Clanless Woods-a Fanfic by Hazeldust

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~Author's note: I haven't read all the Warriors books yet so I don't exactly know if my characters are real or fake! (Please don't make fun of me ) So, just go along with this, shall we...~

Nightstorm shot up an ancient oak tree delicately, and settled down in a cosy crook where two thick branches protruded from the trunk. Just as his eyelids drooped over his green eyes, a loud rustling noise from the ground woke him up. Hissing irritably, he shook himself roughly and crouched down, ready to pounce on an enemy. True, now there weren't any clans in the forest, after the many battles that tore apart the clans and destroyed them completely. It started when Shadowclan made an alliance with Windclan, and together they had pushed Riverclan out of their territory. But soon after their dark victory, Shadowclan turned traitor, and got rid of Windclan as well. A torrent of cats, both survivors from Windclan and Riverclan returned, ready for revenge, and Shadowclan still wanted Thunderclan's territory. The forest erupted into vicious battles, which ultimately ended all clans. Even the clan leader, MorningStar had died, despite her nine lives. The remaining cats roamed the woods freely, paying no matter to boundary lines and territories any more. Remaining cats such as Nightstorm, who still needed to watch his own back.

"Hey, Nightstorm! It's me! Are you up there?" A cheery voice piped up from the base of the trunk, and Nightstorm rolled his eyes, and climbed down the rough bark. "What do you want, Sorrelpaw?" He snapped at his former apprentice, glaring at his dusty brown-grey fur and wide, grey eyes sparkling with innocence, even after the bloody battles that lasted for several moons. "You promised that you'd still continue my training! I mean, sure, I probably won't ever get my warrior name now, but I still want to be a great hunter and a fiercefighter! Please, Nightstorm? You promised!" Nightstorm regretted his choice the day before, but he had given into his apprentice's wheedles and whines. "Fine," he growled, flicking his tail irritably. "Meet me here at sunhigh tomorrow." "Yes, Nightstorm!" Sorrelpaw yowled joyfully and shot out of view. Probably to go chase beetles or something, Nightstorm thought idly. Might as well go hunting, he thought feeling a pang of hunger prod his stomach.

He scented a tasty mouse, and he tracked the scent, tasting the air with his mouth open. He finally saw the brown mouse, who was nibbling a seed behind a gray boulder near the river. Stalking it silently, Nightstorm pounced, and killed it with one blow. Purring with anticipation, Nightstorm carried the dead mouse to a flattish boulder and devoured the mouse, crunching its small bones and tearing its delicious flesh. He left the remains on the rock, and leapt down to the ground to lap up some water in a small pool of water from the rain the night before. It was quiet, with the wind whispering through the treetops and and river gushing in the distance. No blood or enemies lurking around, ready to pounce on me, he tought contentedly. Feelin unused energy course through his legs, he bounded into the trees, heading towards Sunningrocks. Maybe he'll have his nap there.

He skidded to a halt, and leapt up a warm boulder, soaking in the warmth from the sun. Flopping down the warm surface, waves of exhaustion rolled over Nightstorm once more, and he was on the brink of sleep when another soft voice whispered, "Nightstorm?" Can't anyone get a clawlength of sleep around here? he thought, annoyed. He cracked open one eye, and saw a pearly gray she-cat with gentle blue eyes peering down at him. He scrambled to his paws, fighting off his sleep. "Dawnpelt!" He meowed happily, nuzzling her flank. He thought one of his best friends ahd died in the battles...but no, Dawnpelt was well and alive, right in front of him! "Nightstorm," she purred, licking the fur on his forehead. "I'm glad you're not dead," she murmered, and Nightstorm snorted. "As if. Those Shadowclan warriors would have thought a shadow with teeth fell on them, not a cat," he boasted proudly. Dawnpelt huffed quietly, half in amusement, half-annoyed. "Did you meet anyone else?" He asked, changing the subject. "Yes, Goldenstripe survived with me. We've been hunting together, and she tended to our wounds from the battles." Nightstorm sighed in relief. It was good to hear that their medicine cat had somehow survived as well. "That's good to hear," he replied earnestly. "Sorrelpaw also made it through," he added gruffly. Dawnpelt's queer blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "At least you had some company," she consoled him, flicking her tail. "I guess-" He tried to stifle an enourmous yawn, but failed. "Go to sleep. I'll be here," she purred, and started to groom him, licking his inky-black pelt. Nightstorm felt his eyelids droop once more, and he felt sleep conquer his mind.
But he would have preferred if he had stayed awake, because his dreams weren't exactly pleasant.

Nightstorm was running, running as hard as he could through the forest. Suddenly, the firm ground gave away, melting into dark nothingness. The trees disappeared, replaced by twinkling lights. Nightstorm skidded to a halt. Huh? Where am I? He turned wildly, trying to see where he was, but all he could see was blue-blackness and stars. "Nightstorm," a silvery voice whispered. He turned and yelped. It was a cat-one made up of smoky tendrils of mist and bright stars for eyes. But the pattern of his pelt, the flat muzzle, the pointed ears..."Smokefur?" Nightstorm murmered in awe. He had watched his friend get mauled by two wiry Shadowclan cats, but now here he was, greater and more dazzling than before. His misty, dark grey pelt streaked through with lighter stripes of silver was replaced with the hazy wisps of his spirit, and his bright yellow eyes were shining stars, but he was still friendly Smokefur.

"I look quite dazzling, don't I?" Smokefur meowed smugly. Nightstorm rolled his eyes and snorted-yep, Smokefur was still definitely himself, right down to the small crooked end of his tail. "But you are in grave danger." Smokefur's buoyant attitude suddenly vanished, leaving a dark seriousness that Nightstorm wasn't accustomed to. "What do you mean, I'm in danger? The battles are over. The forest is at peace again. No more boundary lines, every cat is free to roam the entire forest," Nightstorm purred. "Look where you are, Nightstorm. Look down," Smokefur meowed gently. Nightstorm looked around him, and realized he was in Starclan, surrounded by faint silver outlines of cats. Only him, with his dark pelt, blended in with the night sky. Then he glanced down, and saw himself lying on a boulder, with Dawnpelt pressing next to his flank.

