The molly drew her lips back in a snarl, blood roaring in her ears. Her opponent, a marbled cream tabby with a bloodstained pelt, arched their back and fluffed up their pelt. Around them rose caterwauling, snarls, and yelps; flashes of snapping jaws and lashing paws accompanied it. She could see blurred pelts out if the corner of her vision, a cacophony of different colors clashing together in a splay of blood and teeth.

It's ironic how this all started out over a litter of kittens.

Moons ago, a queen's litter vanished from the FenClan nursery without a trace. There were no obvious signs that another Clan had taken them, so FenClan assumed that the kittens merely wandered out of camp. That they would be found, either dead or alive, soon after.

Time passed, however, and still nothing showed up. The leader sent out search parties, told hunting patrols to keep an eye out. Neither found blood, fur, scent, or — auspiciously — bodies. The Clan scoured their territory, even explored beyond the boundaries. It was all fruitless.

When time for the Gathering arrived, FenClan reported the missing kittens. Murmurs swept through the crowd, offering their condolences or sharing their own theories. That was until a small group of Clan cats — each one from a different Clan — stood up and demanded silence. They explained that they had taken the kittens under the cover of a storm, and were holding them until their demands were met.

When asked what this group of thieves wanted, they replied that they simply required a section of territory from each Clan. When their demand was met, they promised to return the kittens to their mother unharmed.

Outraged, FenClan's leader snarled a challenge at the gathered Clans. They declared war on any Clan caught participating with or harboring them within their camps, before storming away. Their Clan followed, shooting fiery glares at the watching Clan cats.

Most of the Clans, unsurprisingly, refused to give up on some of their youngest members. One Clan even welcomed the exiled felines into their own ranks, in return for knowledge on fighting techniques, herbs, or prey.

FenClan found out days later, through border patrols whispering amongst themselves. With renewed anger at the other Clans, at the felines they refused to call Clan cats, FenClan leapt into action.

They planned, they trained, they hunted. FenClan did everything in its power to prepare themselves for the upcoming battle.

The first battle.

This was Mistledawn's first battle, never having fought one even as an apprentice . She was only made a warrior days before, along with four other apprentices, several moons earlier than planned. She and her littermate still had kit fluff around their ears, for StarClan's sake! They couldn't fight, couldn't even fend off a fully grown warrior.

Yet the Clan — their leader — expected them to. To try, to defend, to die for their Clan.

Mistledawn slipped into a clumsy crouch across from the cream tabby, her ears pinned against her skull and kit - blue eyes narrowed. She leapt with a high - pitched hiss, her too small claws outstretched in front of her.

The tabby caught her roughly by the scruff, shaking the molly once before tossing her aside. She skidded across the bloodstained battlefield, something sharp and high buzzing in her ears. Mistledawn climbed to her paws and charged towards the tabby again, a growl bubbling in her throat. They lashed out once as she approached, a deft movement that she almost missed, and she staggered back. A moment later, her legs collapsed out from under her.

She once again stood, ignoring the weird light feeling that swept across and then consumed her screaming body. The tabby arched their back again, their eyes wide and pelt bristling. Mistledawn crouched again, flanks heaving with effort, before throwing herself at her opponent.

Her extended paws passed right through them, colliding painfully on the ground behind them. She whirled around, a snarl forming, when she finally saw it. Saw what the cream tabby was looking at with their shocked, horrified expression.

A small brown and white mottled bundle of fur was laying in a heap, the fur slicked down with blood and rain. Their eyes, a pale blue, were glassy and staring mindlessly ahead. Their jaws, parted in a yowl, were flecked with crimson. Their flanks were still, not even the faintest motion to portray that the feline was still alive.

Their throat, adorned with a massive grinning wound, poured crimson.

Mistledawn stumbled towards the body — her body — with a pained yowl. She reached out with one hesitant paw, gently brushing it against the gaping wound scored across her throat. The molly barely noticed when the tabby turned tail and fled, to absorbed in the flowing blood and eerie stillness of the — her — body.

Something suddenly stirred beside her, a bright light that made her eyes burn. She turned towards it, hackles rising —

and froze as she spotted another molly standing beside her, the feline's dark brown pelt flecked with twinkling stars. The molly's green eyes were rounded with sympathy as she turned to gaze at the young warrior, running her tail lightly across Mistledawn's back.

"It's time to go, my kit," she murmured, brushing against the warrior's side. The brown and white molly leaned against her, finally glancing down at her own star - flecked paws. "I had hoped to see you later than this, but the stars have chosen differently."

The dark brown molly turned and began to pad away, the bright light radiating from her beginning to fade. Mistledawn watched her for only a moment before racing to her side, trotting to keep pace with the molly.

Behind them, the battlefield faded into a soft grey fog, swirling with pale browns and greens. The sounds of the battle, hissing and crying and caterwauling, also began to gradually disappear. It was replaced by a peaceful silence, warm and never ending.

The molly finally faced her again, her tail twitching behind her. "This is the Path of Mist," she explained softly. "This is where a Clan cat's fate after death is decided." With a flourish of her tail, the mist surrounding them began to morph and change. "Follow the path and see what lies in store," the molly murmured, her starlit form beginning to fade. "I hope I'll see you soon."