The HiddenClan's Revenge (in progress)

[thornclaw]

This story is formed like the Warriors - four different Clans with the belief in StarClan. Each Clan is made up of different animals (ForestClan - cats; DropClan - foxes and several birds; MountainClan - wolves; MythClan - several mythical creatures). There are many different sub-plots which I'm working on. Several main themes of the story include:

• MythClan's mysterious disappearance
  
• The strange kits which are found in ForestClan territory (which will play an extremely major role in the plot, so keep an eye on them)
  
• The abnormal silence of StarClan

I wish I could post all of the character sketches that I have done, but it would give away major 'spoilers' for the future! I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to post your opinions or critiques! Chapter 4 is under construction, but will probably be up around the end of February at the earliest.

Prologue

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A chilling gust of wind swept through the forest, piercing the marrow of anything living. Leaves, drifting peacefully, now swirled like a stormy sea in the dark wood, floating to an unknown destination. The sharp outline of tree branches against the sky wavered up and then fell again, as if exhausted by the anger of the wind. An un-earthly howl split the air like a shattered glass mirror, or a lost soul. Suddenly a white figure could be seen briefly sprinting in and out of the dense forest of trees. A black figure pursued it, it's presence seemed enough to haunt eternally all good and living creatures around it. The evil and dark figure raced faster after the white one, which was now just a blur, weaving in and out of the whispering shadows. Suddenly the trees disappeared with the speed of the white shape, and there it could be seen, halting and rearing at the edge of a windy and jagged cliff that dropped suddenly onto an enormous blue and green lake beyond. The breath of the white figure could be seen distantly floating, like a cloud, in the cool air. The black form halted in front of the white one, it's eyes were too terrible to describe. Slowly it whispered, or, rather hissed, something to the white form. The white figure raised it's head in defiance briefly, and a shining white pointed object on it's forehead shone with a blinding and unnatural pure light. The black shadow flinched slightly, yet so subtly that no human eye could catch it's un-willing movement. The white figure snorted a reply to the night-black form, to which the shadow retorted swiftly an answer. The white form bowed it's head, the horn gleaming more faintly now. What the black figure had said was true. The black shadow gloated in silent victory, then spoke in a haunting whisper to the white form.
A raven cawed in the howling wind. Terrified eyes could be seen glowing in the dark forest. The whole forest seemed to be holding it's breath.
Then, slowly, hopelessly, the white form bowed it's head and walked towards the black shadow. The night-creature's eyes glowed like an ember in silent victory. The creature turned around and called to an ally. Horribly black figures, such as the other's form, slowly encircled the white figure until it's figure was blotted out by the darkness.
The Dark had triumphed.

[thornclaw]

Chapter 1 - The Finding

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The whole Forest seemed to be holding its breath. Mists swirled violently through the abandoned parts of the Forest, like angry ravens unleashing their malice. The slender form of birch trees lashed to and fro in the boisterous storm. Moving quickly, heavy gray clouds hovered over the vulnerable woodland, scattering rodents and birds alike. Thunder rumbled in the lofty skies, and the once towering trees now stooped over miserably in the harsh weather. Two dark slits of eyes glanced in a sort of frightened manner about the floor of the wooded forest. Hidden in the small hollow of a cedar tree, the large form of a snowy white owl protruded its head through the small circular opening formed in the tree. Shuffling closer to the edge of the hole, the bird shot a quick glance at the forest floor. Gradually, malice increased in its eyes; its demeanor spiteful.
But the owl was not the only alert creature in the Forest. Uneasy and hesitating pawsteps were muffled unwillingly in the Forest. Minuscule prints left in the moist earth among the leaves and twigs could be seen if one peered closely to the forest floor. The miniature tracks led onward, towards the heart of the Forest. In the more dense part of the wood, the tracks stopped beside a large, stone wall. The wall was crumbling and slowly decaying, but still it prevailed against forces of nature; humbly standing five or six fox lengths above the earth. An old willow tree gently bent closely to the ground, sheltering a damp patch of earth that had been left clinging to the ground.
Suddenly a desperate mew was drowned out in the crashing thunder. Two tiny felines huddled closely to the wall, their tiny forms barely distinguished from the tall wall. Larger clouds emerged from the dark grey sky above, blocking out the little light that was left. Four small, oval eyes peered out into the darkness, two of them a dark green, the other pair an azure blue. The vaguely larger cat, the one with a black, gleaming pelt and emerald eyes licked his sister’s ear reassuringly. The two kits apprehensively pressed closer to the wall.

