has been tread time and time again!

She's perfect for the task. She's young enough to adapt to the casualties. She has the boldness of a maned lioness. You've seen it for yourself in the pool... The youngest cat we've witnessed yet to fight back against them."

The dead medicine cat pointed a white spirit-paw at the water below them, before peering back at the numerous cats crouching, standing or sitting in the grasses before her.

"And we do not choose perceievably extraordinary cats... just the ones who can stand on all four paws with virtue, after all is said and done. So I feel this is the right choice." Many silver-lighted heads nodded in agreement, some with their ears sticking partway out of the ferns.

Dragonflies buzzed across the water behind them, skimming the cattails as they zigzagged adjacent to each other. The cats were quieter as the crickets began their symphony, a foreboding warning that night as well as death would fall upon the clans once more.

"Then what sign do we send? And to who?" Another Starclan cat called out, their black velvet ears twitching and sending stars swirling down their pelt and paws.

"Yes, it needs to be quick," Rainstar cut in, his cerulean eyes worried as he rose next to Whiteleaf. "Our medicine cat apprentice can't save the last injured warriors by himself! What if there's an attack while-"

Some cat yowled from the audience, and Rainstar's frantic words were cut off. Shadows were pooling beaneth the oak and maple trees, deepening underneath a pelt of orange light.

"I'm afraid Windclan is already wiped out," Whiteleaf stated calmly, knowing that half the time, she hardly remembered her own clan of origin. She found it hard to care as much as other cats did.

"Then we must restore my clan!" Rainstar demanded.

Whiteleaf knew that all of the clans were equal and different from each other in nothing more than culture and environment. Otherwise, they were all groups with equal needs; yet the want to express themselves as individual arose each time. It was always Riverclan, Thunderclan, Shadowclan- "my clan." But never "the clans" or "our clans."

"One thing at a time. All of the clans are suffering," Whiteleaf chided.

The cats among the grasses sat beneath now-appearing stars. A thick belt of them swathed one particular area of pastel-violet starlit sky.

Whiteleaf loved that about this place. Somehow the stars were brighter and closer to the earth than they ever had been in life.

"No, we shouldn't send a sign." She went on before Rainstar could argue.

"Her fiery spirit will send her to us soon enough, no matter the danger. She will be in this alone, I fear- save for a few friends along the way, if they survive." Of this, Whiteleaf's ancient mind was completely confident.

"So what's stopping this so-called-special cat from dying first?" one of Starclan's warriors called flatly, and many turned their necks around to try and tell which had said it.

The comment was jarring, and the medicine cat felt a stirring of crossness because of it. She flicked her tail and remained where she sat, simmering. The forlorn she-cat then turned back towards the pool.

"Clearly you did not hear me when I said no cat is special."

Young fallen warriors are so full of it these days. Always bitter about their own stolen time. "Nothing but expectation. Same old, same old. We shall see if she lives." She gritted her teeth, and then let the anger go, as easily as water sliding down into a rocky pool.

I have a feeling she will. If only they had let me have a say last time, they'd know. She-cats intuition knows best... The starry figure blinked her tired eyes.

Sometimes prophecies aren't always right.

Beneath that tree, she calmly stayed, watching the ripples of water as they formed a foggy but forming mirror-view into the Warrior's living world.

Whiteleaf