"I-I see myself," Nightstorm stammered. "But how-?" "Your spirit is up here, with Starclan." "But I'm not dead!" Nigtstorm cried, thrashing his tail around in anxiety. "No, you're not," Smokefur said seriously. "But there is a great darkness looming ahead of you, far ahead. Too much in advance to outrun. You will face it when the time is right...but for the time being, you will be safe in the forest. Rest, Nightstorm. You will need power and courage to survive what is in store for you." "What? What darkness? Tell me, Smokefur!" Nightstorm meowed. "Gain your energy. Many things are predicted to befall your way. Be brave, my friend. Do not share the same cruel fate as I," he smiled ruefully. Smokefur started to seep away, melting back into the fathomless sky. "No, Smokefur! Come back!" Nightfur yowled, launching himself across the sky. "Be brave, Nightstorm," Smokefur's faint voice trailed back into Nightstorm's ears. Then he was falling, falling back to the earth. He struggled and writhed in panic, but he couldn't stop falling...

...Until the moment he nearly struck the earth, he was jostled from his sleep.

(Authors Note: Hopefully I didn't screw up. And this posts in the right place. There will be more...Did anyone like it? )

Hazeldust wrote:~Author's note: I haven't read all the Warriors books yet so I don't exactly know if my characters are real or fake! (Please don't make fun of me ) So, just go along with this, shall we...~

Nightstorm shot up an ancient oak tree delicately, and settled down in a cosy crook where two thick branches protruded from the trunk. Just as his eyelids drooped over his green eyes, a loud rustling noise from the ground woke him up. Hissing irritably, he shook himself roughly and crouched down, ready to pounce on an enemy. True, now there weren't any clans in the forest, after the many battles that tore apart the clans and destroyed them completely. It started when Shadowclan made an alliance with Windclan, and together they had pushed Riverclan out of their territory. But soon after their dark victory, Shadowclan turned traitor, and got rid of Windclan as well. A torrent of cats, both survivors from Windclan and Riverclan returned, ready for revenge, and Shadowclan still wanted Thunderclan's territory. The forest erupted into vicious battles, which ultimately ended all clans. Even the clan leader, MorningStar had died, despite her nine lives. The remaining cats roamed the woods freely, paying no matter to boundary lines and territories any more. Remaining cats such as Nightstorm, who still needed to watch his own back.

"Hey, Nightstorm! It's me! Are you up there?" A cheery voice piped up from the base of the trunk, and Nightstorm rolled his eyes, and climbed down the rough bark. "What do you want, Sorrelpaw?" He snapped at his former apprentice, glaring at his dusty brown-grey fur and wide, grey eyes sparkling with innocence, even after the bloody battles that lasted for several moons. "You promised that you'd still continue my training! I mean, sure, I probably won't ever get my warrior name now, but I still want to be a great hunter and a fiercefighter! Please, Nightstorm? You promised!" Nightstorm regretted his choice the day before, but he had given into his apprentice's wheedles and whines. "Fine," he growled, flicking his tail irritably. "Meet me here at sunhigh tomorrow." "Yes, Nightstorm!" Sorrelpaw yowled joyfully and shot out of view. Probably to go chase beetles or something, Nightstorm thought idly. Might as well go hunting, he thought feeling a pang of hunger prod his stomach.

He scented a tasty mouse, and he tracked the scent, tasting the air with his mouth open. He finally saw the brown mouse, who was nibbling a seed behind a gray boulder near the river. Stalking it silently, Nightstorm pounced, and killed it with one blow. Purring with anticipation, Nightstorm carried the dead mouse to a flattish boulder and devoured the mouse, crunching its small bones and tearing its delicious flesh. He left the remains on the rock, and leapt down to the ground to lap up some water in a small pool of water from the rain the night before. It was quiet, with the wind whispering through the treetops and and river gushing in the distance. No blood or enemies lurking around, ready to pounce on me, he tought contentedly. Feelin unused energy course through his legs, he bounded into the trees, heading towards Sunningrocks. Maybe he'll have his nap there.

He skidded to a halt, and leapt up a warm boulder, soaking in the warmth from the sun. Flopping down the warm surface, waves of exhaustion rolled over Nightstorm once more, and he was on the brink of sleep when another soft voice whispered, "Nightstorm?" Can't anyone get a clawlength of sleep around here? he thought, annoyed. He cracked open one eye, and saw a pearly gray she-cat with gentle blue eyes peering down at him. He scrambled to his paws, fighting off his sleep. "Dawnpelt!" He meowed happily, nuzzling her flank. He thought one of his best friends ahd died in the battles...but no, Dawnpelt was well and alive, right in front of him! "Nightstorm," she purred, licking the fur on his forehead. "I'm glad you're not dead," she murmered, and Nightstorm snorted. "As if. Those Shadowclan warriors would have thought a shadow with teeth fell on them, not a cat," he boasted proudly. Dawnpelt huffed quietly, half in amusement, half-annoyed. "Did you meet anyone else?" He asked, changing the subject. "Yes, Goldenstripe survived with me. We've been hunting together, and she tended to our wounds from the battles." Nightstorm sighed in relief. It was good to hear that their medicine cat had somehow survived as well. "That's good to hear," he replied earnestly. "Sorrelpaw also made it through," he added gruffly. Dawnpelt's queer blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "At least you had some company," she consoled him, flicking her tail. "I guess-" He tried to stifle an enourmous yawn, but failed. "Go to sleep. I'll be here," she purred, and started to groom him, licking his inky-black pelt. Nightstorm felt his eyelids droop once more, and he felt sleep conquer his mind.
But he would have preferred if he had stayed awake, because his dreams weren't exactly pleasant.

