Lightning lashed through the blackness like a shining whip, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder like the growl of a waking lion in the sky. Dark blues and purples and blacks billowed over each other up above in a tumultuous battle, cold rain spilling from the restless clouds. The sky was furious with the land, and seemed determined that it be punished.

Down below, the earth received the relentless beating. A forest bore the wrath of the storm, the trees stripped of their paper limbs and leaves tossed away like confetti by the wind that howled like a dying animal. Another great white flash illuminated a figure standing stiff among the shadows of the forest, nearly invisible in the shade of the trees.

Her neck strained as she looked up at the sky with narrowed eyes that reflected the dark, tumbling fury of the storm. She was cold and tired, with fur plastered to her sides and chest heaving.

    The cat spun around and bolted into the woods.

She bounded as fast as the conditions would allow her, paws splashing on the wet ground and mud squished between her toes. She pushed herself harder than ever, refusing to listen to the screams of her muscles. The she-cat refused to allow herself to dwell on the pain the hurt, and she continued to run numbly.

    She weaved around the black trunks of the trees that loomed over her, struggling to stop herself from slipping on the slick forest floor. The forest of great dark evergreens, swayed above her with eerie groans. The trees, once the strongest in the territories, could barely hold their own. The she-cat pushed herself harder, fear blooming in her chest like a poisonous flower. Her lungs burned, and it wasn't long before she was gasping for breath.

Then she heard it. Distant and low, but still audible over the constant sound of the rain.

A cry of pain.

Anger blasted through her like the lightning that ripped the sky in half above.

A surge of power filled the she-cat, making her muscles harden and claws dig into the ground. She ran so fast, all that could be seen of her was a flash of color and then nothing.

Her mind was so clouded with rage she barely registered her surroundings. But she knew this land, the forest she had navigated a thousand different times in her life. The she-cat stumbled to a stop, nearly falling off the steep ridge beneath her claws. A flash of lightning lit the scenery before her, and her blood turned cold.

The small, round lakebed that had been dry for seasons had turned into a pond, more brown water washing into the hollow by the second. The dip in the ground was almost completely submerged. Monstrous black waves filled the ditch, lapping at the steep sides like a crazed animal trying to get out. A dead willow tree wavered in the wind above.

The she-cat felt frozen in place as she stared at her home, flooded and destroyed. All she could hear was the sound of the rain pattering the ground around her, merged with the wind and a distant growl of thunder. Her shock was as sharp as fangs, but slowly, it hardened into a blunt fist of anger, pounding away in her heart.

Eyes narrowed. Face hardened. Claws unsheathed.

She would make them pay. Pay for all they've done.

It didn't take long for the she-cat to find them. The metallic scent of blood was thick in the air, causing her gleaming wet fur to bristle. The she-cat wandered quickly around the forest, pausing to listen for the pained wails of her Clanmates. Another cry, this one sharp with panic, came, but it was abruptly silenced. The she-cat charged through the forest frantically, a new fear in her heart.

Once she stumbled upon the battleground, she halted and scanned the clearing meticulously.

Slick black bodies writhed around in the dirt, screeching and hissing. The rancid scent of ValleyClan was thick in the air. Another bolt of lightning lashed overhead, lighting the grounds in an unearthly white glow. The bloody image embedded itself in her mind.

She gave her head a shake, rain flying from her whiskers, and peered back at the scene.

There he was. Ratstar.

He had placed himself at the point of a rock jutting out of the ground, overlooking the battlefield. His gray fur was soaked but smooth and flat, eyes still and calm. He watched the fighting with a manic light in his gaze, as if the blood and killing amused him.

It made her furious. The she-cat streaked toward the rock under the cover of the fighting warriors. She was almost flattened by a pair of brawling toms that rolled by. The she-cat pushed on, slinking through the wet grass.

Then she was at the rock, the stone slick yet somehow reassuring under her sore paw pads. She sank down to her belly, intending to attack with the element of surprise.

Ratstar didn't turn to face her. "I knew you'd show up at some point, Lightningstar. Although, you are quite late." His voice was deep and dark with mockery.

