When a mysterious new threat finds it's way into the heart of RiverClan, they look to StarClan for guidance. But the warrior ancestors have been silent for seasons, and the clans around the lake are beginning to lose their nerve and become worried about their anscestors. It's up to Pondtail to find a way to save her clan, and maybe her StarClan anscestors, without any prophecies or help.
But is it really her destiny to save the clans?
Every cat knew not to cross the border out of clan territory alone.
They all knew how dangerous it was, to be attacked by badgers and foxes with no support. They all knew how easy it was to die outside the clans, alone and away from their clanmates. But there was the odd cat, every once in a while, who had a taste for adventure and danger.
Brushpaw squinted in the force of the wind rolling over the slopes of the moor. It seemed unusually strong, as if some cat was trying to stop him from leaving tonight. StarClan? Ridiculous. StarClan haven't been around for moons. He told himself. If they cared about him, they would have done more for WindClan this leaf-bare, instead of letting them resort to stealing prey like rogues.
Brushpaw was tired of the constant squabbling for food and warmth. His clan was falling apart around him, and he didn't want any part of it. He longed to be on his own for a while, away from the voice of his mentor and mother, free from their attempts to calm him. He didnt need to be calmed. He needed to save his Clan.
Maybe that was really why he was out tonight, climbing the slope away from clan territory. Brushpaw told himself he just wanted a taste of outside air, some time alone. But maybe all he really wanted as the glory of being a hero. Brushpaw shook the thought from his head and looked over his shoulder. The camp was no longer in sight, and he didn't recognise the land he now stood on.
I've done it! I'm not in clan territory anymore! He squeaked in his mind, excitemind filling him from ears to paws. Brushpaw skipped a little on his feet, suddenly feeling proud and confident.
He walked for a while longer, until the sun was coming up in the sky. I'd better be going back soon. Brushpaw decided. What were the older cats telling him about? He hadn't met a single badger or fox, and there were no Twoleg villaige in sight. All the stories were lies! It was perfectly safe out here! They could hunt here!
I've saved my clan! Brushpaw was filled with pride. Wait til I tell them about this!
He spun on his paws, excited to get back home. He walked in the direction he was sure he came from. It felt like a much longer walk than the one to get here...Brushpaw realised he didn't recognise his surroundings. I can't be lost! I have to help my clan!
Panicked now, Brushpaw ran in every direction, searching for any landmarks he'd seen on his way here. In doing so, he just tangled himself further into the web of paths to take, until there were too many threads and he was lost forever..
Pondtail stretched, her sharp claws catching in the ground and deepening the stretch in her paws. She bent out of the position with a groan. Her legs ached fiercely and she deeply regretted training for most of the night before.
"Pondtail!" A meow sounded from the river nearby. Pondtail waved her long tail in the air to let the other cat know her location. Seconds later, a ball of orange fur came hurtling through the undergrowth and barreled into the gray she-cat's side.
Pondtail meowed indignantly, and pinned the orange tom beneath her paws so she could look him in the eye. His green eyes sparkled with mischief and shed a light into her golden ones.
"Streampelt," Pondtail spoke to the orange tom, not letting him up and trying to fight against the urge to laugh at the way he looked at her. "Aren't you supposed to be on patrol right now?"
Streampelt's eyes turned serious, and he cocked his head. "Minnowstar called all the patrols back not long ago, I came to find you."
Pondtail hopped off Streampelt, and he shook out his fur. What could be this important? She thought, Minnowstar NEVER calls back patrols!
She flicked her tail. "Come on then, we'd better go, sounds urgent.". Her mind was overcast with a weird mixture of curiosity and worry. Streampelt nodded at her, and pushed his way back through the bushes lining the river.
The pair made their way back to camp. They were greeted by their worried looking, some impatient, Clanmates. Minnowstar was speaking in hushed, urgent whispers to the WindClan deputy, Moorfoot. He turned around to look at Pondtail and Streampelt.
"Ah, finally, you two are here. We can start." He sighed, almost sounding relieved. This was not something he seemed to want to drag out.
Pondtail hurried to sit down. She sat herself at a corner of the camp, somewhere where she could hear what was being said, but could also whisper to Streampelt, who sat beside her, without disturbing any cat.
It was a surprise to everyone when Minnowstar began the meeting without calling the cats, as was tradition.
"WindClan has asked me to address you today," Minnowstar began. Pondtail watched as Moorfoot flicked her tail, as if annoyed by what the RiverClan leader had just said. "To cut things short, Galestar's son, Brushpaw, has gone missing."
Shocked whispers flooded through the gathered clan like a tidal wave. Brushpaw was somewhat infamous in the four clans. His risky and over-dramatic personality was one rarely seen in the Clans at the moment. The strangest characteristic of him though, was that he was supposed to be special to StarClan.
Of course they only had WindClan's word for it, but cats said that at birth Brushpaw was surrounded by three past WindClan leaders, Tallstar Onestar and Harestar. It was said that they told Galestar and her mate that he was of great importance to StarClan. There was no reason to believe this, except that every cat felt it in their pelt, like StarClan was ordering them to believe it.
Pondtail could hardly believe her ears. The one cat who WindClan must protect at all costs, was missing?
Minnowstar delivered instructions to tell some cat immediately if Brushpaw was sighted, and the meeting disbanded. Most cats were even too shaken to take the fresh-kill from the pile, caught just before the meeting.
Pondtail shook out her fur, noticing the way it stood on end, and smoothed it out. Streampelt looked one-hundred percent scared. His usually cheerful green gaze was clouded with worry.
"Pondtail, what do you think is going to happen now?" He asked quietly.
Pondtail flicked her tail dismissively. "Probably nothing. He's just a cat after all."
But inside, her stomach lurched with worry. The cat the four Clans had been ordered to protect was gone. What was going to happen now that a cat blessed by StarClan was gone?