Nightstorm was running, running as hard as he could through the forest. Suddenly, the firm ground gave away, melting into dark nothingness. The trees disappeared, replaced by twinkling lights. Nightstorm skidded to a halt. Huh? Where am I? He turned wildly, trying to see where he was, but all he could see was blue-blackness and stars. "Nightstorm," a silvery voice whispered. He turned and yelped. It was a cat-one made up of smoky tendrils of mist and bright stars for eyes. But the pattern of his pelt, the flat muzzle, the pointed ears..."Smokefur?" Nightstorm murmered in awe. He had watched his friend get mauled by two wiry Shadowclan cats, but now here he was, greater and more dazzling than before. His misty, dark grey pelt streaked through with lighter stripes of silver was replaced with the hazy wisps of his spirit, and his bright yellow eyes were shining stars, but he was still friendly Smokefur.

"I look quite dazzling, don't I?" Smokefur meowed smugly. Nightstorm rolled his eyes and snorted-yep, Smokefur was still definitely himself, right down to the small crooked end of his tail. "But you are in grave danger." Smokefur's buoyant attitude suddenly vanished, leaving a dark seriousness that Nightstorm wasn't accustomed to. "What do you mean, I'm in danger? The battles are over. The forest is at peace again. No more boundary lines, every cat is free to roam the entire forest," Nightstorm purred. "Look where you are, Nightstorm. Look down," Smokefur meowed gently. Nightstorm looked around him, and realized he was in Starclan, surrounded by faint silver outlines of cats. Only him, with his dark pelt, blended in with the night sky. Then he glanced down, and saw himself lying on a boulder, with Dawnpelt pressing next to his flank.

"I-I see myself," Nightstorm stammered. "But how-?" "Your spirit is up here, with Starclan." "But I'm not dead!" Nigtstorm cried, thrashing his tail around in anxiety. "No, you're not," Smokefur said seriously. "But there is a great darkness looming ahead of you, far ahead. Too much in advance to outrun. You will face it when the time is right...but for the time being, you will be safe in the forest. Rest, Nightstorm. You will need power and courage to survive what is in store for you." "What? What darkness? Tell me, Smokefur!" Nightstorm meowed. "Gain your energy. Many things are predicted to befall your way. Be brave, my friend. Do not share the same cruel fate as I," he smiled ruefully. Smokefur started to seep away, melting back into the fathomless sky. "No, Smokefur! Come back!" Nightfur yowled, launching himself across the sky. "Be brave, Nightstorm," Smokefur's faint voice trailed back into Nightstorm's ears. Then he was falling, falling back to the earth. He struggled and writhed in panic, but he couldn't stop falling...

...Until the moment he nearly struck the earth, he was jostled from his sleep.

(Authors Note: Hopefully I didn't screw up. And this posts in the right place. There will be more...Did anyone like it? )

so how bout some moar?!

Moar? You have odd spelling.

Ooohhh this is a nice story

Hazeldust wrote:~Author's note: I haven't read all the Warriors books yet so I don't exactly know if my characters are real or fake! (Please don't make fun of me ) So, just go along with this, shall we...~

Nightstorm shot up an ancient oak tree delicately, and settled down in a cosy crook where two thick branches protruded from the trunk. Just as his eyelids drooped over his green eyes, a loud rustling noise from the ground woke him up. Hissing irritably, he shook himself roughly and crouched down, ready to pounce on an enemy. True, now there weren't any clans in the forest, after the many battles that tore apart the clans and destroyed them completely. It started when Shadowclan made an alliance with Windclan, and together they had pushed Riverclan out of their territory. But soon after their dark victory, Shadowclan turned traitor, and got rid of Windclan as well. A torrent of cats, both survivors from Windclan and Riverclan returned, ready for revenge, and Shadowclan still wanted Thunderclan's territory. The forest erupted into vicious battles, which ultimately ended all clans. Even the clan leader, MorningStar had died, despite her nine lives. The remaining cats roamed the woods freely, paying no matter to boundary lines and territories any more. Remaining cats such as Nightstorm, who still needed to watch his own back.

"Hey, Nightstorm! It's me! Are you up there?" A cheery voice piped up from the base of the trunk, and Nightstorm rolled his eyes, and climbed down the rough bark. "What do you want, Sorrelpaw?" He snapped at his former apprentice, glaring at his dusty brown-grey fur and wide, grey eyes sparkling with innocence, even after the bloody battles that lasted for several moons. "You promised that you'd still continue my training! I mean, sure, I probably won't ever get my warrior name now, but I still want to be a great hunter and a fiercefighter! Please, Nightstorm? You promised!" Nightstorm regretted his choice the day before, but he had given into his apprentice's wheedles and whines. "Fine," he growled, flicking his tail irritably. "Meet me here at sunhigh tomorrow." "Yes, Nightstorm!" Sorrelpaw yowled joyfully and shot out of view. Probably to go chase beetles or something, Nightstorm thought idly. Might as well go hunting, he thought feeling a pang of hunger prod his stomach.

He scented a tasty mouse, and he tracked the scent, tasting the air with his mouth open. He finally saw the brown mouse, who was nibbling a seed behind a gray boulder near the river. Stalking it silently, Nightstorm pounced, and killed it with one blow. Purring with anticipation, Nightstorm carried the dead mouse to a flattish boulder and devoured the mouse, crunching its small bones and tearing its delicious flesh. He left the remains on the rock, and leapt down to the ground to lap up some water in a small pool of water from the rain the night before. It was quiet, with the wind whispering through the treetops and and river gushing in the distance. No blood or enemies lurking around, ready to pounce on me, he tought contentedly. Feelin unused energy course through his legs, he bounded into the trees, heading towards Sunningrocks. Maybe he'll have his nap there.

