Chapter 5

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     Ice-cold rain pelted against Spottedpaw's fur, each droplet sending a sensation of shock straight to her bones. The trees around her swayed with the lashing wind; the river in the gorge below her thrashed wildly from shore to distant shore. Overwhelmed by the turbulent weather, Spottedpaw retreated from the edge of the gorge, squeezing into the cave entrance behind her. Agitated voices carried through the cave systems and she hastened her pace as she tried to discern the conversation. She halted only when she could see into the main cave, unsure of whether or not she should reveal herself to the bickering cats ahead of her. Spottedpaw peeked her head out of the tunnel slightly and blinked quickly to adjust her eyes to the darkness. The molly had to hold back a gasp as she saw who sat arguing ahead of her.

     "I have tried warning you," a familiar smoky tom growled, though there was a hint of distress in his voice. What was Shadestar doing here? She had thought he was merely a figment of her imagination. With a closer look at the two quarreling cats, she noticed that the other cat looked just like Shadestar—albeit slightly smaller and much darker in the dim light of the cave. "The path you're forging is reckless and you're endangering the lives of every cat around you."

     "This is the best path for the Clans," the other tom snarled sharply. "You wouldn't understand. You'd grown too soft in your moons of leadership." Shadestar narrowed his eyes and padded closer towards the other cat—so much so that their noses nearly touched. "Watch yourself, you old fleabag. The cats at the gorge are no longer yours to command and they readily shared my feelings about how things should be run here. Keep in mind," the tom narrowed his eyes and sat down, "that you being in StarClan doesn't grant you protection. I know that you can die permanently as a resident among the stars." His tone dripped with venomous sarcasm while Spottedpaw noticed a flash of fear in Shadestar's eyes. Behind the two toms, the faintest flash of blue caught her attention—as though what little light entered the caves were reflecting off of some cat's eyes. Even more unnerving was the feeling that this hidden cat was looking straight at Spottedpaw while the other cats hadn't seemed to notice her presence in the tunnel. She felt chilled to her bone when she caught the icy gaze.

     Another growl ripped her attention back to the argument. Spottedpaw tensed and, right as she was about to intervene, the floor of the cave fell out from under her paws. What is this? Her mind was reeling as she spun through empty darkness. This was no cave-in or landslide. Her vision was pitch black, but she heard the echoes of the arguing cats growing fainter and fainter. Right when her stomach started flipping from her seemingly endless spinning she was granted vision once again with a harsh thud against a cold forested floor. Though the relentless rain from earlier had stopped, the ground beneath her paws was soaked and the leaves littering the forest floor were soggy and cold. Spottedpaw struggled to her paws and lurched forward as her vision swayed back and forth, waves of nausea crashing into her at full force. Even as her vision cleared and her nausea receded, heavy confusion still clouded her mind. She grew even more confused yet when she saw that all around her were snarling and growling cats lined up with their teeth bared and claws at the ready. Ahead of her was the strange tom from the cave. His dark amber eyes were narrowed at something behind her and when she turned around she saw four others holding their heads with dignity. 

     "Stop while you've got the chance, Crowstar," a thick-furred white molly growled softly. "Your actions here will change the entire dynamic of the Clans. Cats will die—StarClan will never forgive you. Is that what you want?"

     "Those who die today are worthy sacrifices to the future we need in this forest," the tom, Crowstar, retorted. "You've all grown soft with your ways. And StarClan!" The dark leader gave a snort of mockery. "To the Dark Forest with them. They're a bunch of dead cats, Ivorystar—what good would listening to them do?" There was a collective gasp from the cats surrounding them, and Spottedpaw began growing claustrophobic as a few began to close in on the dark leader. 

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