Many fox-lengths away, a feline crouched by a thick wall of bramble and leaves surrounding the clearing. It sniffed the dense, damp air carefully, surveying the dark opaque clouds. The feline stood up, shaking it's thick brown pelt and tapping large claws on the earth, hoping the clouds would not hail down rain.
It was silent around the clearing, even though it was the camp. Occasionally a few hushed mews could be heard in silent conversation within the hollowed dens, or a patrol would pass by quietly and scatter, but other then that the camp was still.
A large golden-yellow tabby emerged from a dugout in a part of the camp concealed in the bushes and shrubs. It stretched, yawning and protruding large fangs. After blinking slowly and inspecting the camp, it spied the brown warrior, and trotted swiftly over to the other cat, playfully ramming his forehead into the brown cat’s side.
“C’mon, Earthpelt. Let’s go patrol.” The golden tabby’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Earthpelt deliberately clawed the humid dirt, eyeing the clouds warily. When he didn’t reply, the golden tom followed his gaze up to the darkening clouds.
"Are you afraid we’ll be lost when it begins raining?" the tom asked, half worriedly despite his humor.
The insulted warrior glanced down at Swiftclaw, the tabby. Earthpelt’s hard expression softened a little in amusement. Thunder rumbled once again in the distance; the two warriors flattened their ears hastily.
"Go find an apprentice who wants to join the patrol."
Swiftclaw nodded and bounded off in the opposite direction, toward a small den that seemed to be flowing with drapes of flowering plants. Suddenly a light rain drizzled down onto the clearing. Earthpelt lashed his heavy tail in exasperation. Being one of the more experienced warriors, he was given the authority to supervise a numerous quantity of the patrols while the deputy was hunting or away.
Out of the apprentices’ den a small white cat bolted through the opening, running quickly to Earthpelt. Swiftclaw followed his apprentice, sprinting easily along. The energetic apprentice, Pearlpaw, circled Earthpelt slowly.
"So where are we going first?" She stopped in her tracks, edging restlessly closer to the gorse tunnel which led outside of the camp. Earthpelt and Swiftclaw followed, carefully avoiding a large puddle of muddy water.
"We’ll head north until we pass Maple Clearing, and then turn east to patrol the border." Earthpelt answered decisively.
Maple Clearing was a large, leafy clearing surrounded by maple trees that formed a half circle. The other half of the circle was openly facing towards MountainClan territory. The large, tall maple trees served as a strong camouflage against the eye of any enemy. The large rushing river that ran between MountainClan territory and ForestClan territory created a boundary line. Orange, gold, and red colors of autumn were beginning to replace the dark green leaves, and occasionally a crisp leaf would drift silently to the ground. Tall and thick grasses grew in the meadow, a haven to any creature. But this moon had been unlike so many others. Dark clouds, distant thunder, and freezing drops of rain harassed the Forest. Was StarClan angry?
The two warriors and the apprentice set off north, to the clearing. The dense fog swirled through the woodland, chasing after their paws; dancing in the shadows. The rain was still drizzling lightly, but the felines knew it could change its measures at any moment. Speed was needed. Taking long strides through the Forest, the trio soon reached the outskirts of Maple Clearing.
Upon reaching the clearing, Pearlpaw stopped, panting heavily. It seemed like more than two border patrols to her . . . running in the rain and fog, awkwardly leaping almost blindly over bushes.
Earthpelt paused, allowing the group a brief respite. Swiftclaw glanced up at the clouds, opening his jaws slightly to scent the air, as he had seen many experienced warriors do so often, licking his muzzle when a cold raindrop hit his open mouth. Pearlpaw chortled softly.
Yet again the thunder rumbled, redundant in its angry ways. Lightning struck vigorously in the dark sky, flashing thin streaks of a dark yellow color through the heavens. The white apprentice recoiled, pressing closer to the ground in anxiety. Suddenly Earthpelt caught his breath. Swiftclaw perked his ears forward, watching Earthpelt.
"Did you hear that?" Earthpelt meowed suddenly, completely alert.
"What?" Earthpelt tensed, rigid, like a petrified tree. As if to add to the warrior’s apprehension, a deafening roar of thunder boomed in the darkening sky above. Pearlpaw looked up at Earthpelt’s muzzle, not sure what to make of his expression. They listened, hardly breathing to determine what this was that Earthpelt was so concerned about. Suddenly a thin, piercing noise could be heard, muffled in the dense fog and forest trees.
"That!" Earthpelt whispered.
Pearlpaw trembled, not knowing what to think. The tabby strained his ears to hear the sound, quickly twisting his head to the west to hear it more clearly. Again the strange sound could be heard, but more clearly.
"I-I think it’s coming from the Gardens." Pearlpaw remarked.
Swiftclaw nodded, exchanging glances with Earthpelt.
"Well, we’re not going to just sit here!" Earthpelt meowed firmly, "Come! Let’s see what this noise is—" He was suddenly cut off by a rolling bellow of thunder. Rain pelted more firmly as the three felines set of in search of the strange and eerie noise . . .

