User blog:Forestpaw13/The Cats with the Shining Eyes - I Think

This is something I'm attempting... lol, anyway... I have a weird writing style. This is the prologue, enjoy, please leave feedback, love you guys... When the past calls,   ignore him.  He has nothing new to say. 02:40, June 11, 2011 (UTC)

The Cats with the Shining Eyes - Prologue
It began on a rather warm day in the middle of greenleaf.

Fernflower was in the medicine den, caring for a cat with a small cold. As she was telling him to rest, she felt the warning pains in her belly.

"Excuse me," she mewed politely, "I have to go find my sister..." Fernflower left, trying to act normal, weaving her way through the cats, searching desperately to find her sister.

"For StarClan's sake, Brittleclaw," she hissed to herself, "where are you!"

When she poked her head into the warrior's den, Brittleclaw looked up.

"I need you for a second," Fernflower said, trying to convey the message that she was about to give birth through her gaze.

Brittleclaw understood. "Alright," she mewed, standing up and stretching before approaching. "Let's get this over with."

Fernflower led Brittleclaw to the medicine den, where the cold patient was still waiting.

"You're okay," Brittleclaw said curtly. "Go back to the warrior's den, and take care not to spread that cold."

Fernflower began, despite her fear and her pains, to gather the herbs she would need during the birth process. She remained silent throughout the procedures.

"How many?" Brittleclaw asked quietly from her position in the entrance of the den.

"Too many," Fernflower groaned in reply. "Let's go."

Brittleclaw led the medicine cat through the camp, to the entrance.

The two sisters pushed their way out, ignoring the stares that they earned. Fernflower was trying to make herself look normal, but the kits inside her wanted to escape the jail that was her womb.

"Hurry," she whispered, and she and Brittleclaw raced through the forest as fast as Fernflower would dare.

The birthplace had already been chosen: a hollow beneath a tree close to the lake. Moss padded its edges.

Fernflower collapsed within it. She groaned in pain.

"Alright," Brittleclaw began, "what do I do?"

Fernflower's eyes widened with fear. Out of all the things they had prepared over the last two moons, this was the thing they had forgotten. Brittleclaw knowing how to assist in the birth process was essential to the safety of the kits within Fernflower's womb.

"No," Fernflower screeched as a kit began to make its way out to the outside world.

Brittleclaw recognized the pain. She had given birth before, and although her kits were stillborn, she knew enough. "Alright," she mewed. "Fernflower, breathe. It'll be over soon."

A kit fell into the world, and Brittleclaw paused. She hadn't the heart to tell her sister that her firstborn was stillborn.

Fernflower understood, and her eyes clouded with more pain. "Here comes another one," she moaned.

Brittleclaw had a sickening thought: what if her sister was killed giving birth?

Another kit pushed its way into the world, and it was alive. Brittleclaw nipped at the birthing sack and began to lick; the kit squealed and squirmed closer to its mother.

Fernflower let another screech fly from her throat. This was the most pain she had ever experienced.

As another kit was pushed through, Fernflower cried, "Give me something for the pain!"

Brittleclaw turned away from the kit to look at the pile of plants beside her. She grabbed what looked right and shoved it into her sister's mouth.

"No," Fernflower moaned. "Not that much..."

Her eyes glazed over.

Brittleclaw had expected this. With trembling claws, she cut into Fernflower's flesh, drawing a long scratch. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

She hid the stillborn kit, took the living ones, and began her journey back to camp. She had to carry each kit a distance before going back for the other, and in this way- making progress and being forced to retreat her steps- she made her way back to safety.

"I found these kits," Brittleclaw mewed hollowly to the staring cats. "Their mother was nowhere to be found."

A nursing queen stepped forward. "Give them to me, Brittleclaw. I will nurse them, but you will name them."

Naming kits. A responsibility that nobody deserved more than Brittleclaw, but Brittleclaw loathed it. The last time she had names prepared, her kits were stillborn.

She still remembered them. Two of them, and they fit these kits perfectly.

The first, a scraggly-looking light brown tabby tom, Brittleclaw named Cedarkit. She spoke his name out loud, so the Clan would hear it. Inside her body, her heart pounded like never before.

The second, a blazing ginger tom that could only resemble his father, Brittleclaw called Flamekit. She also spoke his name out loud, but it was with a choke that she finished the name.

"Also," she breathed, "Fernflower is dead."

The cats gathered around the pool, their unblinking eyes staring into the deepest waters in existance.

This was the Starpool, known for its reflective abilities upon the Clans and their futures. It was the responsibility of the cats around it to deliver the message in a way that would not effect the living cat's motives.

There was a new cat in the ranks tonight. Her brown tabby pelt blended in among the others.

"I have seen the future of the Clans," one cat said solemnly. This was not spoken against; the cat was well-known for his sight.

"There are two," the cat began, his voice echoing around the clearing, "who face destinies I can forsee."

The cats all strained to hear.

The cat's voice became hoarse as he related the prophecy. "The forest will fall, but the fires will blaze."

"No!" a she-cat's voice rang out. "This is not possible. I have seen that this fire you are speaking of will eventually be put out by the Clans."

"And it will return," the first cat snapped back. "Do not doubt me. I have seen this. The prophecy will be delivered to the medicine cat tonight."

"The medicine cat is dead," a voice called out.

"I have seen her," the cat snapped. "She had an apprentice, am I not correct?"

A she-cat's hollow voice replied, "You are correct."

"Jayfeather-" another cat towards the back began, but he was cut off.

"I will deliver the prophecy at the next half-moon. The Clans must prepare."

In the shadows was a dark tabby tom. His amber eyes gleamed with anticipation. Through the mourning of the medicine cat, killed by a fox, he had a chance.

The nine lives would be his.

The leader sat above all the cats, mourning in his own way. His eyes were unusually dull, even for his old age.

"You'll see her again soon," the tom mumbled to himself. He began to creep up the cliff, but a cat saw him first.

"Pay your respects for your sister," one called.

"I already have," the deputy called back. He didn't have time for this, it had to be done now.

The cat nodded and turned away, back to their vigil.

The leader saw me as I approached. "I am weary," he whispered to the deputy. "Fernflower, dead? What will we do about Leafpaw?"

"Leafpaw is nearly ready," the deputy reassured the leader. "I'm sure we can find a way to train her. I will, if you want."

The leader nodded.

With that, he takes take his chance. He unsheaths his claws, and drives them into the leader's shoulder.

His corpse falls over and hits the ground below.

He was leader now.