A snarl slipped from the she-cat's lips. "At least I'm not watching my Clanmates die from a rock like a coward," she spat. Satisfaction spread through her as the fur along his spine bristled.

Ratstar stiffened and a growl rumbled in his throat. The tom turned and glared at her with his piercing amber eyes. "Brave, for a little she-cat," he jeered, fangs flashing. His claws slid out. "You want to see what this coward can do?"

"I'd love to send you running back to your scum territory with your tail between your legs," Lightningstar hissed through her teeth. The she-cat sank into a battle crouch at the base of the stone, tail lashing. She could already smell his blood on her claws, taste it on her tongue.

Ratstar's eyes gleamed as he twisted around, claws scraping the rock. "Well then, kittypet, let's dance."

The two Clan leaders bunched their muscles as they faced each other, tails lashing like whips. At the same moment they leapt, a streak of hot silver split the sky.

•••

"What happened next?"

"Redkit, don't interrupt!"

"Look, you've ruined the story again. I really like this one."

"Stop whining like a kittypet, Brindlekit."

"You're calling me a kittypet? You won't even play in the pond because you don't like to get your paws wet."

"Now, now," an old dark tabby scolded, pulling the quarreling kits closer with his long, sweeping tail under a dim light. Their indignant squeals died down at his voice, and the five pairs of eyes turned to gaze upwards at the old tabby. His voice was calm, but even the kits could noticed the way he tensed up at the mention of "kittypet." The long-furred tomcat casted a quick glance into the back of the dimly lit den. It was a wide burrow in the depths of the earth, the ground covered with a warm, soft layer of mossy bedding. It was dark outside, but strung to the ceiling was a tangle of spiderwebs, several blinking fireflies trapped in them. Their constant flashes emitted a dim, warm glow on the cats gathered below. A thick haze seemed to hang in the air, only enhancing the tense atmosphere.

A small, dark gray tom-kit leaned around the tabby elder and stared to the dark side of the den with wide amber eyes, but he couldn't make anything out of the blackness before the large wall of fur shifted back in front of him. "No fighting in here," the elder said as the kit looked up to his white-flecked face. The tom-kit felt a jolt of adrenaline as the large cat's wise blue eyes flicked to meet his own. "You'll wake up the whole Clan."

"It is about time you go to your nests, isn't it?" a blue and cream tortoiseshell remarked shortly after a yawn. The kits gazed in awe at the rows of thorn-sharp teeth lining her mouth. She laid beside her tabby denmate, curled into a ball of pretty pale fur.

"Smokewing and Doveleap will be wondering where you kits are," the striped elder agreed, tilting his fluffy head. Shadekit imagined the thick fur sticking out around his neck like a lion's magnificent mane.

"No!" a ginger tom-kit cried out, his blue eyes blazing. "Finish the story, please, Furzefeather." His body sunk to the ground in a crouch, tail twitching as he stared at the elder with his crystalline gaze.

More desperate high-pitched pleas from the five kits made the brown tabby chuckle. "Alright, alright. But promise me you'll go to your nests as soon as it's over!"

"We promise!" the kits chorused happily. They all huddled at Furzefeather's paws and gazed up at him intently, their eyes reflecting the orange glow of firefly light.

"You spoil those kits too much for their own good," the tortoiseshell muttered, but her pale blue eyes remained open, as if she too was eager for her denmate to finish the story.

"Where was I?" Furzefeather said, pinching his eyes shut in the gloom of the elders' den.

"The part when Lightningstar attacked Ratstar!" Redkit offered. The ginger tom held his breath in anticipation.

"Ah, so that's the story you're telling." This time it was a deeper, more tranquil voice from the back of the burrow. There seemed to be slight movement, and then a huge pale brown tomcat slipped out of the darkness. The way he prowled into the light like a predator made chills crawl up Shadekit's spine. The tom's piercing golden eyes flitted over the gathered kittens, and the gray kit made a sharp intake of breath as they leveled on him. "I fought in that battle myself. You don't mind if I tell this part, do you, Furzefeather?" the third elder rumbled.

