Wild Hearts: Prologue

     A leaf-fall glow settled on the awakening forest clearing, a cerulean lake glistening before it. The sun grew the strength to dry the morning dew on the flattened grass where generations of paws have done their duties and shared tongues and fought bloodthirsty battles. Little sleepy bodies began to appear from their dens as the day began. Distant gray clouds rumbled from afar, but showed no threat of ruining the sun's bright hold where the feline campgrounds lay. A lithe white cat gently scrambled up to the Highrock, his leaf-green eyes gazing around the clearing as more cats began to slowly pour their way into the open. Whiteleaf waited a while longer to see some beginning their daily duties around the camp. It seemed as if nothing had gone wrong. But what the morning light brought to him made his heart clench. Scattered blood from his clan mates lay on the grass, a reminder of what had really occurred the night before. FireClan had been attacked last night. He looked around at the surrounding cats, how injured some of them were, eyes clouded with grief.
     "Cats of FireClan," Whiteleaf announced, more shakily than he wished. He had never really spoken to the Clan from this point of view, where someone else was supposed to be addressing. He cleared his throat as his Clan mates started to gaze up at him and gather around the tall rock. "We had a rough night last night, as you obviously know." He looked around at the surrounding cats, how injured some of them were, eyes clouded with grief as they looked indignifiedly at their paws.  
     He stared blankly at the lifeless bodies that lay in the clearing, after the Clan's upsetting vigil. "We have lost a few of our warriors; Frostfog, Cloverheart, and Dreampaw, our medicine cat Grayfire, Windsong, and our deputy Whitequail." Grief once again held its icy claws on the Clan. "And we wish that StarClan honors them with the bravery that they had to fight that unfair, cruel battle." Whiteleaf swallowed hard. "And yet worst of all, we have lost our leader Dragonstar." Shrills of worry and pain washed through the clearing. "Shadowpaw, Destinypaw, Winterpaw, Autumnpaw, Brackenpaw, Wildpaw, and Whitepaw." All of the apprentices looked up at the call of their name. "All of you will do the duty of burying these beloved Clanmates this morning." He looked around again. "Those of you who have not seen to their wounds, Swampheart will do what her talented mother had taught her as a medicine cat. Skypaw and Silverfeather, you may assist her with that." A very young pale silver tabby, only the age of the older apprentices, walked slowly to the medicine cat's den to prepare her herbs, but waited heavy-eyed at the entrance to listen to the rest of the meeting.
     "But what about Dragonstar? We are without a leader!" Whitestripe, an unusually maroon-colored tom with a white stripe across his blind eye, had a look of worry and curiosity on his face. Nerve filled Whiteleaf as he brought up the subject that had to be brought up.  
     "Dragonstar's deputy is dead as well," called Willowtree, a white she-cat, from below.
     "Who will lead us?" others mewed anxiously.
     Whiteleaf breathed deeply. "Yes, we will need a new leader of FireClan. Is anyone willing to take it on?" Everyone went silent. He knew that wasn't the right thing to say, that he didn't put it the right and honorable way. But it was true; no one else had the authority to take the place next in line.
     I will take that honor," said a lean, ruffled jet-black tom with a light golden mane.
     Murmurs of disagreement hummed around the Clan. "Riversnake, I think we all know that your need for battle and bad temper is not something that is leader material."
     Riversnake opened his mouth in a sharp reply, but bit it back when no one said anything, and bowed his head in bitter acceptance.
"How about you, Quailstream?" A thick-furred sandy brown she-cat's wise amber eyes met Whiteleaf's. "You are wise, and very fond of the Clan."
     Quailstream smiled, but in dismay. She shook her head. "Please, Whiteleaf, I am very old. I am bound to be sleeping the elder's den within a couple moons. I don't think you want an old scrap like me leading our Clan."
     Whiteleaf honored her argue with a nod.
     "Flameears should be the leader!" Cats around the clearing pricked their ears at the alarming shout. The source of the exclamation was Snowsocks, Whiteleaf's sister.
At the front of the crowd, a lean, muscular orange tom looked back, his ears pricked in amazement and shock.  
     The pale gray she-cat walked over to the Highrock and stood below it. "Don't you think he is the ideal leader of the Clan? He is much like Dragonstar; wise, thoughtful, and incredibly strong as a warrior. And he even has a flame-colored coat that would very much symbolize FireClan!"
     "Snowsocks is right." Grayfur, a small, old gray she-cat stepped forward. "He would make a great leader."
     Flameears met Whiteleaf's eyes. The green emeralds were wide and thoughtful.
     "But he's not even Clan-born!" shouted Riversnake, ruining the golden moment for Flameears. "He couldn't be our leader." He sneered sideways at the orange tom, eyes narrowed.
