Okay…the prologue of Scarlet Sky, Book Two: The Fury of the Storm. Enjoy.

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The night was warm and quiet. The green-leaf moon was bright and wide – almost full. The Gathering would be coming soon. But the two cats that were out and about that night were not thinking about the coming event. No, they were thinking about each other.

A tomcat made his way silently through the bushes, his amber eyes flickering warily around him. His paws danced across the leaves, eager to go faster. His whiskers quivered, alert to any movement.

The tom sped through the forest, his handsome fur ruffling in the green-leaf breeze. Soon, he reached a small, babbling creek, and there he stopped, scenting the air. He sat down carefully, and waited.

A moment later, there was a rustle in the bushes on the other side of the stream. The tom arched his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature that was coming. As the cat emerged, for a cat it was, his face lit up, and he purred softly.

"I was afraid you weren't going to be here," murmured the other, a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat.

The tomcat purred. "Of course I'm here. I look forward to these meetings like a kit awaiting his apprentice ceremony. Not even StarClan could keep me from seeing you."

The tortoiseshell smiled and leaped lightly across the stream. She pressed her pretty pelt against his, and nudged his flank affectionately.

"I love you," the tomcat purred, wrapping his tail around the she-cat.

"I love you too."

The two cats lay down beside each other, their two ecstatic purrs mingling to form one steady rumble. Suddenly, the she-cat broke off, and turned to look into the eyes of her love.

"There's something I have to tell you," she murmured. The tomcat stopped purring and stiffened. The tortoiseshell licked his ear. "Don't worry. I'll always love you."

The tomcat relaxed. "What is it then?" he meowed, in a voice as smooth as honey.

"I'm expecting kits."

The tomcat looked uncertain, and pulled his tail away from her shoulders, his eyes searching. The tortoiseshell let out a distressed mew.

"Aren't you happy?"

The tom hesitated, watching her. After a moment the tortoiseshell let out a short bark of laughter. "Don't look so anxious! They're yours, mouse-brain!"

The tom looked relieved, and once again drew her close.

"That's great," he meowed.

The light of the moon began to wan, and after a long time of sitting beside each other, sharing tongues, the two cats rose and said their goodbyes, each slipping away, back to their separate Clans; the she-cat racing back across the marshy ground to her camp, and the tom streaking back through the forest to his home, his handsome fur ruffling in the warm, green-leaf breeze.