Willowfern stared at the walls of the warriors' den, thinking about the message from Starclan, and her sister's words. Was she really part of a prophecy? If Maplefrost was awake, she wasn't showing any signs of it. Willowfern sighed and wondered if she should wait until the next day to consult with her sister about it. It wouldn't do her any good to fall asleep on her paws the next day. She curled up in her nest, and went to sleep.
"Now, let's play Attack Mossclan," said Leopardkit, bouncing up and down, and flexing his claws at Cloudkit and Redkit. It was almost the first time Willowfern had waken up after dawn. She could not fall asleep the night before, and had stayed up late, unable to clear her mind of the prophecy. She looked around. Who else could be part of it other than she or Maplefrost. Her eyes wandered to Pinefur, made warrior only about four moons before her. His dark grey stomach fur, the black streaks of his pelt, his piercing amber eyes...She shook her head, angry with herself. There was no time for a mate, if this prophecy was true. Unless he was the third cat in the prophecy. Again, she shook herself, trying to clear her head of Pinefur. Thistletail, her former mentor, padded up to her, looking concerned.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yes, I-I'm just tired, that's all," she stammered.
" You're always up early, and today you were the last one in camp. And just now, you looked like you had a flea in your pelt. If you're just tired, then have a rest. But if you start to feel sick, you know where the medicine den is." Willowfern nodded, her pelt burning with embarrasment. She already had enough to deal with without Thistletail worried about her. If the prophecy was going to cause her this much trouble, then how could she last until she fulfilled it? And why was it given to her?