Warriors: Thrushpelt's Revenge

Prologue

BLUESTAR

Bluestar padded into the clearing, her blue eyes widened with anticipation. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her pads were slick with sweat. She hadn't seen the cat whom she was meeting in moons. Even the message that had summoned her here had been passed on through a pawful of cats.

Thrushpelt was sitting in the middle, his tail wrapped around his paws. His green eyes were glowing with a slight hint of rage, but a good nature still fueled his body. "Hello Bluestar," the tom meowed in a cool, sharp tone. The pair of words was enunciated clearly.

The ThunderClan leader dipped her head respectfully, the nervousness quickly fading as her gaze swept up and down the tom's body. He had faded over the moons, but her old friend was still in good shape. "Hello Thrushpelt. Why did you call me here?"

Thrushpelt licked a paw and drew it over his ear, seeming much more calm than the blue-gray leader initially was. "Because I have some important information to communicate to you. Frankly, I'm surprised that you even came." His words had gained a cruel tone, and Bluestar tried not to feel hurt at her loyal Clanmate's harsh demeanor.

Bluestar swallowed nervously; the twisted expression on the sandy gray tom's face was concerning her now. Thrushpelt had always been the light-hearted, playful one who she could always depend on. "I'm your friend, Thrushpelt, of course I would have come."

He looked doubtful. "I'm here to tell you that I'm leaving."

"What? Why!" the blue-gray cat meowed, alarmed.

"Because I'm not going to chase after you anymore. I'm not going to sob on your shoulder when you can find a moment away from your duties. I'm leaving." His words were sharp, rising in pitch at the end and slicing through Bluestar's heart.

The StarClan cat didn't understand what he was trying to say. "Are you going to kill yourself?" she whispered, voice filled with shock. The blue-gray she-cat couldn't fathom one of her oldest friends leaving StarClan. The thought was hardly processing, yet emotion bled through her eyes.

A quick nod sealed her suspicions.

"Why?!" she hissed, anger tinting her voice. "You have Rainfur, Tawnyspots, and Dappletail! You have me!"

"I don't want any of them!" Thrushpelt shouted, jumping into a standing position, legs tense and eyes narrowed. "I want you, but I can never have you! So I'm going to leave." Before any cat could stop him, Thrushpelt got to his paws and padded away.

Bluestar looked distraught, but she didn't move from her position. Interrupting wasn't something she could do when it was her own fault.

THRUSHPELT

He had let anger slip through the calm demur that he established. Now, his rage was more directed at himself. Taking a deep breath, Thrushpelt stared at his paws.

He was going to have to fabricate a lie, but Bluestar did it for him. He was going to have to run away swiftly so she couldn't pursue him, but she hadn't even glanced in his direction.

Thrushpelt was heartbroken.

He'd have expected that she would fight for him. Like he did for her. Again, and again, and again he had been pushed aside, but he kept on assisting Bluestar in her misadventures. Thrushpelt had helped so much, and he got nothing in return! Rage boiled in the pit of his belly.

"I'm crossing the line," the sandy gray tom hissed, speeding up his stride so that he was nearly sprinting now. The line was a brutal decision, but one that the ThunderClan tom dearly needed. After what felt like forever, Thrushpelt was standing in front of a border of glowing whiteness. On one side was the pungent smell of evil, evil that had been rotting for seasons on end. And Thrushpelt was enveloped in the scent of StarClan.

He put a paw just over the line, his claws unsheathing as his pads touched the peaty ground. Courage flooded his body, and a wicked grin rose to his face.

"Goodbye Bluestar," he meowed, taking a step over the border. His entire body was surrounded by the misty, dark smell of the Dark Forest. "I'll be seeing you after you're dead. . . Again. . ."

The only response was a malicious chuckle that came from deep within the dark trees. "Another, for our noble cause. . . "

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A/N: Thanks for reading the prologue of Thrushpelt's Revenge! We hope you enjoyed.