     "Don't you think that he's already proven that he is loyal to this Clan, many times?" Whiteleaf pursued. "I know I have, and so has Snowsocks."
Riversnake didn't respond.


     A little kit felt engulfed by the darkness in the dense forest around her as she wailed in despair. The thunderstorm was at its peak; streaks of lightning struck the earth around the fox-red kit as it raged above. Her brown eyes were stretched wide as she searched frantically around her. "Mommy!" she yelled weakly above the claps of thunder. "Mommy, where are you?!"
     But no answer came. A formidably bright fray of lightning struck just next to her paws, and she yipped with fear. Suddenly she felt the ground slip beneath her, and the side of her face caught on a sharp twig and ripped. A deafening sear of pain shot through her face as she felt blood drip down her muzzle and into one of her white-dashed eyes. Immediately she dashed off, as far as she could. Help me! Someone help me! she pleaded to herself. Get me out of this!  
     And she ran. She ran for what felt like many seasons. She ran until she could find the edge of the angry storm. As she left the storm trailing in the other direction, she didn't stop running. She saw a low light; it was sunlight! She headed straight for the tempting place, through tall grass and looming trees. She began to hear birds singing high at the tops of the trees. Her heart pounded in uneasiness as she stumbled through the last of the thick ferns and found herself in a clearing, heavy with unfamiliar scents. With a jolt she realized that these weren't just forest scents; they were cat scents. Her eyes widened as she noticed many cats surrounding her. She huddled and braced herself, but they weren't looking in her direction. She plopped at the far back of the crowd, and stretched her little head to see a white cat at the top of a very smooth, tall stone. He was addressing the rest of the cats in the clearing. She strained hard to listen to the argument.
     "And what makes you think that you can just enter our Clan and become leader?" a tom's sharp voice hissed.
     "Enough." A lean tom with the fur of fire leaped up to the rock with the white cat. "Yes, it is true, Riversnake, we come from ThunderClan, not FireClan. But it is not our fault that we were driven away from our birth Clan. It was for our protection, as apprentices. Our leader killed his deputy; he killed my father. Mind you, he could have killed me or Whiteleaf or Snowsocks at the time. Thank StarClan he was forced away in battle by the new leader of ThunderClan, Whiteleaf's brother Alderstar."
     The kit felt overwhelmed by the terminology that they used. It all confused her so much.
     "I only think that it is for the best of the Clan that Flameears becomes leader," the white tom said. "He truly is what the Clan needs, for StarClan's sake!" Murmurs and cheers of agreement came from the surrounding cats.  
     "Thank you, Whiteleaf," Flameears said to the white tom. "I will take the rank of leader in place of Dragonstar. And I will take you as my deputy."
     Whiteleaf's ear pricked. "Uh-yes, Flameears. I accept that."
     "Very well, then." He stood tall above the rest of the crowd. "I will travel to the Moonstone tonight, at the half-moon, to receive my nine lives." The cats cheered with relief. Flameears jumped down from the tall rock, and suddenly the crowd peeled away.  
     A sense of alarm rushed over the kit as she realized cats noticed her as they turned around. Startled mews and hisses rose. The white tom, Whiteleaf, nearly stepped on the kit before he realized she had been huddled there. "Hello there." His eyes strained. He must've noticed the wound across the kit's eye. She forgot how much it stung, now that it had nearly dried. "Wait, you're not one of FireClan's kits." He sniffed her pelt, and retaliated from the stench. "You smell as if you've been playing in mud all day."  
     The fox-red kit's eyes widened at the cat, and the orange tom, Flameears, also approached her. "What is this?" he asked Whiteleaf.  
     "I'm not sure, she was just sitting here." He looked back at the kit.
     "Whose kit is this?"
     "I have no idea, Flameears. Not a FireClan kit."
     "Oh, great!" A big black tom with a golden mane stepped forward. "Just what we need! First an enemy Clan cat becomes leader, now we're accepting strange kits!"
     "This does not concern you, Riversnake," Flameears spat at him. He turned back to the young kit with a sympathetic expression. "I think we should let Swampheart have a look at that wound," he told Whiteleaf. "What is your name, little kit?"
     The kit blinked with her good eye, shaking some of the dry blood off the other, where the white dash under it was stained. She didn't even remember her name. She looked down at her furry paws in thought. She observed their red color, as red and small as a fox's, silky despite the travel. She looked back into Flameear's green eyes. "My name is Foxkit." Her voice was clear as day when she announced her name.
     "Foxkit, eh?" Flameears looked Foxkit up and down. "I can tell by your fox-red coat." He looked deeper into her eyes. "Do you remember where you came from, Foxkit?"
     "I...I don't know."