Nightflit's Fate

Prologue

The tom bristled in dusky moonlight. His grey eyes stared into the deep, dark depths of the forest trees a few tail-lengths ahead of him.

'What do you want, you old hag? I've already told you that I'm not giving him it. It's already too late, too many cats haven fallen, too many have—'

'Silence! You do not understand the power he holds.' Golden eyes peered out at him from the black abyss. He could already imagine his mangy and torn coat flourishing with the stench of rotting flesh, and smell his stink like old crowfood left to sit out on a hot thunderpath. He wanted to be out of this StarClan-forbidden place, and envied his Clanmates, probably sleeping in their dens, chasing sparrows in their dreams.

The eyes narrowed into tight slits. 'Be careful what you wish for,' he said in a menacing voice. 'Because one day it will come back and bite you.'

Suddenly moonlight filled the clearing, perhaps uncovered from the shadow of a passing cloud. The waning white disk shone bright in the dark forest. He had to squint as to not hurt his eyes from the sudden light, for they had already adjusted to the gloominess of this sickly place.

The powerful cat spoke once more, louder this time, more commanding. 'You will deliver the message to him if you want to keep your life!' Then his voice lowered to a deep growl. 'Now go. I don't need you here any longer. Your kind disgusts me,' he spat.

The cat in the clearing was appalled. He had never seen him this angry, this . . . dangerous. He knew that he would not actually murder him right here, for he had something very important only he could do. But after, that was a different story. Perhaps he would.

'What is wrong with you?' he meowed fiercely, knowing it was probably not the smartest remark. 'I come here to say to you that I'm not telling him, and what do you give me? You give me fox-dung, that's what you give me. You are a traitor to your kin and to everyone that—'

The eyes disappeared. Before he even had time to say 'mouse', the cat was upon him. Claws, sharp as needles, dug into his pelt, drawing thick red blood from his veins. He gasped, but managed to hold his scowl.

'Do not dare defy me!' he screeched. The claws dug further, scraping bone, and the vulnerable cat let rip an ear-piercing shriek. His shoulders and flank were now bathed in blood, and he stared into his attackers eyes with undeniable bravery. 'You can never defeat me! I have ruled since the birth of time, and I will rule to the end of it.' There was a terrifying growl building up in the cat's stomach. His gaze wavered down to his throat.

The pinned cat tried not to feel any fear. He knew that it was very likely that he was going to die on this very patch of grass, this bloodied, dead, patch of grass. 'Kill me,' he taunted. 'Go ahead. At least you will have to get someone else to deliver the prophecy.'

His attacker grinned a viscous and evil looking grin. 'Oh Rushstripe, if you insist. I will make sure that your legacy will never be forgotten.' He paused for a moment. 'Take a good look at me; I will be the last face you ever see. Goodnight.'

And then he sank his teeth into the cat's neck. When he stopped squirming, he carried the body over to the nearest stream. It was a cold one, and flowed sluggishly like it was quite lazy. He deposited the body here, and watched it float downstream, bumping into rocks that obstructed its path on the way down.

'Farewell, my friend. Perhaps you have learned your lesson this time.' And then he padded away, into the dim trees.