Book One of the How the Mighty Fall Trilogy
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Stonetail is a headstrong young warrior and the daughter of Greystar, a formidable she-cat known for her strict adherence to the code. All her life, she has practiced honor, valor, and fait...
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The storm has passed. Smoke lingers in the damp air, and stray pockets of flame smolder, on their way out. The greenleaf birdsong is absent, leaving the morning to march on without a symphony to accompany it. It seems as if whatever life the forest once held has been snuffed out; even the mighty pines have fallen.
There is a hint of movement, though. The pines have fallen, yes, but not all have burned. Their massive, charred trunks lean on one another to create a web of scorched wood and creaking boughs that shed needles onto the parched earth with every feeble gust of wind. One such construction rests over the remains of ShadeClan, creating the tiniest pocket of shelter on the very edge of the ravaged camp. The gap beneath these timbers is a narrow squeeze for anything larger than a rabbit, and the sooty grass is slick from the rain. Runoff steadily drips past the gap's opening, beginning to form a small pool.
From this pool, a haggard grey shadow drinks its fill. A gash in its chest drops hardened flecks of blood into the water. The scratch across its nose forces it to snort and huff, laboring to breathe as it laps at the water.
A crow squawks from above. The shadow startles, limping back below the fallen pines to watch as the bird glides to earth, landing below a nearby branch to peck at something in the dirt.
The shadow bunches its legs, squares its shoulders, lowers its tail. In one grand, creaking leap, it lands atop the bird, sinking shining fangs into its neck and twisting until bones snap.
These will not be the last bones snapped by the shadow, not if it has anything to say about it. Hungrily it devours the crow, blood staining grey fur reddish brown, and when it finishes, it casts the bones aside to look up at the cloudy sky. Overhead, there is not a storm to be seen.