He skidded to a halt, and leapt up a warm boulder, soaking in the warmth from the sun. Flopping down the warm surface, waves of exhaustion rolled over Nightstorm once more, and he was on the brink of sleep when another soft voice whispered, "Nightstorm?" Can't anyone get a clawlength of sleep around here? he thought, annoyed. He cracked open one eye, and saw a pearly gray she-cat with gentle blue eyes peering down at him. He scrambled to his paws, fighting off his sleep. "Dawnpelt!" He meowed happily, nuzzling her flank. He thought one of his best friends ahd died in the battles...but no, Dawnpelt was well and alive, right in front of him! "Nightstorm," she purred, licking the fur on his forehead. "I'm glad you're not dead," she murmered, and Nightstorm snorted. "As if. Those Shadowclan warriors would have thought a shadow with teeth fell on them, not a cat," he boasted proudly. Dawnpelt huffed quietly, half in amusement, half-annoyed. "Did you meet anyone else?" He asked, changing the subject. "Yes, Goldenstripe survived with me. We've been hunting together, and she tended to our wounds from the battles." Nightstorm sighed in relief. It was good to hear that their medicine cat had somehow survived as well. "That's good to hear," he replied earnestly. "Sorrelpaw also made it through," he added gruffly. Dawnpelt's queer blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "At least you had some company," she consoled him, flicking her tail. "I guess-" He tried to stifle an enourmous yawn, but failed. "Go to sleep. I'll be here," she purred, and started to groom him, licking his inky-black pelt. Nightstorm felt his eyelids droop once more, and he felt sleep conquer his mind.
But he would have preferred if he had stayed awake, because his dreams weren't exactly pleasant.

Nightstorm was running, running as hard as he could through the forest. Suddenly, the firm ground gave away, melting into dark nothingness. The trees disappeared, replaced by twinkling lights. Nightstorm skidded to a halt. Huh? Where am I? He turned wildly, trying to see where he was, but all he could see was blue-blackness and stars. "Nightstorm," a silvery voice whispered. He turned and yelped. It was a cat-one made up of smoky tendrils of mist and bright stars for eyes. But the pattern of his pelt, the flat muzzle, the pointed ears..."Smokefur?" Nightstorm murmered in awe. He had watched his friend get mauled by two wiry Shadowclan cats, but now here he was, greater and more dazzling than before. His misty, dark grey pelt streaked through with lighter stripes of silver was replaced with the hazy wisps of his spirit, and his bright yellow eyes were shining stars, but he was still friendly Smokefur.

"I look quite dazzling, don't I?" Smokefur meowed smugly. Nightstorm rolled his eyes and snorted-yep, Smokefur was still definitely himself, right down to the small crooked end of his tail. "But you are in grave danger." Smokefur's buoyant attitude suddenly vanished, leaving a dark seriousness that Nightstorm wasn't accustomed to. "What do you mean, I'm in danger? The battles are over. The forest is at peace again. No more boundary lines, every cat is free to roam the entire forest," Nightstorm purred. "Look where you are, Nightstorm. Look down," Smokefur meowed gently. Nightstorm looked around him, and realized he was in Starclan, surrounded by faint silver outlines of cats. Only him, with his dark pelt, blended in with the night sky. Then he glanced down, and saw himself lying on a boulder, with Dawnpelt pressing next to his flank.

"I-I see myself," Nightstorm stammered. "But how-?" "Your spirit is up here, with Starclan." "But I'm not dead!" Nigtstorm cried, thrashing his tail around in anxiety. "No, you're not," Smokefur said seriously. "But there is a great darkness looming ahead of you, far ahead. Too much in advance to outrun. You will face it when the time is right...but for the time being, you will be safe in the forest. Rest, Nightstorm. You will need power and courage to survive what is in store for you." "What? What darkness? Tell me, Smokefur!" Nightstorm meowed. "Gain your energy. Many things are predicted to befall your way. Be brave, my friend. Do not share the same cruel fate as I," he smiled ruefully. Smokefur started to seep away, melting back into the fathomless sky. "No, Smokefur! Come back!" Nightfur yowled, launching himself across the sky. "Be brave, Nightstorm," Smokefur's faint voice trailed back into Nightstorm's ears. Then he was falling, falling back to the earth. He struggled and writhed in panic, but he couldn't stop falling...

...Until the moment he nearly struck the earth, he was jostled from his sleep.

(Authors Note: Hopefully I didn't screw up. And this posts in the right place. There will be more...Did anyone like it? )

Yay! I love it! You should be a writer! Can I see more??

~Hey I haven't checked this in a while...People (or, ah, cats) seem to like it. So I'll post more. Thanks guys ~

Yes! Post more! Maybe you could add me? JK!

~So, scattered across the past 7 pages is the story that leads up to the bit I'm posting now. So if you only read my first post, sorry-you're going to have to go through all the pages to search for the pieces of fanfic I posted. To refresh your memory-Nightstorm and his friends are living at DeathClan's camp, and there are some new cats that came with Sunstreak. All of them seem normal-except for Sunstreak. This is the second night he'll follow her out-and this time she'll take him to where she came from.~

Nightstorm woke up in the warrior’s den, with some other cats waking up around him. How did he get here? All he remembered was Sunstreak snarling and mumbling, furious then weak. She had uttered the word “Sleep,” and he remembered an unstoppable blackness pooling in his mind…a kind of toxic unconsciousness. He shook his head, bumping into Dawnpelt who was curled up beside him. “Morning, Nightstorm,” she mumbled blearily, blinking in the fierce sunlight. Just then, Fawntail poked her creamy brown head into the warrior’s den and called, “Nightstorm, bring Jaystep and Sorrelpaw with you for the morning patrol. Meet me at the camp entrance.” Shaking his pelt, he went and woke up Jaystep and his apprentice mechanically. The strange thoughts still wavered in his mind, even when racing through the early morning with wafts of fresh flowers and prey pressing around him.

When they returned, Nightstorm eyed Sunstreak, who looked normal, talking to Goldenstripe. He watched from a distance, until Sunstreak left the bright medicine cat and wandered over to the dens. He approached her cautiously. “Hello, Nightstorm,” she greeted him. “Good morning, Sunstreak.” He searched her expression carefully, but it was bright and held no fatigue, guilt, or anything forced. “May I ask where you were last night?” He ventured carefully. “Me?” She seemed surprised. He stayed silent, waiting for an answer. “I was sleeping the den. What else would I be doing?” Her eyes were wide without guilt. Nightstorm shifted. If she was telling the truth, then it wouldn’t be a good idea to give out information.

