In the cold night, two pairs of glowing lights appeared in the distance, heralding the approach of a monster. It roared past on a Thunderpath that rose high into the sky, filling the air with foul-smelling fumes.

At the edge of the Thunderpath, a cat shifted, its eyes glinting in the shadows. Pointed ears twitched, then flattened against the noise. More ears followed one by one, into the soft grass.

"What if the monster moves out of the Thunderpath?" came a young voice.
"They won't." A cat mewed firmly. Not again, the cat had thought.

One by one, the Clans had quickly leaped over the Thunderpath safely.

As they reached the other side, a smoky gray queen flicked her tail. "Leaders? Why have we come this way?"
A gray smoky, almost completely black tom turned to the queen and sighed. "We've been driven from any large spot we've tried to settle, Smokyfoot. Perhaps this will be our new peaceful home," he mewed.

"Peace! HERE?! With a Thunderpath right under our noses?" Smokyfoot hissed in disbelief and shock. She glanced towards her swollen belly. "My kit should never be born in a place like this."

"But we weren't safe back in the lake territory," meowed another voice. A gray tabby ShadowClan she-cat padded forward. She held Crowstar's gaze. "We couldn't even defend ourselves from rouges," Cloverstar spat. "Not even when we had an entire territory!"

Anxious yowls echoed through the Clans until an apprentice yowled, "Gore and his rouges will always hunt us until we're extinct!"

Frostshine, the RiverClan medicine cat looked at the other leaders. "Let's not forget our hunger! We don't even know what we will eat! I can't scent any prey here!"

"Silence!" A dark ginger tabby she-cat strutted forward, there was a determination in her emerald eyes and she gazed at the Clans. "Cats of all Clans, we all know we're scared, lost, and hungry, but we're safer here than the wasteland in our old territory. Gore isn't foolish enough to travel a great journey just to follow Clans he already chased out."
Murmurs of agreement flooded through the Clans.

Squirrelstar turned to Plumstone. "Plumstone, take Dewnose, Flipclaw, and Thriftear and see if you can find anything to eat. Try even crow-food."

"CROW-FOOD?" Screeched Smokyfoot, as the patrol padded away. "You want to feed my kits crow-food?!"
"Smokyfoot!" snapped a WindClan lithe, dark tabby elder tom with amber eyes. "You could instead starve to death instead of eating!"
Smokyfoot let out a snort and muttered, "Grumpy old Leaftail.."

The shapes of the patrol returned emerged from the shadows.
"You were right, Squirrelstar," called Dewnose. "There is prey here. But even better, we found perfect territory!"
"Show us." Cloverstar ordered.

The patrol had led the Clans to a great, and giant moor that stretched wide and high.

Leaftail purred and glanced at the patrol. "This is perfect. Thank you," he gave a dip of the head.
Whitewing muttered, "Of course a WindClan cat would love moor territory."

Birchfall, a ThunderClan elder, tilted his head. "So what now? Are we all gonna call ourselves WindClan now?"
"No."

Everyone glanced at Crowstar.
"What...?"

Crowstar's face darkened. "We've lost everything! First, our forest territory, next the lake, now we all have to live together! How is there loyalty in that?"

"The Clans are gone."