Prologue - The prophecy
Dark clouds covered the sky as droplets of rain splattered against the damp earth and moss-covered rocks. The chill of leaf-fall lingers in the air, creeping beneath every cat's skin as the cold winds sweep through the woods, shaking off what’s left of the fallen leaves. The creak of the bare branches was the only sound echoing in the silence of the night. Nettlefern shuffled out of his den, he had been working tirelessly to keep Amberheart alive, but it wasn’t looking to good. Wisteriastar gazed up at the glowing dots in the sky, silently praying to StarClan that her sister would survive the fox attack. She watched as Nettlefern approached, wrapping her tail around her feet to keep them warm as she sat on an old tree stump in the middle of the clearing.
“How is she?” Wisteriastar asked. NettleFern sat in front of her, just below the tree stump.
“I’m not sure yet if she will make it, I’ve done all I could,” Nettlefern replied lightly, though not trying to sugarcoat anything, “Her life is in the paws of Starclan now.”
She looked away, deep in thought. She was so completely focused on her sister that she didn’t even seem to mind the heavy droplets soaking her creme-colored fur.
“She just needs rest,” He spoke up again after the long moment of silence, “Rest always does every cat well. Speaking of rest, you need some.”
Wisteriastar shook her head, “How can you expect me to rest after an incident like this.” She said with an edge to her tone. “So much is going on right now, foxes on our territory, Canyonclan becoming so demanding with their request of more territory from Breezeclan, and the dirty rogues that keep hunting in our territory.” Nettlefern climbed next to her onto the stump, pressing her nose into her neck fur. It was true, those rogues found Willowclan and their territory an excellent target for not only plump prey but also to quench their thirst for blood. “It's just so hard to know what to do.”
“Take it one step at a time, you can’t always know what to do, starclan doesn’t even always know– but they are here when they find out.” He spoke, sitting down next to her. “LittleBird and SmokeHaze scared the fox onto Canyonclan territory, it's their problem now. Maybe they can focus on that instead of focusing on trying to claim BreezeClans territory.”
She nodded, feeling a small sense of comfort from the medicine cat's words. “You’re right. We have to make sure we’re strong enough to fend off the rogues if they attempt another attack. Maybe then they will finally leave us alone.” She closed her eyes tightly. “I wish starclan would help.”
Nettlefern watched as dark, thick clouds traveled across the moon. As she was about to open his mouth to reply, the rain suddenly turned ice cold. The fur on his blueish pelt prickled as the cold swept from the tip of his nose to his tail. The stars felt close and glowed against his fur, the ends of each strand feeling like it was connected to the bright dots above. When the moon was uncovered again the light shone against his eyes. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as the fur on his back settled down. “As smog fills the sky and the storm breaks, its shadow will rise to protect the light.” He managed to muster up.
Wisteriastar glanced over at him with a mixture of confusion and hope. “What? What's that supposed to mean?” She asked, feeling her frustration come back. These were stressful times not only for her, the clan, but also the whole forest.
“A cat is to save us,” Nettlefern replied, trying to calm himself down from the sudden and overwhelming feeling of cold. “Just who… or what is the question.”
“I wanted Starclan to help, not add to the confusion.” She snapped, “And you aren’t helping either.”
He noticed her frustration and stress seeping into her reactions. “Don’t worry.” He reassured, “Let me fetch you some poppy seeds so you can get some rest.”
Wisteriastar sighed and reluctantly agreed despite the slight shake in her head. “Wake me up if there's any news about Amberhear okay?” She ordered.
Nettlefern nodded and jumped off the tree stump, padding across the clearing and disappearing through the bracken covering the medicine den. The prophecy was stuck in her mind as she tried to decipher what it meant in her head.