Red Snow

CHAPTER 1

A gentle breeze whispered in the dense forest. The air was shockingly cold as white snowflakes fell down from the cloudy, gray sky. Somewhere in the trees, birds chirped as though they weren't affected by the cool leaf-bare weather. A white tail hovered and swayed over the snow as a feline stalked a lone squirrel on the ground. Checking for the wind direction, he crept forward and parted his jaws silently. It doesn't know I'm here. His pure white pelt blended in perfectly with the snow, and for once he was grateful.

"Got ya!" He exclaimed after pouncing and killing the squirrel with a swift bite to its spine. "Thank you for this meal StarClan." He meowed and buried the squirrel under the fresh powder. As he was sniffing for more prey, a large, black tom with white paws appeared out of what seemed like thin air.

"We do not look to StarClan." He rasped.

Snowshade ducked his head. "Of course, it's just a habit." A strange feeling gripped his stomach when he said the words. He knew as deputy of BloodClan he wasn't supposed to trust their warrior ancestors, but that was hard for him. He had always looked up to StarClan for guidance. Would they approve of what I'm doing? After all, having all the Clans come together would stop wars and battles. So why do I feel sick about it? Pushing his doubts aside, he dug up his squirrel and grabbed it in his jaws. He would hunt later, it was far too cold now with the wind picking up speed. Flintstar stared at him as he walked past, before following him down the ridge into the ThunderClan- no, BloodClan- camp.

Cats were weaving in and out of dens when Snowshade arrived at the hollow. They needed to be made bigger with so many extra cats in the camp. Some RiverClan cats had joined them and taken the place of the lost ThunderClan cats, who either died or fled. The same went for RiverClan, which no longer exists.

"Snowshade!" Someone called.

The white tom flicked his ear to show he heard and dropped his kill on the pitifully small pile. I should have caught more. He thought guiltily, though he knew he wasn't supposed to feed anyone but himself. He waved his tail in greetings to Dustclaw as he passed, and bounded up to the cat who had called his name. "Morning, Goldensplash."

She dipped her head politely and then her face grew grim. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." She whispered.

"Well?" Snowshade meowed. He wondered if the she-cat had figured out that they were kin yet. They shared the same father, Shrewstar, though she was the only one who had known him. The previous ThunderClan leader fell in love with his mother, Featherpool, and had him, Buzzardpaw, and Sandfeather. Guilt nagged at him when he thought about his family. Sandfeather was the only one left. He had killed his mother in his rage of finding out the truth, and Buzzardpaw had died before he was made a warrior.

Goldensplash heaved a sigh. "I'm worried about the cats who fled. They may try to attack us, and we're weak right now. We suffered from the battle too. I mean Batwing can hardly stand!"

Sympathy flashed in his eyes. She hadn't figured out yet, she was just worried about her new Clan. "Shouldn't you talk to Flintstar about this?"

She tilted her head. "I tried but he brushed it off. Besides, you're the deputy, you ought to know."

Snowshade cursed at himself. Of course he was the deputy. He often forgot his position in BloodClan, even though he knew he was destined to lead it one day. "I appreciate your concern, and I will be sure to have cats look out for them on the borders. Thanks, Goldensplash." He breathed out.

"Okay." She muttered, clearly not satisfied. Well what does she want me to do? He shrugged and made his way back to the pile, where his squirrel was already gone. A growl formed in the back of his throat. That was his squirrel! Flintstar made it clear that you eat what you catch, and if you don't catch anything you go to sleep hungry. Fury burned in his eyes when he saw Dapplefur happily eating his prey, but he didn't stop her. She looked starving; her pelt was clinging to her ribs and her eyes looked dull. She needs it more than I do.

"I can't wait for the gathering tomorrow!" An excited squeal echoed through the silent hollow.

The tom turned his head in annoyance and saw Spicepaw bounded into the camp with a scrawny vole in his jaws. He spat it on the pile and ran over to his littermates, Brindlepaw and Winterpaw. "Badgertooth said we're going to the gathering!"

     "Badgertooth isn't your mentor." Winterpaw sighed.

     "Well no, but he said that we were most likely going if we behave!" Spicepaw purred. Snowshade flicked his tail dismissively. He remembered when he was a young apprentice, eager and full of energy. Those days were over, he had far more important things ahead of him.

     Snowshade was too focused on the apprentices to notice that Flintstar approached him. "It will be the last." He meowed solemnly.

     "Hm?" Snowshade murmured as he looked up at the giant tom.

     "Tomorrow will be the last gathering we attend. We will let the other Clans know that ThunderClan and RiverClan are no more, and they can join us willingly or we will fight them. That's all we have to say." Flintstar laughed, "it will be a gathering to remember."

     Snowshade gulped. "Do you think they'll join us?"

     The leader shrugged. "I don't expect them to all come happily. A few might, but Fawnstar and Oakstar will be out of their fur furious."

     "I'd like to see Oakstar go back to being a normal warrior in BloodClan." Snowshade flexed his claws. "Or I might just kill him before."

     Flintstar turned his cold gaze to Snowshade. "You may hate Oakstar, but he is valuable. We need him in the Superior Clan."

     "Yes, Flintstar." He yawned, suddenly realizing how tired he was. It must be the weather getting to him. With a respectful nod, he padded into the old medicine den, now his deputy den. They didn't have a medicine cat in BloodClan. If a cat was injured, they would have to deal with it. Swiftprance, the ThunderClan medicine cat, had fled with the others. Their loss, He thought. As he circled around the den and curled up for the night, he felt cold and lonely. At one time in his life he would curl up next to Honeystorm and Cherrymoon, torn between who he loved the most. Now Honeystorm was dead with his kits, and Cherrymoon was gone, and he didn't know where. Thinking about her made him angry. She didn't want to join them. However much he wanted to hate her, however, he couldn't. All he really wanted was her back.