Warrior Cats: Wolfheart's Destiny

Chapter 1

         The sun rose bright and early that morning, and the valley forest was glistening in morning lights. A new coat freshly fallen snow blanketed the ground, and a crisp tingle blew with the wind. Delicate strands of ice dangled from the oak trees, glistening in the morning sun's light.

           Wolfkit tossed and turned in her cozy moss nest, in the midst of a deep, enjoyable sleep. Rolling over, she accidentally prodded her den mate, Smokekit. The short-furred black tom shot up, his eyes defensively wild,

"Watch it, Wolfkit!" He spat, his gaze sharp, "I'm trying to sleep!" Widening her green eyes, Wolfkit winced, her ears flattening,

"Sorry, Smokekit," she whimpered, cowering backwards, "I didn't mean to," With a sigh, she curled back into a ball of gray fur.

"You should be," he huffed, turning his back to her. Slowly blinking her wide, green eyes, Wolfkit let out a long breath. Ever since Ferndapple had offered to care for her, Smokekit had been so bitter. It was as if she had stolen his mother. She did, though, feel a twinge of guilt for the tom. Ever since her mother, Wolftooth, had mysteriously been killed, leaving her motherless, she had gone under the wing of Ferndapple, Smokekit's mother. He probably despised her for just swooping in, and stealing the affection of his beloved mother. Wolfkit couldn't blame him for his obvious feelings, but she wished that he wouldn't be so harsh and bitter towards her.

Sleep did not find Wolfkit for a long while after Smokekit had disturbed her. It was as if the chilly winter winds were blowing it away from her and the nursery, keeping her solemn and awake. She tossed and turned in the mossy nest she shared with Ferndapple and Smokekit, her mind wild. Trying to catch a wink of rest, she shut her wide green eyes. Right as her eyes closed, a rush of dreams and visions raced to her mind. The chilly winter wind had ceased, allowing the thoughts and dreams to reach her.

Wolfkit found herself in a rye field, her vision blocked by the swaying grain stalks. It seemed to be leaf-bare, but only the very beginning. A slight wind blew, and flurries of snow tumbled to the icy ground. The landscape was familiar, it seemed to only be a short while ago in time. Desperate to find other life, Wolfkit pelted through the rye field, heart racing. Soon, she reached a clear brook, water frozen in mid-tumble over the scattered stones. All of the sudden, a shriek rang out, echoing over the field. It was a fatal cry, as if a life had just been brutally ended.

"Who is that? Who's there?" Wolfkit cried out, but no one responsed. Shivering in fear, Wolfkit ran on, suddenly transported to a shadowy forest. The gray kit blinked in confusion, averting her eyes from the shadows to see if the rye field was still behind her. It was not. The large, yellow stalks had disappeared, trapping her in the dark, shadowy world she had been transported to.

"Where am I?" Wolfkit shrieked, whirling around to investigate her surroundings. In the distance, a faint light shone. In the center of the illuminated circle, stood a sandy gray shape. What it was was undefinable, but there it stood, looming over her. Dazed, Wolfkit ran in the other direction, to enter a dreamless sleep.

Soon, dawn arrived. Rays of sunlight stretched through the padded nursery walls, dappling the pelts of its inhabitants. The queens and kits all curled up closely together, exchanging warmth in efforts to decrease the power of the chilly winter air.

"Good morning, Wolfkit!" Came the soft coo of Ferndapple, the spotted gray nursery queen. Her soft mew glided through the air like silk, as thick and as sweet as fresh honey.

"Good morning," Wolfkit yawned, ruffling her tabby pelt. The small kit's mind was racing, reminding her of the awful dreams she had seen that night. A shrill mew interrupted her thoughts.