...Prologue...

A small serrated leaf fell swirling into the air, landing amongst its brethren in a brilliant autumn mosaic on the forest floor. The remaining leaves in the low cast tree wavered in the steady breeze, like golden and scarlet flags. Light glared from behind the hills – swathing the pale pelt of a small cat perched on the highest branch – as the sun slowly sank beneath the firmament. The white cats white fur stood out among the autumn hues. While its pale lime eyes were wide as if taking in the world, they were fixed on nothing. A haze had crept over them and the cat seemed oblivious to his surroundings. It sat tensely, its fur trembling along its spine.

A large grey cat stood in a drooping tree. Puckered pink scars cut through its pelt, bare where only tufts of pallid fur grew around them. One extended from the corner of its left eye and cut a few inches across its muzzle. It had only one ear, what remained of the other was an impression on the side of the cats head covered sparsely by fur. But what was most conspicuous about it was its fiery copper eyes, with a malevolent slit of black within. As it swung its gaze around towards him, the leaves upon the tree began to blacken and wilt. Ashen snow fell silently from the sky, and settled on the withering branches of the tree. Then the air then was thick with black snow, falling in flurry. The grey cat was still completely visible, his eyes burning in the darkness. Then other glaring crimson lights blinked to existence in the seemingly night, like the pairs of many, many eyes. The grey cat opened its maw to expose great glinting fangs – as if in an appalling grin - a raw throaty growl rose in the air. Other sounds filled the night, snarls and strange yowling.

The white tom seemed to flinch – he has seen this already before, he knew what came next.

An ear-splitting wail shrouded all other noises. The scream of a dying cat. Blood seemed to seep out of the darkness, staining the black.

More wails rose to meet the first.

The white cat surged forwards, a strange strangled yowl emerged from his mouth. His pupils dilated till they left only a thin rim of green in his eyes. His pale fur stood outward, his ears flattened tightly against his head. The branch beneath him trembled, a few leaves shook loose and fluttered to the ground. The white cat dug his claws deeply into the bark of the tree, seeming to have overcome his bizarre outburst. His fur slowly flattened, and his eyes narrowed. With a stiff step backward, the cat turned and leapt from the tree landing lightly on his paws. Before making off, he turned his head to the bloody sky, crimson strewn through a dying blue. His eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun as it descended.

Why do I keep seeing these things?

The white cat shuddered and then shook his head, uneasiness filling his eyes.

Why do I even have these visions in the first place?

He remembered the old dusky gray medicine cat, telling him that they were sent by starclan. "So many questions, I see them Wintertail, but the answers I cannot give you. Whether these visions take part in the future or past, only time will give you your answers. Starclan gives them to you for a reason, know that," Marshfoot had told him.

Why would starclan send them to me? What's so important about me! Why not to another cat, some one better... better than me.

Anger then flashed across his pallid lime eyes, like a shock of emerald and the white cat turned hastily into the forest.

...Burrkit...

A tabby kit snaked forward through the scrub, body held inches from the ground. His pelt was a tawny silver, with hints of russet along his back and spread across his face. With intense black stripes and dark paw pads. His golden eyes intent on the silver fur showing between the pale tiny notched leaves of a bush. He silently crept around the plant. He could see the sleek curve of a back and shoulder, and a long glossy tail. The kit sank to the ground - his hips shimmying and his own furry tail lashing behind him. The silver she-cat ears flicked backward, hearing the kit rustling behind her in the wilted leaves that blanketed the forest floor. She raised a slim paw and began grooming it thoroughly in a pretence of nonchalance.

With a single tense step forward the tabby kit sprang into the air, paws outstretched.

Suddenly the she-cat ducked, and he hurdled over her. With a yelp of surprise the kit collided with a pale shape. He landed against it with a soft 'thump' and to his astonishment it began to shift underneath him. With a screech the kit surged off it, and scampered between the silver she-cats paws, peering out from behind them. The she-cat above him laughed, swiping him softly with a slender paw.

"What do you think you're doing here, huh?" her voice was light and pleasant, no threat within it.

Bewildered he snuck a peek at the mysterious figure.