[thornclaw]

Chapter 2 - Puzzled

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A smooth sliver of a moon shone in the dark sky among glittering white stars. Moonlight fell upon a lush green forest that stood growing on a gently sloping mountain; a slow breeze blew through the night sky. MountainClan: the majestic abode of wilderness and wolves.
Clearings and gaps in the ocean of trees were seldom seen, but an unusually large clearing towards the top of the mountain showed dimly through the forest. Hidden dugouts dotted the clearing; paw prints wandered around a large silver rock. Nothing stirred in this canine camp, except perhaps the an anxious or restless pup. A quiet, balanced step was muffled in the clearing, perhaps both restless and anxious. Either way, it could be heard.


Fogpelt jerked her silver muzzle from neatly crossed paws. Pupils adjusting quickly in the dark, she spied several nearby canines shifting sleepily in the large sandy den, yawning and showing long white fangs. Mist swirled silently near the small den entrance; a light rain pattered on the rocks above the den. Fogpelt wasn’t sure why she had wakened, but most likely her disturbance was hunger, thirst, or the patter of falling rain.

Scrabbling to her paws, she crept through the narrow den hole and pushed her way through. Shaking her pelt free of the clinging sand in the den, she strained her eyes in the dark to find the shallow puddle that was used by her Clan as a drinking hole. She trotted over towards it and lapped up a large portion, idly glancing around the moonlit clearing.
Suddenly a rustling noise caught her attention; it came from the direction of the fresh-kill pile. She wondered for an instant if it could be something other than a clan mate; her hackles raised involuntarily at the thought of an intruder.
The mist was heavy and slightly opaque, so Fogpelt cautiously stalked the noise blindly, guided only by her nose and keen ears under the thick canopy of fog. The creature of her target smelled of MountainClan, but through the rain it smelled of nothing to her, at the moment. She could sense that the thing that had made the rustling noise was about several fox-lengths away from her; it was motionless now. She raised herself from her current hunting position, ready to attack.

What she saw before her, poised in the swirling mist, was a familiar black wolf. Its back was turned to the side and its muzzle was lowered, but Fogpelt smelled the distinct odor of MountainClan; undoubtedly the wolf she had almost attacked was the Clan leader, Shadowstar. The leader raised her muzzle, and Fogpelt immediately shifted her gaze to the ground, sheepishly wagging her tail as a gesture of humility.

"Sorry, I couldn’t see who you were, I thought you might be an intruder, . . ." Fogpelt trailed off, pawing the humid dirt. She hoped the leader understood. She glanced back up at Shadowstar – to her instant surprise, nothing was there but the branch of an old oak tree swaying in the cold wind. Bewildered, Fogpelt wheeled around and caught sight of a black bushy tail disappearing quickly around the tall gray rock of the leader’s den. Had she offended her leader that badly? She knew Shadowstar could occasionaly be edgy, but this was unusually out of character for Shadowstar.
Pawsteps heavy with thought, the creamy-blue wolf slowly moped her way back to the den, wondering what was ailing her leader. She slipped through the narrow entrance and felt a cool waft of air. Curling up to sleep in her usual corner, her conscience kept nagging her, and she couldn't sleep. Was Shadowstar really all that mad? Worried eyes were still wide open. Was something wrong? Had StarClan sent Shireheart, the medicine wolf, a forbading sign? Finally she decided to apologize to Shadowstar promptly in the morning. Her conscience clear, she drifted off to sleep, still concerned.