“Oh, nothing. I just heard some disturbance in the night, and when I woke up, I saw a ginger cat slip out of the den. I might have been Mapleblaze,” he invented, scrabbling for a warrior with an amber pelt like Sunstreak’s. “Okay, then. See you around,” she replied, and continued to walk towards the dens. Nightstorm shook his head again, trying to clear it. Maybe it had been a dream. If nothing happens because of it, why ponder over it? Pushing everything aside, he trotted out to the forest, scents of promising prey lingering in the air.

Two nights later, Nightstorm’s eyes blinked open again. The night was heavy and dark-it was the middle of greenleaf and it was sure to rain soon. Something compelled him to go out of the den once more-in his state of semi-consciousness, he didn’t remember what had happened the last time. This time he stalked silently out of the camp, and hid into a small grove of bushes. He thought about going to sleep here-the night was cooler than the daytime, and he should get some peaceful sleep while it lasted. Then a cloud moved away from the moon, and it illuminated the knot of trees. Glowing amber eyes peered out from under a tangled of tree roots and it broke into an expression of relief.

The small cat slid out of the shadows, long tail waving. “Sunstreak,” Nightstorm growled, not menacingly, but more in apprehension. He still didn’t remember last time, but an uneasy feeling pricked his fur. “Nightstorm,” she dipped her head, her small ear folding back neatly. “Why am I here?” He rumbled. She flicked her tail. “As I mentioned last time, you are different.” “Sorrelpaw and Dawnpelt entered this clan with me. Goldenstripe, too,” he interjected. She shook her head. “No, more than that. You are more…perceptive,” she mewed hesitantly. “Your mind can communicate with Starclan more easily.” He laughed nervously. “I’m not a medicine cat,” he mumbled. “No, you’re not,” she replied seriously. “Yet, there is a strong connection. Come,” she said abruptly, and slithered quietly into the shadows. His gleaming eyes searched the night for a speck of ginger-a thick cloud had swept over the moon again, blocking any source of light.

Straining his ears, he blindly followed Sunstreak, not knowing why he was trailing after her in the middle of the night, with no other reason than her saying, “Come.” Soon, they came near an unfamiliar creek rushing silently. She halted; moonlight shone again, filtering against her warm pelt. “You need to meet some cats,” she murmered. He nodded. “Are you willing?” He nodded. “Enter of your own free will,” she told him, and disappeared down a tangled mound of reeds. Poking his nose in, he discovered a slightly wet tunnel which appeared to go down under the creek. He sniffed the air-it smelled like an exotic fruit that would grow nowhere in a forest. But he padded through anyways, as if in a trance. It was completely dark, and he relied on his nose to try and catch Sunstreak’s scent through the heady perfume of the tunnel. When the ground finally began to incline, he smelled more cats, moving nearby. Sunstreak plodded on, her long tail waving. They clambered through some bushes, then she disappeared. Literally, it seemed that she simply moulded into the wispy shadows.

Nightstorm whipped around, trying to find his bearings, when a warm mass of flesh and fur pressed against him from all sides. A tail was pressed into his mouth to keep him silent, but it was soaked in a thick, heavy liquid that seeped through him, calming his nerves, making him feel oddly light and dreamy. He turned to his side to see a plump, grey cat with dark streaks across his muzzle padding quietly next to him, herding him to an unknown destination.

“Hello,” he said in an offhand voice. He felt slightly tipsy. The grey cat turned his silvery eyes towards him. “And how are you?” The tom replied. “Rather…as if I could jump and simply fly,” Nightstorm replied, feeling a silly grin stretch across his face. “I’m Nightstorm. Who’re you?” “Dustcloud,” the tom replied promptly. Suddenly, the moon slid out from behind a mass of clouds, and shone directly into Nightstorm’s eyes. It cleared his sluggish mind, instantly made him aware of what was happening. He turned to his other side and saw a tall, lean she-cat with thin white fur and a frightfully long tail. With sharp ears and a thin muzzle, it reminded him of the starving lynx that had once wandered into his old camp. “Who’re you?” He asked nervously. The she-cat turned her lithe head towards him, piercing him with cold blue eyes.

“Didn’t you follow Sunstreak on your free will?” Her voice was surprisingly low. “Yes,” he replied cautiously. “Then why do you sound suspicious and untrusting?” Her icy eyes scanned his face carefully. Nightstorm stayed silent for a moment, thinking. The battles had made him careful about his words-they could cost him his life. “I have seen many battles,” he began. “Being careful is only natural when surrounded by strange cats.” A pause. “And you still haven’t answered my question.” The white she-cat turned back to face forward. “I am Snowfire.” “Nightstorm.” “Yes, we’ve heard about you. You hold the key to our existence.” “The key-? What?” Nightstorm panted slightly. They didn’t slow down-they continued at the swift pace, a mass of lithe cats guiding him to who-knows-where.

“You will save the forests from a terrible time. But not before it happens.” Snowfire sprinted calmly. “What? Then-where are you taking me?” Nightstorm cried, trying to keep up. A burly tom with a shaggy brown pelt nudged him from behind. Legs burning, Nightstorm quickened his pace. “To a sacred place.” “Do you have a camp?” “Not all cats live in clans, you know,” she replied irritably. “Are you loners?” No.” “Then-“ “By Starclan! Do you ever stop talking?!” Snowfire snapped impatiently. “We’ll explain when we get there.” “But where-“ “Do you want me to knock you out again?” Nightstorm remembered the firm tail that had been clamped into his mouth, dripping sweet liquid. Then he looked at Snowfire’s thin tail, his eyes trailing down to the end, where it was damp, the fur sticking wetly to her bones. He flushed and turned away, keeping his mouth shut.

