The brook prattling along its rocky course seemed to be conversing wordlessly with the wind murmuring in the trees. Bitter air nipped at the water's edge and turned the shallows to ice. Droplets that sprayed from the brook's currents sprinkled upon the massive rock shards scattered near the gorge, and they all froze upon contact. The stars twinkled coldly above, though not much light escaped from their depths. It was eerie yet beautiful concoctions of sounds and scenery.
Against the wall of glittering light from the river sat two feline-like silhouettes; the wind ruffled and played with their semi-long coats, and caused the pair to shiver. The bigger out of the two, possibly a tom from the looks of his stature, lifted his gaze to the stars. His brilliant, fire-like eyes reflected the sky like two crystalline pools of water. The other beside him, a she-cat, looked over at him with distant blue eyes. A puff of soft, warm air escaped her lips as she sighed, letting a small cloud lift to the sky before her muzzle. The tom looked back over at her and shook his head. "I just don't understand," He murmured. "Our ancestors are supposed to be here to guide us through this.. Turmoil, but they seem so distant lately. It's as if they've abandoned us and our Clan." The she-cat simply shook her head and looked away. She settled herself down at the water's edge a moment later and allowed her paw to rest against the river's icy rim. "They haven't abandoned us. Rowanberry," she mewed, "you above all should understand this." The tom pursed his lips but said nothing more. "Perhaps they are simply testing us. And besides all that," she continued without preamble, "you are the medicine cat. I'm sure they will send you something soon." The tom's fiery eyes flashed indignantly.
"I may be the medicine cat, Swallowstar, but perhaps you have forgotten my faith in these cats is pretty weak. They should know not to test my patience."
Both he and Swallowstar fell silent; neither of the two even dared to glance in the other's direction out of fear of meeting an unwelcome gaze. Swallowstar's whistling breath was the only thing heard above the rambling of the stream, and this seemed to alarm her. Just a few moments ago the wind was tickling the branches of trees, but it suddenly had stopped. The leader's eyes quickly adverted Rowanberry's equally frightened eyes and landed upon the star-strewn sky. Their twinkling did nothing to comfort her. Instead, they seemed to be whispering to her. Something... Malicious,
"Beware of the darkness that lies deep from within. The trout shall turn soiled and the trees shall whither upon their roots. The forest will curl and die upon itself, and only one possesses the power to save your storm. The blood of the ripest berry is to be spilled before there is peace."
Swallowstar and Rowanberry threw each other a horrified glance. This was what they had been waiting for.
The word from StarClan had come.
***