"Fogpelt. Wake up." A claw prodded her side and someone's muzzle jabbed the side of Fogpelt's pelt.
"Oww. . . " Fogpelt blinked back the blurry figures on her eyes. She looked up and could make out Snowwind, a MountainClan warrior. Snowwind shook a white pelt impatiently. "Come on. Shadowstar just called a meeting, bug-brain. Wake up!" She nudged Fogpelt again in the ribs; this time she stood up hastily.
"Okay, okay. . ."
Her white-pelted friend had already darted out of the entrance of the den.
It must be important, Fogpelt thought, Or she would not have called a meeting this early. She almost froze with horror; perhaps Shadowstar was exiling her from the Clan.
Don't be stupid, she told herself. That's not practical or probable.
Suddenly Snowwind poked her white muzzle through the den entrance, blocking the faint dawn light outside. She howled playfully with exasperation.
"I'm not going to save you a piece of fresh-kill."
Fogpelt grinned, and emerged from the den into the clearing, and padded after Snowwind towards the great silver rock known as Meeting Rock. The rock wasn't actually just a single rock - it was a great, smooth boulder that broadly sloped upwards, and a long rock jutted out atop the platform, creating a pedestal for the leader. A hidden hollow of a cave was concealed by a large bush at the base of the Meeting Rock; this was the leader's den.
Fogpelt took a seat next to Snowwind and nervously glanced up towards the top of Meeting Rock to see Shadowstar. She observed her mood; she didn't seem too happy. Fogpelt shifted uneasily. Something was wrong.
"Wolves of MountainClan," the leader began after barking for silence among the Clan.
Great, I'm crowfood.
Shadowstar had darted a glance in Fogpelt's direction. A restless pup behind Snowwind yelped as his little sibling playfully bit his tail. Shadowstar narrowed her eyes, silencing the pups without speaking.
"Yesterday, as you will remember, during the thunderstorm, a twilight patrol was evidently lost. As it began hailing, our search parties had to withdraw from the mountains." Several nearby wolves mournfully shook their heads, while others loudly howled, clearly upset. "We still have not found them, but we will continue searching today for them. Though their tracks may be washed away and their scent lost, I think they may be in the Hidden Wood. We will organize search parties immediately." Shadowstar turned around and bounded off of the Meeting Rock to consult with her deputy, Sandclaw, and a loud murmuring began between the wolves as they broke up, forming groups.
Fogpelt was relieved; perhaps Shadowstar wasn't angry with her at all. As for the absent twilight patrol, she clearly remembered the incident. Dustpaw, Rainfall, and Sunheart had gone on for a late twilight patrol when it began to rain. That made two experienced warriors and an apprentice-in-training. Of course, the Clan wasn't assuming they would be lost out there; what warrior couldn't handle rain? But as night fell, a thunderstorm had suddenly burst through the clouds like a gust of wind. The patrol had not returned to the camp by dawn; Shadowstar was clearly concerned. Fogpelt patiently waited until Shadowstar had finished speaking with Sandclaw, then bounded over towards the leader, still nervous.
She shifted her gaze to the ground.
"I wanted to apologize for almost attacking you this morning." She cautiously glanced back up at her leader. Immediately she noticed that Shadowstar looked confused.
"What was that?" She asked. Fogpelt repeated her apology; Shadowstar still looked confused.
"Remember, this morning when you were at the fresh-kill pile and I almost . . . "
"You must be mistaken, Fogpelt. No need for apology. I wasn't even out of my den this morning, or last night for that matter."
Fogpelt was startled, and her eyes grew slightly wider.
"You mean, that wasn't you?" she questioned, trailing off. There was no other Clanmate of hers who had a black pelt, unless it was just the dark light that had made it appear that way. But Fogpelt remembered the colorful branch of the willow tree that she had seen instead of her leader the night before.
Shadowstar shook her head.
"You were probably dreaming, Fogpelt. Anyways, please go with Sandclaw's search group." Shadowstar turned back to Sandclaw, discussing other buisness.
Fogpelt simply nodded mutely and turned back to Snowwind.

