Cry of the River Book 1
The five Warrior Clans are going extinct. Gatherings and Moonpool visits are inacessable, with leaders falling left and right. The lake territories are being wiped out to the brink of extinction by new, large predators that h...
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Reeds swished together beside the riverbeds, whispering in the light breeze. Squirrels chittered and ran between the thick silvery tree-trunks, their obscure noise a blissful rhapsody in the serene Starclan grove.
"There is something we can do for you, Crescentsky." Whiteleaf was very serious now. She stood rigid, pausing to stare at the warrior.
She just acknowledged my warrior name...! She knows! She saw the ceremony! Crescentsky's tail flipped with delight. Ears pricked, she regarded this with a purr.
But Whiteleaf flicked her tail in a beckoning gesture. The action suspended her words.
Is she beckoning me? But Crescentsky was already standing right in front of her.
"Starclan can give you a gift. But it is temporary." Whiteleaf went on while cats flitted from the foliage all around them.
Wait... what?
Cats lept from behind willow trees and crawled out of the scrubland. Cats swarmed over and around the waterfall, their paws kicking up a spray. Cats stomped out of hedgerows on one side of the clearing, shaking leaves from their pelts. A few mated couples and close kin even padded from shadowy shrubs, their pelts brushing and their starlight twice as bright together.
So many Starclan cats! Crescentsky breathed in amazement. She caught sight of Chaosclaw and Smallsparrow. Their heads were held high as they settled on the edge of the glade.
The other Starclan cats had hid themselves well. Or maybe they had just now arrived. A few of the ones in the front smirked, but Crescentsky didn't mind.
Naturally, her first thought was to look for her father Everfrost. Then she searched in vain for Eveningstar, Hillflower, or Cloverkit. But there were so many different pelts; dark and pale. Lithe and broad-shouldered. Long-furred and short pelted.
"Whiteleaf, pardon me." Crescentsky focused on Whiteleaf again, ignoring the approaching crowd to address the she-cat's earlier statement.
"By a gift, did you mean that you can give me my claws back? Please give Tinyflame hers too," she added with a beg.
"No, young warrior. We cannot return your claws." A tall tom stepped up from the crowd, his features more distinguishable as he drew apart from the others.
The warrior's pelt was dark tabby with white paws. His long tufted fur was edged with a soft starlit glow, and he was half-smiling in a bittersweet kind of way.
"Everfrost!" She meowed with delight. Crescentsky didn't stop herself from bounding forward. Grit flung up under her paws as she skidded into her father's chest.
