Ok, so I'm going to write Into the Wild, following the same story but different... So this is the prologue.
As a young tortoiseshell she-cat stalked meaningfully across the clearing, she dodged two young, tabby kits that were play-fighting carelessly. Their mother, a beautiful, white she-cat rushed up, herding her kits back towards the nursery.
“Sorry, Spottedleaf,” she stammered apologetically.
Spottedleaf stopped for a moment and looked back kindly at the queen. “It’s OK, really. They need their practice, after all. A Clan wouldn’t exist without its kits.”
“Yes, but kits need to learn their manners.”
“They’re young. Let them have their fun. They won’t be allowed to behave that way once they grow up.”
“You know I love my kits, Spottedleaf. Nothing gives me more joy than them,” the white queen looked back at her kits.
“Like any normal queen, Frostfur,” Spottedleaf assured her. “Your behaviour, I expect of you.”
Frostfur nodded gratefully. Two more kits stumbled ungracefully towards her, this time a grey she-cat, next to a white and ginger she-cat. Frostfur bent down and gave them both a lick. The grey one flinched away from her mother.
Spottedleaf moved on, leaving Frostfur to her kits. She approached an elderly blue-furred she-cat who was sharing words with a magnificent golden tom and a small-shaped tortoiseshell tom with a bushy tail. She sat patiently a few tail-lengths away, angling her ears towards the conversation.
“I saw him again today,” the she-cat was saying. “I think he will venture here soon. I need an apprentice to keep watch on him.”
“Dustpaw is a ready apprentice. He is able,” the red tom replied. “Or Sandpaw, of course; she has the blood of a great warrior.”
The blue she-cat protested. “As much as I believe your apprentice is great, and your daughter, for that matter, I fear their mind might not give them directions worth following, Redtail.”
Redtail was quick to reply. “What do you mean?”
“Dustpaw has a worthy mentor, and Sandpaw a worthy father, I will not argue. But they themselves may not be capable.”
“We’re watching a kittypet, Bluestar; it’s not a major decision.”
“Redtail, remember,” the golden tabby cut in, his voice rough. “We don’t want to kill him. It could lead his Twolegs into the forest looking for him, and that won’t be good for us.”
“Who will, then?” Redtail snapped, clearly not happy his apprentice and his daughter had both been rejected.
Bluestar looked thoughtful. “Call me crazy, but I was thinking of Graypaw.”
“You’re crazy!” Redtail complained. “He was made an apprentice just yesterday!”
“I am aware, Redtail, I did perform the ceremony myself, you know,” Bluestar replied, her voice calm and patient. “But Graypaw is a well-built tom, and he is fairly capable, from what I’ve seen from him so far.”
“He’s not even left camp before.”
“I did consider Dustpaw originally, but I decided he would act too fiercely, and not give him a chance. We want him to survive, like Lionheart said. It will not only be Graypaw’s first warrior task—we won’t tell him the plan. I want to see how he reacts to an intruder on our territory. If all goes well, he should attack but not do too much damage.”
Redtail sighed, realizing Bluestar was right. Then a muscular dark brown tabby tom burst into the clearing. “RiverClan are hunting on Sunningrocks!” he yowled.
Bluestar nodded; no surprise or urgency in her eyes. “Redtail, go with Tigerclaw. Take Ravenpaw and other warriors with you.”
Redtail got up to summon others.
“And me?” Lionheart asked.
“Stay at camp. Tonight, you will send Graypaw near the kittypet’s nest and we will witness what he decides to do.”
Lionheart nodded proudly and stalked away.
Spottedleaf took this as her chance and stood up taking a few steps towards Bluestar, her mind whirling.
“Bluestar,” Spottedleaf began. “Do you have a minute?”
Bluestar nodded and turned, leading the way into a hollow inside a rock, pushing her way past the lichen that shielded it. She settled herself in the lightest corner and looked up at Spottedleaf expectantly. Spottedleaf sat down and wrapped her tail around her paws.
“StarClan sent me a sign, Bluestar. I felt the need to notify you.”
Bluestar’s ears immediately pricked with interest. “Last night?”
Spottedleaf nodded. “Yes.”
Bluestar waited for a moment until Spottedleaf realized she was waiting for her to continue.
“I couldn’t sleep so I went out for a walk. I think I fell asleep under a tree eventually and StarClan came to me. They showed me a Clan—I could see several I recognized: you, Whitestorm, Longtail, Mousefur, Dustpaw, and Sandpaw… the rest were too blurred. A ring of fire surrounded them but they didn’t seem scared of it, almost as if it was one of them. I could hear barks, but they were distant. A tiger tried to get to the Clan, but it was killed by the fire. Darkness tried to overwhelm it, but the Clan wasn’t affected. And finally, blood tried to seep through the fire, but it couldn’t get to the Clan. Then a voice rang in my ear—Featherwhisker. He said, ‘Fire alone can save our Clan.’”