A little black tom-kit sitting next to Shadekit spoke up. "Please do! You always tell the battles the best, Brambleheart." His little companions agreed with quiet mews. Shadekit casted a wide-eyed glance over to Furzefeather, but the other elder didn't seem to mind. The fluffy tabby only looked pleased that the kits were enjoying themselves, his bent whiskers twitching and eyes shining in delight.

Brambleheart settled down next to Furzefeather, stretching his massive body out in the soft layer of bedding. Shadekit gazed in awe at the huge, powerful paws that were larger than his own head. The tabby breathed out a long sigh. "Lightningstar was a legend," Brambleheart began in a deep, grave voice. "A born fighter, with a heart afraid of nothing. They say her claws were so sharp, they sliced through stone—"

"Oh, please," the tortoiseshell elder grumbled, rolling her bright blue eyes. "Everyone knows that's just a legend," she said lightheartedly, rolling on to her back.

"Honestly, Berryclaw, you're as bad as the kits," Furzefeather meowed, a hint of humor lightening his voice. He teasingly flicked the tortoiseshell's ear with his tail, earning a fierce glare from the she-cat that he completely ignored. The fluffy brown tom placed his head on paws and gazed at his other denmate, mirth sparkling in his blue eyes. "Please continue."

Brambleheart looked offended. He narrowed his piercing golden eyes at Berryclaw, but the she-cat paid him no mind. The big tomcat curled his lip over his fangs and continued grudgingly. "Lightningstar carried VolcanoClan high and proud, rarely backing away from a threat. When ValleyClan's clever leader, Ratstar, tricked her into venturing away from her camp while his warriors ambushed, Lightningstar's shining slate of pride had been dented. I think that may have been what fueled her to do the things she did that stormy night." Brambleheart paused, watching the kits who stared up at him with quiet enthrallment. "Shall I continue?"

"Yes!" Shadekit squeaked. "You can't stop now." He imagined the storm raging as the Clans fought, the blinding lightning and booms of thunder that seemed to shake his very soul.

"Yeah, I wanna hear how Lightningstar shredded those ValleyClan cats!" Brindlekit mewed with a small growl, swiping a paw through the air as if imagining herself as the great Clan leader of the past.

Shadekit thought he saw a brief flash of emotion in those piercing amber eyes, but Brambleheart blinked, masking any feeling. "I don't know . . ." he said indecisively, eyes rolled up to the fireflies stuck to the roof of the den. "It is getting late for you kits."

"Please! Please! Please!" the audience cried desperately, bouncing on Brambleheart's huge paws.

Furzefeather watched the tom with a smile, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. Brambleheart was known for his solid indifference and lack of empathy among the Clan, but the pure innocence and gentle play of the kits always seemed to dig up a little of that buried emotion. Brambleheart's golden eyes were shining, and his usual stony-set face bore small tugs at the corners of his jaws, something close to a smile.

Suddenly, a snarl echoed from the back of the den, and everyone froze in their tracks. The pleading high-pitched cries quickly faded. Not a breath stirring the air, every head slowly turned to the source, two glaring hazel eyes shone in the darkness. "Finish the damn story and get those kits out of my den," the voice spat, words sharp with hate.

Furzefeather was suddenly on his paws, and he quickly stepped over to the kits, as if shielding them. He began nosing the little bundles of downy fluff toward the exit. "It'd be best if you left now, before she gets worse," he whispered to the kittens. Something in his voice, possibly fear, sent dread crawling up Shadekit's spine.

"But Furzefeather—" Nightkit whined, evidently not catching on to the elders' fright.

"You know how she gets," Berryclaw reminded the kits, looking apologetic. "You can always come back another day." Even Berryclaw, a formidable, fearless cat for her age, spoke with a note of anxiety in her meow. What are they afraid of?

Shadekit, fear blossoming inside him, trotted closely behind the black tail of his brother, Nightkit, as they emerged into the night. The three older kits were already streaking across the darkness of camp toward the nursery, their long legs propelling them forward.

Shadekit turned back to the long-furred elder. "Bye, Furzefeather," he mewled queitly.

The old tom blinked down at him with his pale blue eyes, and then touched his nose to Shadekit's. When Furzefeather pulled away, he was smiling. "Come back tomorrow, young one."

