#mothfoot

The sky was clear for the first time in days, allowing the half moon to shine through. The grounds of FunLand were light. A handsome tom with a yellow pelt sat at the heart-shaped entrance to the tunnel where he and his fellow Medicine cats would meet. It had been three whole moons since they’d met. StarClan had things to tell them, he was sure of it.

FunLand had been dealt damage by the storms, not enough to destroy the landscape but enough to throw trees and uproot bushes. Cats had died, food was scarce. But after a half of a moon of clear skies, the cats were starting to recover. He turned over his shoulder as he heard the approach of another cat. “Ticketleaf,” the she-cat gasped, “It is so good to see you.”

The she-cat was very pretty, a soft cream color with dark brown paws. Her beautiful eyes shone in the dark and she slid next to the tom. She nodded. “I thank StarClan we can see each other this Half-Moon, Mothfoot,” Ticketleaf purred.

“Certainly this is a wonderful sign.” Another cat, louder and older, whispered on the air.

“Mushroombranch, how is the prey running?” Mothfoot asked.

“Much better, thank you,” Mushroombranch sighed, “The wind has died down.”

“All is better then,” Ticketleaf said with a smile.

“Not all.” The last medicine cat, a ragged, slender ginger she-cat approached. She seemed exhausted, her eyes heavy with lack of sleep.

“Foxpool? What’s wrong?” Mushroombranch asked. Foxpool shook her head. Her blind eyes stared back at the cats.

“Dartstar and Blackbelly are dead.” The cats gasped loudly.

“Both your leader and deputy?” Mothfoot wailed, “Oh no!”

“It’s alright,” she huffed, “StarClan spoke to me. We have a new leader.” She closed her eyes. “Our leader is now Ringstar.” Ticketleaf closed his own eyes.

“The young tom you just announced three moons ago as a new warrior?!” Mothfoot gasped.

“StarClan spoke,” Foxpool repeated, “It showed me a ring with a star in the center. All was clear.” The cats murmered softly, nodding.

“Let’s go,” Mushroombranch grumbled. The cats slipped onto one of the boats that was in the entrance of the tunnel. Twolegs had left this sacred place for them long ago. The water was murky and the tunnel was dark as anything. Old, rusted twolegs stood in embracing positions and old hearts were scattered about. It was an odd place, but the sacred tunnel for their meetings with StarClan. Ticketleaf took the lead until the cats hit the place they wanted.

In the center of the tunnel with boats surrounding it was a giant heart. It was pink in color and just as broken and rusted as the others. But above it was a hole in the tunnel. Moonlight washed the heart in shimmering light. The cats nodded to each other. On each side of the heart they placed their noses to it.

In a flash of light and a small amount of pain, the four cats found themselves together on the sunkissed plains of StarClan. They looked at each other. “A shared dream?” Mothfoot whispered.

“Look!” Foxpool pointed, reminding the rest of the cats she could see in her dreams. Approaching the cats were four, strong powerful cats. Two she-cats strod beside two toms, heads held high. When the four got closer, Ticketleaf let out a gasp.

“Tentstar!” Tentstar, the founding leader of TentClan, was a powerful white with fiery red eyes. Next to him were the other founders. Funstar, a lithe black she-cat covered in scars. Waterstar, a beautiful grey and black she-cat with long fur. Lastly, Ridestar, a handsome ginger tom.

“Medicine cats of the clans,” he said, “We come to you with a prophecy.”

“Does it have anything to do with the storm?” Foxpool blurted out. The other cats winced. Foxpool could be quite impulsive. The leaders shook their heads.

“No but the clans must work together to clean the storm,” Funstar said, “Keep yourselves from battle and arguments. The clans must unite if they are going to survive the aftermath of this storm.”

“That storm is over, but another is just beginning,” Waterstar said. In unison, the cats spoke.

“There are two sides to every coin. Two sides to every story. Two you will find and two shall save you all.”

Barclay: maybe you’d be warmer if you wore pants with fewer holes in the legs

Indrid:

Barclay:

Indrid:

Barclay: ...fine, here’s my jacket.