It was a slight white tom, lying curled upon a sheet of stone protruding from the forest floor. He watched the kit steadily with pale lime eyes.

"Wintertail?" the kit asked hesitantly.

The white cat simply nodded, a slight smile splitting his amused expression.

"You can never sneak up on me little kit, my senses are too sharp," the silver she-cat teased.

"I almost had you, you wait! When I become an apprentice I will easily best you!" the kit replied adamantly.

"Of course you will," the she-cat mused.

"I'm glad you think that, Mistfur" the kit purred, unaware of the sarcastic tone in the she-cats soft voice. Mistfur ignored his reply, her emerald eyes gleaming with amusement. Mistfur pelt was slightly tinged with blue with a faded shock of white upon her chest.

"I will be such a good fighter - I could fight a fox!" the tabby kit whispered to himself.

With a quick grin Mistfur batted at him again, pinning him on his back with a paw. "I don't think so furball. I mean, you're afraid of Wintertail over there," She laughed.

"I am not! He's just ... just ..." the tabby kit paused, at lost for words.

Wintertail chuckled. Then rose, arching his back and yawning – displaying keen pearly fangs. The tabby kit flinched at the sight of them.

"Come on you two, let's take Burrkit back to camp" He said. Burrkit opened his mouth as if to speak, but then shut it swiftly when her realised Wintertail was staring at him. Mistfur released the tabby kit and padded to him, together they started back. Mistfur wheeled around realising that the kit wasn't following them.

"Hey Burrkit. You coming?"

"Uh ...yeah" the tabby kit replied, rushing after them, keeping a fair distance from Wintertail.

"I'm not that scary am I?" The white warrior mused to Mistfur.

Mistfur shot him an appalled look. "I don't know, you're pretty creepy."

Wintertail cuffed her playfully over the head.

...

Willowclans territory stretched over a vast undulating plane of tall grasses. Willows obviously were the most common trees, looking almost sad – as if they were weeping – with their drooping branches with long trailers of small rounded leaves. Lichen covered the greyish bark and moss hung from the willows branches like drapes. The occasional hole between their roots – rabbits being the most common prey. To the south vast snow topped peaks loomed over the landscape – Frostclans scrubby forests around the base. A great river divided another area of trees from the field. A temperate forest extended a few miles over the rivers banks over into Willowclans territory. Cinderclan presided on the other side. A small patch of forest was in the fields as well, inside Willowclans camp carefully concealed in bramble and scrub. The largest willow leaned over the camp, its branches dense leaves fanning out over the camp like an umbrella – obscuring it from prying eyes in the taller trees or from hawks above. A particularly thick mossy branch hung lowly over the camp. A pale silver she-cat rested on it, surveying her clan with amber eyes as they milled about in the clearing below. Beneath her a large smokey dark grey tom glanced up at her anxiously. Hesitating, he licked a patch of white fur on his chest and then sprang up to the branch.

"Shimmerstar?" he asked gruffly.

The silver she-cat fixed him with cautious eyes. "There has been another one, hasn't there?" her voice was soft, but serious – she sounded almost apprehensive.

"Yes..."

"Who was it this time Shalefur?"

Shalefur looked down at his paws, his golden eyes guilty.

"Fern-" At the mention of the word Shimmerstar went ashen under her pelt.

"No! Not Fernpaw," Shimmerstar growled, her tail lashing behind her. Although her fur was flattened Shalefur could see the anger in her amber eyes. "You are telling me my sister's daughter is gone... are you sure!" she snarled at Shalefur, who flinched at her tone.

"Are you sure!"

"Shimmerstar, I am sorry ... there was blood ... everywhere."

The silver she-cat groaned. Then she fixed Shalefur with a tormented expression. "You, you will tell Dawnclaw." Then she rested her head on her paws, eyes hazy. Shalefur shot her a glance and then leapt down to the clearing. Moving stiffly, he padded to a brindled beige she-cat and began whispering softly to her. At first the queens gaze was guarded and then her green eyes widened with surprise. Spitting she swiped her claws down the deputies muzzle, hissing with outrage. Shalefur leapt back with surprise, blood trickling down his face and then dripping onto the dusty ground. Dawnclaw howled something and then bristling went to strike him again. A black she-cat charged towards her, cutting her off. When Dawnclaw tried to shoulder past her she knocked her down, pinning her to the floor.

