The sky shines as bright as Silverpelt shimmers and glows. The dense, green forest is dead quiet, the only sound is the patter of scurrying paws. Red, scarlet blood covers the ferns and grass from the recent battle. Suddenyl, a sharp yowl rises from some brambles, as a queen gives one last effort to let one life live before it takes hers. "No!" cries a torteshell tom, "Don't die, Mosspelt! Don't leave me!" A velvet sac slides out and the black and brown queen's chest stops, eternally. The tom bends his head in sorrow and a tabby, long haired she-cat lays her tail on his shoulders "It's ok, Stickpelt, these things happen." she says. Stickpelt rounds on her and snarls, "It wasn't her time! Starclan is cruel to let this happen. I will not follow cats who let innocent ones die!" Without another word, he races out of the nursery and out barrier of Thunderclan camp. He passes a large, long haired black with brown stripe along stomach and neck to chin she-cat. It's green, sight-less eyes stare out at the sky, claws still unsheathed and a deadly claw mark along it's neck and back. The tabby she'cat watches Stickpelt run out and watches a small, white with black ears tom pad up to her with herbs stuffed in his mouth. He dips his head and muffles, "How is Mosspelt, Brachenface?" Brachenface slowly shakes her head and murmurs, "Not good, I'm afraid." The tom sets the herbs down and examins Mosspelt's body, then his eyes widen in horror. Brachenface nods and mews, "Whitepaw, don't be afraid. She and her kits are safe in Starclan, now." Whitepaw blinks in astonishment, "Her kits?" His mentor nods, then bends down and sniffs each and every kit. She jerks her head up, surprised, and turns to her apprentice. "Go get some chewed stining nettle, hurry!" Whitepaw hurries off to the medicine den to get the herb. Brachen pelt turns back to the kits and stares at one squealing kit. It is a long haired she-cat with a black back bit a brown strip from its tail to its muzzle. Brachenface blinks and looks from the cat in the clearing and then back to the kit. She tilts her head and wonders, I hope my eyes are tricking me, but if you are who I think you are, Starclan has let you life another life, Mosslegs.