Enter the Mountains

This story is about a group of 5 rogues that meet randomly, not when they are expecting it at all, to become allies with the somewhat friendly Tribe of Rushing Water.

Prologue
Starlight shimmered on a puddle, glittering like crystals. A shadowy pelt sat face-to-face with an old tom. the translucent spirit sat peacefully around the water source. An angry yowl cut the air.

"You aren't telling me anything!" the old, battle-scarred tom yowled. He slammed his paw into the water.

"The Tribe of Endless Hunting cannot give answers," the shadowy spirit mewed, "we can only give prophecies."

"Well do you have one for me?" the tome mewed crossly.

The shadowy spirit dipped his head, "There will be one who will become five, and they will destroy the power of darkness."

"What is that supposed to mean?" the old tom asked, but the starry cat was melting into the shadows, "Hey! I wasn't finished!" his voice was drowned out by the echoes of his yowls, "I deserve to know!"

Chapter 1: Starting Point
The moon floated in the sky, shining on the blades of grass. The silver strands danced in the brezze, and the faint hoots of owls echoed in the distance.

A brown tabby pelt merged with the reeds, blending in so that it looked as if it were one. The cat stalked through the mini-jungle, in pursuit of prey. It looked around, blue eyes glittering in the moonlight.

A rustling noise in the bulrushed made the cat's ears flick. She turned her head to spot a squirrl from the nearby forest nibbling a seed. The cat crouched, and set a light paw forward, only to carck a stick. The squirrel shot away, and the cat gave chase.

They weaved through he reeds, her eyes shining as she pelted after the squirrel. It strided through the marsh, taking long leaps as it attempted to escape. Then, it let out a screech as the cat caught up, biting down on it's tail. The squirrel tripped, and the cat bit down hard on it's neck, the screech cut of abruptly as the crack of bone exploded into the world, leaving an echo shadowing behind it.

"A squirrel," she mewed, "easy prey for Hawk."

Hawk bent down to gobble up it's meal, but stopped in mid-bend as another rustling sounded up. She turned her head, leaving her prey as she stood up. She whirled around as it sounded again.

"Hello?" she called into the reeds, "Who's there?"

No cat showed. Instead, the rustling became louder.

"Show yourself!"

The rustling stopped. Hawk waited, pausing, then shrugged and turned to her prey again. But when she turned, her prey was gone.

She whirled around to find a cat with a dead squirrel in it's jaws, "Hey!" she snapped, "That's mine!"

The cat let out a hiss, it's gray, dappled pelt shinig silver in the moonlight. It dropped the prey and lunged for Kawk's throat, but she dodged away just in time to rake her claws down the enemy's flank. The cat whirled around and lunged again, stopping mid-lunge and then swiping Hawks muzzle. Hawk fell backward, dazed at the cat's hard blows.

"Mine now!" the cat snatched the squirrel and bounded away.

Blood oozed from the wound. Hawk licked her whiskers. "Fox dung!" she spat after the opponent. She slumped to the ground, preyless once again. She glared at the crushed reeds where the silver cat had raced away.

She ain't getting my prey without putting up a fight!

Hawk raced as fast as she could, following the scent trail the cat left behind. She weaved through the reeds into the forest and, soon enough the scent disappeared into the water.

Mouse-dung!

Unhappily, she leaped into the water. Kicking out with her back legs and churning the water with her front paws, she swam throught the water. It tugged awkwardly at her fur as she sniffed every lilypad she passed. A ring of water formed where a frog had leaping into the water.

She took a deep breath and dived down into the water. She rippled like a fish as she swam in the depths, icy-cold drops clung to her fur as she climbed out of the water. She shook away the clear drops.

She sniffed the grass. No scent. She whirled around pacing around the pond. She stopped in a reed bed and slunk down. She sighed, fur plastered to her skin.

Suddenly, she felt something hard land on her head. She looked down to see a bone beside her whisker. She sniffed it. Squirrel.

Hawk looked up and saw a gray pelt on a branch. It was that cat who stole her prey. She stood up and stealthily walked away, padding behind the tree. She clawed her way up the trunk carefully, scrabbling onto the nearest branch until she reached the cat. It hardly noticed

"Hey you!" she growled. That cat craned it's neck, but noticed too slow as Hawk swatted it off the tree. It let out a screech, the remains of the squirrel fell after the cat. It landed nimbly on it's paws, but staggered to the ground as the carcass of the squirrel fell on it's head.

Hawk jumped down the branches, the safer way, to the ground and trotted to the silver cat. The silver cat sat up, rubbing it's forehead with it's paw. She lunged for the cat and pinned it to the ground.

"You realize you stole my prey you mangy piece of crow-food!" she spat at the cat.

"Well it was juicy and fat and perfect," the cat, a she-cat, meowed mockingly.

"What's your name?" Hawk demanded.

Th cat paused, then answered; "Rain."