Bluestar stared. “But fire is feared most. It destroys us. How can it save us?”
Spottedleaf shook her head, looking just as confused. “It was my dream. StarClan are never straight-forward with their warnings, after all. Keep that in mind.”
“It never left my mind, Spottedleaf; I know how their communication with us works. But it could be so much easier if they only gave us a more specific idea… How will fire save us? And what will fire save us from? Is there a worse danger out there?
Spottedleaf’s eyes clouded with worry.
Bluestar seemed to understand. “I may just have three lives left, Spottedleaf, but that won’t stop me. I will fight to the end of my last life for the sake of my Clan. And I know my warriors will be in safe paws. Redtail is very capable.”
“Bluestar, I am aware of what you will do. But maybe you have too much faith in your deputy? What makes you think he’ll survive until you lose your last?”
“He has survived whilst I lost my first six lives. He can survive for three more. And if not,” Bluestar paused, her eyes looking worried. “Lionheart will make just as good a leader.”
“Bluestar…” Spottedleaf started.
“Stop, Spottedleaf,” Bluestar interrupted. “I have no interest in your fears.”
Spottedleaf nodded respectively. She was just backing out of Bluestar’s den when her leader spoke again.
“Maybe fire can help us,” she murmured quietly to herself and Spottedleaf wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear. Bluestar looked into Spottedleaf’s eyes. “But not in the way we think.”
Spottedleaf backed out of her leader’s den and witnessed Mousefur leaving the clearing at the back of the patrol.
As Tigerclaw arrived at Sunningrocks with his patrol, he flung his large head about wildly, in search for one particular cat. He stopped when he saw him. He was another tabby, but of a smaller shape. Tigerclaw dived for him and landed squarely on his shoulders. He bit into the RiverClan warrior’s shoulder and he yowled in pain, but didn’t back away. Tigerclaw knew this would be a hard duel.
The smaller tom writhed under Tigerclaw’s bite. He finally released him, and pounced again, tearing his claws down his haunches.
“Oakheart,” Tigerclaw hissed as he whipped his opponent around and glaring deep into his eyes. “You shall never hunt on Sunningrocks again. You have no right.”
“Not yet, Tigerclaw, no,” Oakheart argued with just as much menace. “But Sunningrocks is RiverClan’s by right and it will be again.”
Tigerclaw hissed and leaped with great force but Oakheart rammed himself into Tigerclaw’s belly, making him gasp, winded. He rolled over quickly so he didn’t leave his belly vulnerable for too long. They both charged and writhed around together on the ground for a while. Redtail rushed up and tore his claws down Oakheart’s side.
“Tigerclaw,” Redtail gasped urgently. His sides were heaving; he had a swollen eye, and a torn ear which was making blood trickle into his good eye. “It’s no use. We have to retreat. Mousefur’s limping already, and we’re seriously outnumbered. We’ll return again, when things are better.”
Tigerclaw hissed at Redtail. “Never shall we back down. Die in battle, or be called wimps.”
“Then wimps we are. It’s better to have a Clan of wimps than a small Clan of injured cats. Do you not fear for anyone’s safety? What about Goldenflower’s?”
Tigerclaw spat. “We want to be feared, so our territory is never invaded. How can we be feared if we run just moments after attacking?”
“ThunderClan is a strong Clan, but we must wait for more back-up. We shall return.” Redtail’s tone was forceful—he was reminding Tigerclaw without saying it that he was deputy.
Tigerclaw growled, but he no longer argued. He would never run away from battle, but now he had no choice. Redtail’s word was law.
Tigerclaw let out a yowl of defiance. ThunderClan cats immediately wriggled free from their opponents and followed Redtail, who had already fled. Tigerclaw stood looking at the only remaining ThunderClan cat besides himself: Mousefur. The young she-cat was trapped underneath a well-muscled, fresh RiverClan tom. Tigerclaw thought about going back to help her. Then he realized that he wished not to save the life of Mousefur. Thoughts rushed through his mind. Would he if it was Bluestar? Would he if it was Goldenflower? Redtail knew of Tigerclaw’s feelings for Goldenflower.
Instead of helping Mousefur, however, he took a step back and reluctantly followed Redtail, leaving Mousefur to her death.
Thanks. Sorry its not very good. :)