Finally, long after Nightstorm’s legs were numb, they came to yet another clearing, except it was exceptionally large, with an abrupt stop to land, and a smooth, clear pond stretched across. Several flat stones circled it, balancing on the water’s surface, and the group of cats vanished, leaving Nightstorm alone. From the shadows, with perfect timing, seven gleaming eyes arose, accompanied with sleek, furry bodies. Nightstorm watched as seven cats stalked towards the pond and alighted on the smooth stones. The cat closest to him was painfully thin with scraggly grey fur and dark grey eyes. The she-cat next to him was plump and fair, with snowy white fur, gleaming yellow eyes and abnormal brown paws and tail. The next was a she-cat with a short, brown pelt the exact color of bark, a long curling tail, and brilliant green eyes. The fourth cat, opposite Nightstorm, had long, mottled fur in shades of rusty orange, chestnut brown and inky black. The fifth cat was solid grey with a pearly chest and serious eyes. The sixth cat was tiny, a little blob of honey-gold fur and intelligent blue eyes-almost like a younger version of Sunstreak if Sunstreak had blue eyes. The final cat was old and frail, with silver, almost see-through fur and dark paws, ears, tail, and muzzle. They regarded Nightstorm carefully, until-

“I am Greythorn,” the first cat intoned. “Fleecedart,” the white she-cat trilled. “Darkheart,” the earth-coloured she cat said in a gravelly, low voice. The mottled cat called out in a clear voice-“Earthpelt!” “Shadowstep!” “Starspark!” “Moonfern,” the aged cat croaked in a surprisingly bitter tone. After all the cats announced their name, Greythorn said, “What brings you here-“ “Among the Sacred Seven?” Fleecedart quavered. “In our midst strangers are not welcome,” Darkheart warned. “And you are a stranger!” Earthpelt said in perfect timing, followed by Shadowstep. “You have not come here by mistake, stranger-“ “And you must choose your words carefully, if you wish to live,” Starspark piped up in a high, demure voice that didn’t match her forbidding words. “Yet-fate has brought you here, and you will be intertwined with ours,” whispered Moonfern.

“I, Sunstreak, brought this cat to our midst, to the Meeting Place of the Sacred Seven.” Sunstreak’s voice echoed suddenly at Nightstorm’s ear. He jerked, splashing into the frigid water of the pond. But at once, the water heated up at a perfect temperature that warmed his entire body. He wanted to sink into the pond, and when he turned to look into the pond, the water twisted and colours shimmered to create an image of his outmost desire-“Nightstorm!” Sunstreak nipped his back and pulled him out of the water. He regained his senses and stood still, next to Sunstreak, his mind whirling from all the strange things that had happened.

“His mind is like a crystal for light and knowledge can filter through it like fish can swim through water.” Sunstreak called out to the seven silent cats. “I believe that he will play a crucial part in-“ “Very well, Light-Bringer,” trilled Starspark sharply. And to Nightstorm’s amazement, she leaped gracefully off the smooth stone and padded lightly across the surface of the water and sat right in front of Nightstorm.
“Hello,” she greeted him. “I’m Starspark. Ooh, I can tell your spirit is strong. As strong as the wind! You’ll be a great help to us. Won’t you? Won’t you? Say yes! You have to help us! A great, dark-“ “Starspark!” Earthpelt growled. Starspark rolled her eyes and flipped over in a backwards somersault and disappeared with a tiny wink of light, as if she had fallen into an invisible hole in the universe. “Wha-?” Nightstorm garbled, his voice strangled. “See, Starspark confused the poor cat,” Fleecedart sighed. “Yet Starspark does what she must do,” Moonfern croaked. Earthpelt shook his head, looking slightly disappointed. “Things are all fun and games to her-“ “But she is barely a kit!” Darkheart cried.

“Times are serious now,” Shadowstep intoned in a slow, calm voice. “Um,” Nightstorm cleared his throat. Sunstreak shot him a pointed look, which he ignored. Seven pairs of sharp eyes snapped towards him. “You speak, Creature of Night,” Earthpelt said. “I am not a creature of the night-I am Nightstorm,” he said stubbornly. “Yet look at you-“ Moonfern sighed, but Shadowstep silenced him with a slight swish of his tail. “He must not know yet,” Shadowstep reasoned.

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Nightstorm raised his voice. “Why am I a creature of night, what is this darkness, what do I have to do with it, who is Sunstreak, why did she bring me here, and who are all YOU?” Nightstorm nearly yelled in frustration. Seven pairs of eyes regarded him. “Well, we can see he has a strong mind,” Darkheart said blandly. “Yes, he is not afraid to express his anger to the Sacred Seven,” Fleecedart added, with a slight nip in her voice. Nightstorm nearly growled in annoyance. Sunstreak brings him to these cats, they act all mystical and intelligent and unnatural, and they can’t even give him a straight answer!

“Hush,” Moonfern croaked in his rusty voice. “Your time will come.” “But-““You will learn all you need to know. Soon, Creature of Night. Soon you will be the savior of our day. Soon, but now you need rest,” Moonfern’s cracked voiced was like a worn blanket, tattered and patched, yet full of memories and soft to the touch. “Sleep, dark mystery. Sleep while you can,” he crooned. “What?” Nightstorm mumbled. “Why am I-auhmm,” he sighed, feeling hopelessly sleepy. Not again, he thought. Who were these freaky cats that could make him…fall…asleep at…will…

Awesome story! But freakishly long. *sigh*

I know-I couldn't find a place to stop it.

Do stop it I loved it. It was so good.

Incredible! This is just as good as what I have in mind for my fan-fic! Keep up the good work.

when are you writing your own? Are you going to include Kali and Speckleback?

Hazeldust wrote:~So, scattered across the past 7 pages is the story that leads up to the bit I'm posting now. So if you only read my first post, sorry-you're going to have to go through all the pages to search for the pieces of fanfic I posted. To refresh your memory-Nightstorm and his friends are living at DeathClan's camp, and there are some new cats that came with Sunstreak. All of them seem normal-except for Sunstreak. This is the second night he'll follow her out-and this time she'll take him to where she came from.~

Nightstorm woke up in the warrior’s den, with some other cats waking up around him. How did he get here? All he remembered was Sunstreak snarling and mumbling, furious then weak. She had uttered the word “Sleep,” and he remembered an unstoppable blackness pooling in his mind…a kind of toxic unconsciousness. He shook his head, bumping into Dawnpelt who was curled up beside him. “Morning, Nightstorm,” she mumbled blearily, blinking in the fierce sunlight. Just then, Fawntail poked her creamy brown head into the warrior’s den and called, “Nightstorm, bring Jaystep and Sorrelpaw with you for the morning patrol. Meet me at the camp entrance.” Shaking his pelt, he went and woke up Jaystep and his apprentice mechanically. The strange thoughts still wavered in his mind, even when racing through the early morning with wafts of fresh flowers and prey pressing around him.

