One cat may make a discovery that could threaten the lives of every clan.
A large, well-muscled she-cat sits at the mouth of a small cave, looking down on a forest clearing. A gentle, warm wind presses lightly against her long, pale ginger fur as she watches four kits play-fight in the middle of the clearing. After a few more minutes, she gets up and leaps down into the clearing.
At once, all four kits break apart, staring up at her with scared, wide eyes.
"C-Cinderstar?" One of them stammered. He was a small, dark brown tabby tom with a white paw and blue eyes.
"D-did we... did we do something wrong?" His sister, a tan she-cat with dark brown paws, asked.
Cinderstar shook her head, smiling down at the kits. "No, no, little ones. You did absolutely nothing wrong, dears. I just wanted to say hello to your mother and father." She explained, pointing her tail in the direction of them. All four kits nodded and scrambled out of her way, staring after her with wide eyes as she padded away.
"Hello, Cinderstar." Windwhisper, the mother of the four kits, mewed. Her mate, Brackenfire, dipped his head as a gesture of loyalty.
"Greetings, Windwhisper and Brackenfire." She responded. "How nice to see you both. If we could talk in private, I'd most certainly appreciate it." She added in a low whisper.
The two young warriors nodded and led her into the nursery. It was a dark and warm den that smelled strongly of milk, but it was empty. Windwhisper sat down in a large nest made out of moss and bracken and waited expectantly for her to speak. She waited until Brackenfire was settled down, then began.
She sighed slightly, and then spoke. "Your kits... your kits are part of a prophecy."