[thornclaw]

Chapter 3 - StarClan's Silence

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The rain was still pelting to the earth as the slender outline of a feline was blackened against a dark sky. It ran hastily through a muddy clearing littered with sticks and moss; its drenched tail drooped, almost skimming the earth. Near the edge of tree-encircled clearing, next to a low depression in the ground which was sheltered by a red manzanita bush, the cat paused. Then it slipped into the hole below the manzanita shrub and disappeared from the clearing.
The den had remained sandy despite the pouring rain outside. Several weeds grew up along the hole’s entrance, but they diminished into the darkness towards the back of the den. It was slightly large. To any human it certainly would’ve been odd - a numerous variety of herbs, berries, flowers, roots, and small shrubs had been stored in little shelf-like inclinations in the den. But to the cats, it was a place of sanctuary - a medicine cats den. Strange yet somehow comforting smells of healing plants drifted up to reach the cat’s nose as it made its way towards the darker, deep part of the earthy den. From the dim light a small, creamy-colored dark blue and swirled white cat emerged. The rain above the den was still loud - almost like a lion’s roar - but the medicine cat’s soft pawsteps were almost inaudible anyways. As it appeared the ebony-colored cat dipped its head in respect - a thing of great honor, especially if this gesture were coming from a leader. The other cat nodded back in return, keeping its eyes fixed on the pebbly ground once they were there. The leader (the ebony-colored one) kept its gaze fixed on the blue and white cat with a question lurking in its eyes.
“StarClan is silent,” the medicine cat spoke softly as it answered its leader’s unspoken question.
“Still?” the leader murmured, deeply disappointed. Her tail wrapped around her forepaw as she sat on her haunches.
The other feline nodded gravely.
“I don’t understand, Dawnheart. What did we do wrong? Where did we go wrong?” asked Thornstar (for that was her name) anxiously. The tip of her short-haired tail twitched not because of anger, but of confusion.
“I do not know what is wrong.”
For a moment neither spoke and all that could be heard was the ever-pounding rain, which was almost sleet now. Dawnheart was remembering how she had recently taken a trip to Moonstone when she had not heard from StarClan. Thornstar had desperately tried the same, but in vain.
At the next Great Meeting with the other Clans, neither of them would show weakness by inquiring of others after StarClan’s - certainly not. But the apprehension had waxed until it plagued Dawnheart endlessly, almost like a tick, but much, much worse. Thornstar’s conscience had gnawed at her, too. She had tried long and hard to remember something which might’ve been upsetting to her ancestors, but that proved useless as well.
“What was the last thing they conveyed?” Thornstar questioned with a tiny ray of hope working its way into her anguished soul. If she had known the answer, chances are she would not have asked.
Dawnheart’s orbs, which had once been playfully blue and bright, were downcast and distraught as she answered.
“It was hard to understand.”
In answer Thornstar’s eyes as well as her curiosity grew; she shifted her gaze to the den’s entrance as if something unbidden would drop down it any second. She turned her attention back to Dawnheart. The medicine cat’s eyes were still glazed with a thin film and fixed on the ground. Drawing a breath, she continued.
“From what I understood, StarClan was not angry. In fact. . .” she trailed off, faltering a little. “In fact, they seemed distant. Not in this way - the way things are now - but in a different way.”
As if they were in an anxious hurry – or . . . preoccupied, thought Dawnheart silently to herself. She didn’t want to add to Thornstar’s troubles: she had enough as it was. She kept her inward suspicions unspoken. And she did not recount what she had seen in her dream, either. It came flooding back to her. . .