"He killed her! He let her die!" Dawnclaw spat, struggling against the black she-cats grip.

"I did not, she ... disappeared on patrol," Shalefur whispered, stunned.

"You took her on the patrol," The brindle queen snarled. "You let Fernpaw die!"

"I didn-"

"I'll kill you!" she hissed, cutting him off. "My baby ... my little Fernpaw" Dawnclaw then whined, going limp beneath the black cats paws. Her anger seemed to have evaporated, her eyes glazed with pain and hurt.

"I am so... so sorry" Shalefur said gently.

"My little Fernpaw. Why you... why ever you?" she whimpered in reply.

"If I let you up Dawnclaw, will you come with me to the nursery?" The black she-cat asked softly.

"Oh Fernpaw," Dawnclaw mumbled.

Gingerly, the black she-cat slowly released her. The brindle queen remained on the ground, her eyes closed, mumbling quietly. The black she-cat nudged her softly, and Dawnclaw staggered to her paws. Guiding her to the nursery – a den carved into the bank of a rise, underneath the willows roots. With a single small entrance surrounded by ferns and brush. Oddly it was silent, no mews of kits or muffled hushing of the queens. Shalefur stood where he was, crimson still dripping from the slashes across his nose. After a while the black she-cat slipped from the entrance and padded over to him.

"Fawnwind is comforting her," She whispered. "I hate to ask, but... is Fernpaw really gone?"

Shalefur nodded. "She simply vanished from the group, she was lagging behind. It took us too long to realise she was gone."

"But, if there's no body she might not be dead?"

"Shadefoot, when we found where she must have been. There was so much blood... I don't know if she survived."

"What's happening Shalefur," Shadefoot asked anxiously.

"I, I don't know," he choked. "Something terrible."

"So three cats have disappeared now. What about the other clans? Are they killing our cats?"

Shalefur's golden eyes hardened. "Tonight at gathering, we will find out. If the other clans are responsible, we will make them pay" he growled.

Suddenly a wail came from the nursery. "My kit! Where are you" It was Fawnwind's distraught voice. Shalefur raced over and peered inside, seeing the pale ginger queens anxious face and an indifferent Dawnclaw muttering in the corner. Two frightened kits hid beneath the ginger queen, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"What is it?"

"Burrkit! He's disappeared, what if whatever got Fernpaw has him!" she yowled.

At the mention of Fernpaw, Dawnclaw swung around, her eyes wild. "I kill it, I swear it Fawnwind, that if it gets Burrkit too I kill it," she growled, rising to her paws.

"No, I will find him," Shalefur told her firmly, but cautiously – the wound on his nose still stinging. "You stay here... please."

Dawnclaw hissed, but remained where she was. Shalefur rushed out of the nursery. Shadefoot glanced uneasily at him when he emerged. "What is it?" Shalefur's gaze darted around the clearing before answering her.

"Burrkit's gone, I'm going to look for him." Shalefur snapped easily back into command mode, unlike how bewildered he was when Dawnclaw attacked him. "Burrkit has disappeared from the nursery" he yowled to the surrounding cats. "I will be taking a patrol of cats to look for him. Rainwhisker, Jayflight and Shadefoot will come with me." Shalefur looked up at Shimmerstar, who blinked slowly and then nodded.

"I will too" A small brown furred apprentice sat in front of him, his tawny gold eyes peering at him. Remembering what had happened to Fernpaw, Shalefur flinched.

"No Hazelpaw, no apprentices." Shalefur told him, and then leapt towards the entrance, his party of cats behind him.

...

I have edited this chapter since I put it up. It turns out that originally one of the cats Shalefur picks to find Burrkit is dead in a one-shot I wrote and plan to put up. So now Blackfang has been switched with Jayflight. Sorry for the confusion.

I have also changed the headings. So to sepearate the different parts of this story. AND edited the last part so that it is completely from Shalefurs veiw instead of switching back and forth between. Thanks to Amber who pointed that out :)