Midnight blue enveloped the skies as night settled over the forest. The creatures of the day remained sleeping, while their counterparts silently crept through the darkness. Aside from the howling winds and the stars from above, all was peaceful. Suddenly, the wind stopped blowing and the sound of approaching paw steps broke the stillness that was once there. In the center of the forest stood the Gathering Tree, the location where all clan cats meet with one another during the full moon. The waning crescent appeared from behind the clouds and its light shone on the ancient tree; from it, four silhouettes took form in the shape of four cats with pure white fur, and eyes that were as black as coal.

"It is time," the leader of the group commanded.

The tom beckoned his companions to follow him. All four felines made a spot for themselves amongst the branches before commencing with the planned meeting.

"Things are not going as plan," his voice was uncertain and fragile.

One of the spirits, a molly, growled bitterly at the claim. Everyone turned and watched as her eyes blazed white with fury and her fur reverted to her original calico skin.

"This is unacceptable," she protested angrily. "The cats we have chosen are supposed to unite and prepare for the future battle with our enemies; instead, two of them off in pursuit of females!"

"Oceanpelt," the other Starclan cat retorted. "Are you suggesting that we interfere with their affairs?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Auraheart," Oceanpelt sneered. "They must remember that their actions can have an impact, not just on them, but for everyone else!"

"They are," the Starclan cat countered. "These warriors are beginning to realize what is important and will eventually make the right choice. However, that does not justify with interfering with their lives!"

"Are you suggesting that we allow this taboo to continue between the Shadowclan and Windclan cat? In addition, the other tom - he has focused more on obtaining the heart of the she-cat than he should be on his part in the plan! This foolhardy must end before-"

"Enough!"

All eyes shifted toward the final tom, whose appearance reverted to that of his original self: his fur and whiskers remained white, to indicate his age at the time of his death. The only difference was that his eyes now glow the color blue.

"What Auraheart says is true, Oceanpelt," the elder faced the molly audaciously. "Though it would benefit our clan, we cannot interfere in their personal life. It is up to them to determine what they can/cannot do with the freedom they possess; all we can do is offer them wisdom and hope for the best."

The Riverclan warrior snorted in disbelief but remained silent. The tension that formed around the spirits seemed to have lessened but their expressions were grim and full of suspicion - not toward each other, but at what was currently happening in the living. One of the felines, whose appearance reverted to that of a dark-blue tom, was the first to address the situations to his allies.

"As you all are currently aware of," the tom spoke. "Some-cat or something has been terrorizing our homes and clans for some time."

"'Terror' is not the choice of word I would use to describe the level of anarchy," Auraheart responded with disgust.

"I, too, agree to that statement," Oceanpelt added. "What the clans are suffering from aren't normal ambushes or attacks courtesy of neighboring rogues, but intentional murders!"

"It is no longer mere coincidence," Graywhiskers sneered, as though the very thought of the killings made him nauseous. "It hasn't even been a full month and already there have been reports of numerous cats are killed and left to decay or be eaten by crows."

The small group nodded in agreement at the confirmed problem but it did little to ease the fear that lingered in their psyches. Neither one wanted to admit it, but it was clear that fear was beginning to settle in the Starclan Spirit's core. Not once in the history of the four clans had such an atrocity of this magnitude ever been planned out so thoroughly and actually carried out; this was not some mere threat nor invasion tactic, but something far worse.

"What do you make of these attacks, Breezefur," Graywhiskers asked.

The tom shut his eyelids and thought. It was obvious as to why these ominous events were transpiring, but he wanted to try to understand as to what they actually meant. At last, Breezefur made his statement, and it was not a positive one: "From what I can make out," he commented. "These crimes not only validate the coming of the storm that we have previously discussed, but it most likely meant to symbolize a declaration of war between the clan cats and those who have yet to be discovered."

"Is it possible that the reason behind these events is to intimidate the others and cause total hysteria among the current generation?" Auraheart questioned.

"So it would seem," Graywhiskers replied.

Oceanpelt pondered on the hypothesis and growled threateningly. "What a cowardly tactic," she said at last. "However, it proves to be beneficial to our enemies. Not only that, but it would appear that the enemy are using warrior techniques."

Auraheart was the first to respond. "So our own warriors are siding with the adversary," her voice suddenly drained. "How could they?"

"Numerous reasons, Auraheart," Graywhiskers said. "Regardless, though, our chosen warriors must be informed of any changes that will transpire in the near future; also, just as we agreed from before, we must send a message to those whom we feel will be able to support them in their cause."

Every cat, excluding Oceanpelt, murmured in agreement at the previous plan.

"We don't have much time," Breezefur warned. "Everything is riding on these two gambles; if we fail, then all is lost. The plan must go into effect without any delay!"

"Then what are we waiting for," Oceanpelt snapped. "Let us make haste!"

"Agreed," Auraheart meowed.

Afterwards, the two she-cats dissolved and made their return back toward home. Only Breezefur and Graywhiskers remained and their expressions were not as optimistic as their fellow companions were. Graywhiskers faced the Starclan cat and his eyes showed concerns.

"Are you sure we are doing the right thing, Breezefur," the former elder voiced with uncertainty.

"To be honest...I don't know," the tom admitted. "Nonetheless, all we can do is hope that the choice we made was the right one, and that our own warriors do the right thing in the end."