A bright, warm sun was well above the peaks of the mountains as Dawnheart woke in her dream. The sky was a swirling blue; the trees and their leaves were a strange, unearthly color and everything was blurred as things often were in dreams - at least Dawnheart’s. Not knowing where she was, but not caring (as this was a dream and she did not know it), she strode along a sandy hollow near a steep and rocky cliff. Several birds chirped and their songs echoed vaguely in the distance as the medicine cat paced through the sand, enjoying the warm pebbles under her paws. The sun’s warm rays penetrated through the sky and heated her pelt. Though the soft, hazy shapes of colors in her dream were definitely blurry, she could vaguely make out dark thunderclouds in the sky. At first she took them for large birds - but was mistaken. As suddenly as the sun sets, the thunder head clouds covered the sun and shadows quickly fell across the cliff’s edge, which was high above Dawnheart. If you’ve ever been sitting peacefully in the sun, but suddenly felt the rays disappear and a cold breeze slap your face, you’ll know exactly how Dawnheart felt - except much, much more afraid. Even as the clouds became opaque, covering the sun like a blanket, thunder rumbled sharply in the distance. Dawnheart broke into a run; she didn’t know where to, but all the same she let her paws take her away from the cooling sand. Faster and faster . . . her small paws pounded in the sand, sometimes slipping and falling. Everything became so hazy at once that when they finally cleared she halted with a jolt, and almost meowed out in terror: she had come to the edge of a cliff. Several more pawsteps and she would’ve been thrown over. Thunder rumbled once more, this time more closely, and Dawnheart flinched as a raindrop hit her nose unexpectedly. An icy feeling crept up to her throat; she gasped for breath and pulled herself to a halt, still panting. Another freezing raindrop landed on her pelt, and several others fell until hundreds were falling subsequently. Dawnheart’s mettle diminished further as she whirled round to see that the sandy and broad plain which she had recently been running across had vanished. Upon glancing around all sides of her, she realized with a choking feeling that she was perched upon a short catwalk of a cliff. The darkened sky lit up as a flash of lightning split through the sky. Dawnheart’s paw slipped and for a moment her heart was caught in her throat until she placed her paw back upon the cliff’s ledge, still trembling from the shock.
“StarClan!” she whispered hoarsely, “StarClan. . . !"
Nothing replied but another crash of lightning; once again the sky was lit up and illuminated the cliff’s edge. Cowering like a frightened kit, Dawnheart pressed her belly to the cold ground below her. Though it was a dream, she did not know it (as one often does not know in dreams that they are dreaming). She wished fervently that she was back at the camp, safely tucked away and concealed from the thunder and drumming rain in her den. She didn’t know how long she crept there, but all the time she heard the storm growing worse.
When she dared to raise her eyes, she found herself gazing over the top of the precipice into the dark shadows of trees beyond. Then, all at once, a blurry silver-white figure surrounded with a blanket of swirling colors approached her. It was hard to make out, but Dawnheart recognized a cat - some StarClan cat. Dazed, the medicine cat lowered her muzzle to the ground and stared in awe at the other, who seemed to be walking across the air. Whirling darkness was pushed back by the silver figure. Dawnheart hoped that the other cat - or spirit - would come to her. It was in the distance, and she couldn’t make out its visage. But it did not approach her. It might’ve been just Dawnheart, but it seemed to her that some invisible force was holding it back. However, it did speak. Its voice was gentle and soft, but she could almost hint fear in it.
“Dawnheart,” it murmured. The sound of its meow was carried away by the biting cold wind; Dawnheart strained her ears forward to hear it.
“StarClan is always with you.” Its voice was merely above a whisper now. “Time is short . . . for all.” The voice echoed strangely in Dawnheart’s ears. “Take great caution of those who are not what they appear to be. Those who are false.” Dawnheart could tell by the strain in its voice that its message was important. Knowing now that this was a dream - a vision - sent by StarClan, Dawnheart took the opportunity to shout back.
“I don’t understand!” she yowled over the howling wind, hoping the warrior could hear her.
“We are sorry. I cannot explain this any more simply. Time is short . . . for all.”
An eerie feeling tore down Dawnheart’s spine and she shivered all the more: the swirling black darkness lashed at the silver figure’s blurry form.
“Have courage, beloved.” The growing darkness enveloped more than half of the silver cat’s figure. Dawnheart’s mouth turned dry and she hoarsely began to shout out another question when the warrior was blotted out altogether and she woke. . .

