Warriors: Shadow and Light

Prologue

The crisp Autumn leaves gently fluttered down and fell to the ground, coating it in a thick blanket of leaves. There was a slight breeze, and then nothing. The brown she-cat raised her head suddenly as she heard a crackle in the brush. She perked her ears to hear more, and strained to see if she could smell anything.

After she thought it was nothing, she turned away. She had to get back to her den to check on her kits. She started towards the den, then got knocked down by a brute force.

She reeled around to find a large black tom cat on her, clawing fiercely. She yowled and tried to throw him off, but his weight was too much.

She rolled onto her back, revealing her soft belly. This knocked his balance off, but he quickly regained balance before she could flee.

She looked into his cold dark eyes. The large tom gave an evil smirk as he too looked at her. The brown she-cat gasped. She knew this tom well.

"Crackedspine!" she yowled. The dark warrior stared into her terrified eyes and grinned.

"Yes, Softnight," he meowed, his voice low. "And, may I ask how you kits are doing? Oh, if they haven't already died. I always knew they were weaklings, especially that tiny white one. Yes, she shows weakness, like you."

Softnight growled and flashed her teeth. "My kits are not weaklings!" she hissed, her eyes slit. "And that tiny white one is doing the best!"

Crackedspine dug his claws into her shoulders, making her yowl. He growled, "Well, go ahead and say goodbye to your little precious bundle."

Softnight's eyes filled with terror. "Wha-what do you mean?" she stammered. "Not my kits! Don't hurt my kits!"

The dark tom smirked. "Oh don't worry, your kits will be safe," he meowed darkly.

Softnight's heart began to beat fast. "Then, what are you gonna do?" she asked, fear cracking her voice.

Without another word, Crackedspine raised up on his back paws and dropped down onto Softnight. He dug his teeth into her neck. She struggled underneath him, scratching to try and get him off. It was no use.

Within moments, Softnight stopped clawing and went limp. Her breathing stopped and, slowly, Crackedspine got off of her. He licked the blood off of his lips.

As he stepped away from the bleeding body, he glanced one last time at Softnight. Her chest lay still and blood poured out of her neck. He felt a glow of pride in his work, Hawkpelt would be proud.

Aside from it all, there was something that Crackedspine did not know.

Someone was watching it all.

The little white kit ran away from the scene, her heart racing and sadness and hatred filling her chest.

This cat would have to pay for what he had done.