When they returned, Nightstorm eyed Sunstreak, who looked normal, talking to Goldenstripe. He watched from a distance, until Sunstreak left the bright medicine cat and wandered over to the dens. He approached her cautiously. “Hello, Nightstorm,” she greeted him. “Good morning, Sunstreak.” He searched her expression carefully, but it was bright and held no fatigue, guilt, or anything forced. “May I ask where you were last night?” He ventured carefully. “Me?” She seemed surprised. He stayed silent, waiting for an answer. “I was sleeping the den. What else would I be doing?” Her eyes were wide without guilt. Nightstorm shifted. If she was telling the truth, then it wouldn’t be a good idea to give out information.

“Oh, nothing. I just heard some disturbance in the night, and when I woke up, I saw a ginger cat slip out of the den. I might have been Mapleblaze,” he invented, scrabbling for a warrior with an amber pelt like Sunstreak’s. “Okay, then. See you around,” she replied, and continued to walk towards the dens. Nightstorm shook his head again, trying to clear it. Maybe it had been a dream. If nothing happens because of it, why ponder over it? Pushing everything aside, he trotted out to the forest, scents of promising prey lingering in the air.

Two nights later, Nightstorm’s eyes blinked open again. The night was heavy and dark-it was the middle of greenleaf and it was sure to rain soon. Something compelled him to go out of the den once more-in his state of semi-consciousness, he didn’t remember what had happened the last time. This time he stalked silently out of the camp, and hid into a small grove of bushes. He thought about going to sleep here-the night was cooler than the daytime, and he should get some peaceful sleep while it lasted. Then a cloud moved away from the moon, and it illuminated the knot of trees. Glowing amber eyes peered out from under a tangled of tree roots and it broke into an expression of relief.

The small cat slid out of the shadows, long tail waving. “Sunstreak,” Nightstorm growled, not menacingly, but more in apprehension. He still didn’t remember last time, but an uneasy feeling pricked his fur. “Nightstorm,” she dipped her head, her small ear folding back neatly. “Why am I here?” He rumbled. She flicked her tail. “As I mentioned last time, you are different.” “Sorrelpaw and Dawnpelt entered this clan with me. Goldenstripe, too,” he interjected. She shook her head. “No, more than that. You are more…perceptive,” she mewed hesitantly. “Your mind can communicate with Starclan more easily.” He laughed nervously. “I’m not a medicine cat,” he mumbled. “No, you’re not,” she replied seriously. “Yet, there is a strong connection. Come,” she said abruptly, and slithered quietly into the shadows. His gleaming eyes searched the night for a speck of ginger-a thick cloud had swept over the moon again, blocking any source of light.

Straining his ears, he blindly followed Sunstreak, not knowing why he was trailing after her in the middle of the night, with no other reason than her saying, “Come.” Soon, they came near an unfamiliar creek rushing silently. She halted; moonlight shone again, filtering against her warm pelt. “You need to meet some cats,” she murmered. He nodded. “Are you willing?” He nodded. “Enter of your own free will,” she told him, and disappeared down a tangled mound of reeds. Poking his nose in, he discovered a slightly wet tunnel which appeared to go down under the creek. He sniffed the air-it smelled like an exotic fruit that would grow nowhere in a forest. But he padded through anyways, as if in a trance. It was completely dark, and he relied on his nose to try and catch Sunstreak’s scent through the heady perfume of the tunnel. When the ground finally began to incline, he smelled more cats, moving nearby. Sunstreak plodded on, her long tail waving. They clambered through some bushes, then she disappeared. Literally, it seemed that she simply moulded into the wispy shadows.

Nightstorm whipped around, trying to find his bearings, when a warm mass of flesh and fur pressed against him from all sides. A tail was pressed into his mouth to keep him silent, but it was soaked in a thick, heavy liquid that seeped through him, calming his nerves, making him feel oddly light and dreamy. He turned to his side to see a plump, grey cat with dark streaks across his muzzle padding quietly next to him, herding him to an unknown destination.

“Hello,” he said in an offhand voice. He felt slightly tipsy. The grey cat turned his silvery eyes towards him. “And how are you?” The tom replied. “Rather…as if I could jump and simply fly,” Nightstorm replied, feeling a silly grin stretch across his face. “I’m Nightstorm. Who’re you?” “Dustcloud,” the tom replied promptly. Suddenly, the moon slid out from behind a mass of clouds, and shone directly into Nightstorm’s eyes. It cleared his sluggish mind, instantly made him aware of what was happening. He turned to his other side and saw a tall, lean she-cat with thin white fur and a frightfully long tail. With sharp ears and a thin muzzle, it reminded him of the starving lynx that had once wandered into his old camp. “Who’re you?” He asked nervously. The she-cat turned her lithe head towards him, piercing him with cold blue eyes.

“Didn’t you follow Sunstreak on your free will?” Her voice was surprisingly low. “Yes,” he replied cautiously. “Then why do you sound suspicious and untrusting?” Her icy eyes scanned his face carefully. Nightstorm stayed silent for a moment, thinking. The battles had made him careful about his words-they could cost him his life. “I have seen many battles,” he began. “Being careful is only natural when surrounded by strange cats.” A pause. “And you still haven’t answered my question.” The white she-cat turned back to face forward. “I am Snowfire.” “Nightstorm.” “Yes, we’ve heard about you. You hold the key to our existence.” “The key-? What?” Nightstorm panted slightly. They didn’t slow down-they continued at the swift pace, a mass of lithe cats guiding him to who-knows-where.

