The forest was still, stiller than the stealthiest cat laying in wait for prey. The pool in the dip of the forest’s heart was filled with stars that were glowing brightly in the starless night. Four cats spiraled out of the forest’s leafy foliage and sat at the pool’s edge. A fiery, ginger tom with bright green eyes stepped forward and mewed out, “The Chosen cats have discovered half of the prophecy! The Clans had better prepare for the full weight of what these cats can do,” A second cat, this one slightly smaller than the first cat, was a she-cat with pale ginger tabby fur caterwauled, “Why must we wait to act against their dark heritage? The Dark Forest claimed them when our Three failed to carry out what they were chosen to do, and now we have unwanted blood being spilled.” The first cat that spoke stepped over the water of the pool calmly and ran his muzzle over the smaller she-cat’s ear. The she-cat shied away and mewed “Firestar, this isn’t the time for love, it’s the time to make our judgment.” Firestar looked down sadly and over to the darkened forest where reddened shadows of feline shapes with cold, glinting eyes trembled hungrily on the small group of star-lit cats. The biggest shadow grinned at Firestar and his yellow eyes seemed to reflect a horrible death, Firestar’s death. Firestar knew this cat and the many others who lived in the Dark Forest were hungry for the end of StarClan…
But Firestar knew that the cat in particular wanted his death, for all the wrongs that were dealt to him… that Firestar had dealt to him, which had ultimately led to his horrible, bloody death many moons ago in the old forest, when pure evil walked the forest with blood in his wake. Then, the end of the Clans seemed real, not like now, where the blood was added only to the cause of darkness. Firestar shook his to clear those thoughts away and looked at a small black tom with a white tipped tail who sat next to the she-cat. The black tom looked at Firestar hopefully, knowing that what would come in the end would be painful but knowing that his friend would help him, that pain seemed to lessen with all those dark lives the ranks of StarClan took with them. Firestar mewed at him, conscious that he could ask any of the cats there but he felt something different, something comforting, about asking his old friend, “Ravenpaw, you have recently joined the ranks of StarClan, but you know much already. We need an Omen of the Stars sent once again to a living warrior. I know you aren’t a full warrior, and never will be (here Ravenpaw licked his chest fur embarrassedly), but StarClan need someone to carry it out,” Ravenpaw looked at his paws and nodded without a word.
Firestar looked in the pool once again and sought out the Seven with the full weight of the whole world of the cats, from loners to Tribe cats, from rogues to warriors of the seven Clans, from the kittypets to the ancestors of Tribe, loner, warrior, and rogue alike. “The Seven will not fail us this time, not with the blood of all the Clan founders, will they Firestar?” the fourth cat spoke up for the first time since her death less than a quarter moon ago. Firestar’s head whipped around and took in the younger she-cat’s wide, pleading green eyes, ringed with black fur. The cat was one of the first prophesized cats with the power of the stars, but was told by the ancient cat that lived in the tunnels that she was not meant to be. With a start, Firestar saw a bright flash of crumbling starshine and blood tainted with brightness from the pool around her and saw the answer. “Yes, Hollyleaf. They will not fail us this time…I have seen this, but at a cost more terrible than what happened to your brothers.” Hollyleaf’s eyes widened even farther, making her look like an owl, but she kept her straight face. “Ravenpaw, go to Flashheart and Moonshade and warn them, but keep as much as possible of the prophecy to yourself. We must prepare for the prophecy to unfold, but no one must know. Not even the Seven must know…”
With that, Firestar vanished in a star-lit flash, and Hollyleaf and the other she-cat followed suit. Only Ravenpaw was left and he looked in the star-lit pool. “May the Clans walk the path of stars and not blood,” he mewed for the first time that whole meeting and padded away, leaving a path of starry paw steps that were edged with silvery blood puddling out of his fur, like a great wound.