Birth of HeartClan

Prologue

Shadowheart raced through the forest, her stomach bulging with the kits she carried. Her mouth hung open, breathing in the scents of the forest; the trees and the smell of prey, but above all there was a scent that caused her thin fur to bristle, the scent of Windclan warriors.

Her paws scarcely touched the ground; it appeared as if she were flying. She moved with the grace and agility of a young warrior, taking no notice to her increasing exhaustion.

The she-cat skidded to a stop, if only to catch her breath. Her ears swiveled, listening to the sounds of the night. Somewhere in the dark came the yowling of angry cats. The queen raced off again, her sides heaving with every breath.

She slid down a muddy slope, the unnatural glow of the twoleg place getting closer and closer. Surely the warriors wouldn't follow her there. She skidded to a halt for a second time, at the edge of the Thunderpath. She looked left, and then she looked right; she strained her ears for any sound of an approaching monster; she heard nothing, and so she darted across.

The hard surface hurt her paws as she pounded across to the safety of the other side. She dared to turn around, looking towards the golden eyes that shone bright in the darkness. The cats skidded to a halt, unwilling to cross the Thunderpath for fear of being hit by a monster. The leading cat, an dark orange tom with white paws, stepped into view.

"Leave me alone, Darkflame," The she-cat snapped.

"You can't run forever, Shadowheart," The orange tom hissed, "Sooner or later, we'll track you down!"

"I'd like to see you try."

With this, Shadowheart raced off through the twoleg place, not looking back as she made her way past the many rows of nests. She slowed to a steady trot, taking in the many scents that stung her nose. She wheezed, the burning scent causing her eyes to water. She couldn't wait to put this place behind her, and to find a safe place for her and her kits.

She did not know how long she walked, it could have been days, or even a moon. Night and day came and passed, yet she took no notice. She never stopped, not even to hunt. She walked through many twoleg places and crossed over many Thunderpaths, but still she did not stop. She didn't know where she was heading, all she knew is it would be far, far away. A place where Darkflame would never find her.

Her journey eventually lead her to an open pasture, fields stretching for as far as her scarlet eyes could see. She blinked, scanning the open moorland as the scent of prey filled her senses, reminding her of just how hungry she was. How long had it been since she'd eaten? Days? Moons? She shook the thought from her head, instead focusing on the place that could be her new home.

It was too open for her liking, but it would have to do; at least there were no scent of twolegs. The sweet aroma was almost unbearable, and it was nearly impossible to pick out individual scents. But that could be a good thing. Sure, it would be hard to scent the prey, but that meant it would also be hard for them to scent her.

A shockwave shot through her body; all her senses seemed to forget her hunger and exhaustion, instead warning her to find shelter. She quickened her pace, scanning through the tall grass for any sign of a den. The tall blades were impossible to navigate by sight, and so she relied solely on her sense of smell to guide her through the maze.

She caught the scent of rabbit, though it was stale. She followed the scent, which eventually lead her to a tiny hole in the ground, leading down into a burrow fit for a rabbit. Taking one last look around, the queen slithered down into the hole and into the darkness that lie below.

The she-cat panted heavily, feeling weaker than she could ever remember. She reached in the darkness, pulling the three squirming sacs close to her. She had witnessed many kits being born in her clan, and she knew exactly what to do. She carefully nipped each sac, allowing all of the kits to get their first breath of air. She pulled them into the curve of her belly and, as they began to nurse, she licked their fur in the opposite direction to keep them warm.

A deep purr erupted in Shadowheart as the kits pressed their tiny paws against her stomach, drinking greedily. She laid her head back down, exhausted. She would have to hunt soon, but for now all she wanted to do was rest.