“You will save the forests from a terrible time. But not before it happens.” Snowfire sprinted calmly. “What? Then-where are you taking me?” Nightstorm cried, trying to keep up. A burly tom with a shaggy brown pelt nudged him from behind. Legs burning, Nightstorm quickened his pace. “To a sacred place.” “Do you have a camp?” “Not all cats live in clans, you know,” she replied irritably. “Are you loners?” No.” “Then-“ “By Starclan! Do you ever stop talking?!” Snowfire snapped impatiently. “We’ll explain when we get there.” “But where-“ “Do you want me to knock you out again?” Nightstorm remembered the firm tail that had been clamped into his mouth, dripping sweet liquid. Then he looked at Snowfire’s thin tail, his eyes trailing down to the end, where it was damp, the fur sticking wetly to her bones. He flushed and turned away, keeping his mouth shut.

Finally, long after Nightstorm’s legs were numb, they came to yet another clearing, except it was exceptionally large, with an abrupt stop to land, and a smooth, clear pond stretched across. Several flat stones circled it, balancing on the water’s surface, and the group of cats vanished, leaving Nightstorm alone. From the shadows, with perfect timing, seven gleaming eyes arose, accompanied with sleek, furry bodies. Nightstorm watched as seven cats stalked towards the pond and alighted on the smooth stones. The cat closest to him was painfully thin with scraggly grey fur and dark grey eyes. The she-cat next to him was plump and fair, with snowy white fur, gleaming yellow eyes and abnormal brown paws and tail. The next was a she-cat with a short, brown pelt the exact color of bark, a long curling tail, and brilliant green eyes. The fourth cat, opposite Nightstorm, had long, mottled fur in shades of rusty orange, chestnut brown and inky black. The fifth cat was solid grey with a pearly chest and serious eyes. The sixth cat was tiny, a little blob of honey-gold fur and intelligent blue eyes-almost like a younger version of Sunstreak if Sunstreak had blue eyes. The final cat was old and frail, with silver, almost see-through fur and dark paws, ears, tail, and muzzle. They regarded Nightstorm carefully, until-

“I am Greythorn,” the first cat intoned. “Fleecedart,” the white she-cat trilled. “Darkheart,” the earth-coloured she cat said in a gravelly, low voice. The mottled cat called out in a clear voice-“Earthpelt!” “Shadowstep!” “Starspark!” “Moonfern,” the aged cat croaked in a surprisingly bitter tone. After all the cats announced their name, Greythorn said, “What brings you here-“ “Among the Sacred Seven?” Fleecedart quavered. “In our midst strangers are not welcome,” Darkheart warned. “And you are a stranger!” Earthpelt said in perfect timing, followed by Shadowstep. “You have not come here by mistake, stranger-“ “And you must choose your words carefully, if you wish to live,” Starspark piped up in a high, demure voice that didn’t match her forbidding words. “Yet-fate has brought you here, and you will be intertwined with ours,” whispered Moonfern.

“I, Sunstreak, brought this cat to our midst, to the Meeting Place of the Sacred Seven.” Sunstreak’s voice echoed suddenly at Nightstorm’s ear. He jerked, splashing into the frigid water of the pond. But at once, the water heated up at a perfect temperature that warmed his entire body. He wanted to sink into the pond, and when he turned to look into the pond, the water twisted and colours shimmered to create an image of his outmost desire-“Nightstorm!” Sunstreak nipped his back and pulled him out of the water. He regained his senses and stood still, next to Sunstreak, his mind whirling from all the strange things that had happened.

“His mind is like a crystal for light and knowledge can filter through it like fish can swim through water.” Sunstreak called out to the seven silent cats. “I believe that he will play a crucial part in-“ “Very well, Light-Bringer,” trilled Starspark sharply. And to Nightstorm’s amazement, she leaped gracefully off the smooth stone and padded lightly across the surface of the water and sat right in front of Nightstorm.
“Hello,” she greeted him. “I’m Starspark. Ooh, I can tell your spirit is strong. As strong as the wind! You’ll be a great help to us. Won’t you? Won’t you? Say yes! You have to help us! A great, dark-“ “Starspark!” Earthpelt growled. Starspark rolled her eyes and flipped over in a backwards somersault and disappeared with a tiny wink of light, as if she had fallen into an invisible hole in the universe. “Wha-?” Nightstorm garbled, his voice strangled. “See, Starspark confused the poor cat,” Fleecedart sighed. “Yet Starspark does what she must do,” Moonfern croaked. Earthpelt shook his head, looking slightly disappointed. “Things are all fun and games to her-“ “But she is barely a kit!” Darkheart cried.

“Times are serious now,” Shadowstep intoned in a slow, calm voice. “Um,” Nightstorm cleared his throat. Sunstreak shot him a pointed look, which he ignored. Seven pairs of sharp eyes snapped towards him. “You speak, Creature of Night,” Earthpelt said. “I am not a creature of the night-I am Nightstorm,” he said stubbornly. “Yet look at you-“ Moonfern sighed, but Shadowstep silenced him with a slight swish of his tail. “He must not know yet,” Shadowstep reasoned.

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Nightstorm raised his voice. “Why am I a creature of night, what is this darkness, what do I have to do with it, who is Sunstreak, why did she bring me here, and who are all YOU?” Nightstorm nearly yelled in frustration. Seven pairs of eyes regarded him. “Well, we can see he has a strong mind,” Darkheart said blandly. “Yes, he is not afraid to express his anger to the Sacred Seven,” Fleecedart added, with a slight nip in her voice. Nightstorm nearly growled in annoyance. Sunstreak brings him to these cats, they act all mystical and intelligent and unnatural, and they can’t even give him a straight answer!

“Hush,” Moonfern croaked in his rusty voice. “Your time will come.” “But-““You will learn all you need to know. Soon, Creature of Night. Soon you will be the savior of our day. Soon, but now you need rest,” Moonfern’s cracked voiced was like a worn blanket, tattered and patched, yet full of memories and soft to the touch. “Sleep, dark mystery. Sleep while you can,” he crooned. “What?” Nightstorm mumbled. “Why am I-auhmm,” he sighed, feeling hopelessly sleepy. Not again, he thought. Who were these freaky cats that could make him…fall…asleep at…will…

Awesome!!! Thanks! It was a great read
I loved it <3