“Thornstar!”
A loud shout from the clearing snapped the medicine cat out of her recalling of her vision.
Dawnheart jerked her muzzle upward toward the den’s opening; Thornstar abruptly scrambled to her paws and turned around, trotting forwards. She placed her paws on the moist dirt and thrust her head above the hole’s opening. For a moment Dawnheart heard only loud shouts of several cats, punctuated by whimpering mews – kitten’s mews. Dawnheart immediately rose tot her paws and was about to inquire as to the noise when Thornstar thudded to the ground and backed, making room for whomever was in the clearing. The dim shafts of light flickered and waved; a brown warrior dropped softly to the earth inside. As he moved aside another warrior descended to the den - Swiftclaw. A tiny white muzzle with glittering blue eyes peered into the den: obviously Pearlpaw.
The warriors both carried a small, drenched little kit clamped in their jaws. One of them was a smoky grey kitten with large azure orbs and had a slender build. The other was much larger than his sister. His pelt was a darker black than Thornstar’s; his pupils narrow and green, and more intelligent looking than the other’s. He was also large for a kit – or apprentice, or whatever age he was. Either way you looked at it, the tom-kit would be an extraordinarily large feline at the age of a warrior.
Both kits had stopped mewing by now, finding that they were safe in the earthy den. Now they stared around mutely and stopped wriggling in the grasps of the warriors. Swiftclaw and Earthpelt set them down carefully as Thornstar and Dawnheart glanced quickly from kit to kit, silently demanding an explanation.
“We – Swiftclaw and Pearlpaw and I - had just gone on patrol, Thornstar,” panted Earthpelt hurriedly, "- and we were at Maple Clearing when I heard a sound. It must have been these kits, I am sure. It sounded unlike anything I had ever heard before –"
"Like, ‘Eeeeeeee!’" offered Swiftclaw in a shrill and eerie meow. He was serious, but Earthpelt shot him a warning glance and the other warrior shut his jaws sullenly.
"Anyways," continued Earthpelt, flicking his tail toward Swiftclaw, "we heard that noise. We ran to the Old Gardens – that was where the sound was coming from – and we found these kits."
As if in warning, a loud shock of thunder boomed outside, illuminating the part of the den. A moment later Pearlpaw hastened into the den and curled up beside her mentor.
"They are not ForestClan's kits, I can see that," observed Thornstar as she scrutinized the kits’ countenances. "But they don’t smell of any other Clans – or rogues, loners, or kittypets – unless I have overlooked anything."
"They do not smell of anything: you are correct, Thornstar." Dawnheart emerged from the shadows and opened her jaws, straining to scent anything on the kits besides wet fur. The tiny gray she-kit pressed close to the ground and stared at Thornstar. The leader nodded at Dawnheart’s words, still keeping her gaze on the kits.
"I will keep them in my den; it seems they need a good drying off and some food." Dawnheart moved over to the traumatized she-kit and licked her ear comfortingly.
"Yes, of course." Thornstar approved. "All right, everyone needs to depart to their dens. I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll see about these kits, Dawnheart. We all need a night’s sleep." She got to her paws, knowing that ‘a night’s sleep’ meant a troubled and dreadful doze for herself. The others, clearly exhausted, leapt stiffly out of the den after a few grateful words to Dawnheart and Thornstar. Thornstar glanced apprehensively at the two frightened kits before bidding Dawnheart good night and leaping up out of the den into the freezing sheets of rain.
The kittens huddled together closely near a shelf of herbs in the wall. The ebony one wrapped a larger tail around his sister, licking her tiny ear reassuringly as he had done in the forest. Dawnheart immediately prepared several soothing herbs and mixed them with a tender mouse from recesses of the den for the kits. But, when prodded, only the gray kitten ate a few mouthfuls. The other seemed excessively disturbed as his important-looking greenish eyes traced the curves of the den. Finally, the two kittens sank wearily into a troubled yet deep sleep.

And Dawnheart wondered.

[*Simply Seasle*]

This is so good!!!!!!!!!

[thornclaw]

Thankiesh, Seapaw! ;D
I'm glad you liked it . . . Thanks for reading it.