Shadekit turned back around and saw that Nightkit had already left him behind. The dark gray tom bounded forward and flanked his littermate.

"I'll race you," Nightkit suddenly said, muscles tensing. He looked at his brother with gleaming yellow eyes.

Shadekit felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. He sank into a crouch, tail lashing. "You're on."

"Last one to the nursery is a spoiled kittypet!" Nightkit howled, taking off into the darkness.

Shadekit bounded after his brother, heart thudding in his chest. He bolted through cold night air, the wind whistling in his ears. The gray kit couldn't resist glancing up at the sky. The dark blue was cradled by the tops of the trees surrounding camp, and it was showered with stardust. Shadekit tore his amber gaze away and darted after Nightkit, who had pulled ahead of him.

The race to the nursery was a short one, spanning across the width of the small, dry, dust-bowl of a lakebed. Waiting for the two little toms in the entrance to the burrow on the other side of camp, was an anxious she-cat, fur bristling and tail lashing.

"Where have you two been?" the gray queen hissed as the kits approached her. Nightkit and Shadekit skidded to abrupt halt at her tense white paws.

The two toms exchanged a worried glance, amber eyes meeting yellow. Nightkit spoke first, voice swathed with innocence. "We were just in the elders' den, Smokewing. Furzefeather and Brambleheart were telling us a story."

The gray she-cat loomed over them dangerously. She stared down at her kits like a hawk with the same piercing amber eyes that Shadekit had. "You know you're not supposed to be out this late. The moon has already risen, for MoonClan's sake!"

Shadekit's eyes strayed back up to the sky where, sure enough, a sliver of glowing white peered above the black treetops, casting a faint silvery light into the dry lakebed. It glowed on the edges of his dark ears.

The crescent moon had captivated him, but Nightkit's piercing voice made Shadekit snap out of his enthrallment. "Doveleap's kits were in there too! I don't hear her yelling at them."

Smokewing stepped around her kits and herded them into the nursery. "That's no excuse! Spiderkit, Brindlekit, and Redkit are all a moon older than you. Just because you're denmates doesn't mean you get to go trotting in their pawsteps wherever they go."

"She should be happy we stayed in camp," Nightkit muttered quietly to his brother, trudging down into the damp tunnel.

Shadekit paused as he felt a flutter of excitement. He bounded to catch up with his littermate. "You mean we're going to get out of the lakebed one day?" the gray tom breathed.

Nightkit casted him a sideways glance, a smirk on his lips. "You think I'm just gonna sit around this dump for two more moons?"

The gray tom's eyes widened. "Smokewing will claw our ears off if she finds out!"

The black kit faced his littermate, a challenge in his yellow gaze. "If you're too scared, then you don't have to go," Nightkit sneered.

Shadekit's face contorted. "I'm not!" he protested in a loud whisper.

Shadekit followed his brother to their pile of bedding, nestled snugly between two other queens. One was a smaller she-cat with pale blue and cream fur, the colors you would see on a wintery day. Her name was Whitedapple, and her belly was still swollen with kits. She stared at her denmates with wide eyes, always appearing intimidated for whatever reason. The other queen was Doveleap, the mother of the three older kits. She was a large, beautiful she-cat, with long golden and white fur.

Nightkit leapt into the nest, his littermate tumbling after him. "When do you think?" Shadekit mewled excitedly, his tiny gray tail lashing.

The black tom wrinkled his nose, seeming annoyed with his brother's pestering questions. "Tonight, if we have the chance," Nightkit said quietly, shining yellow eyes betraying his own excitement.

Shadekit opened his mouth to ask another question, but Nightkit silenced him with a tail over his muzzle. His brother's eyes were wide and they flashed with warning. The gray kitten's confusion disappeared as a shadow fell over the nest.

"Settle down, you two," Smokewing said softly, gathering her kits together before curling her own body into the nest. "Quiet now. The others are sleeping."

Once the brothers had cuddled themselves into their mother's feather-soft belly fur, Nightkit gave Shadekit a knowing look before closing his yellow eyes.

Smokewing reached up and—one by one—crushed each firefly with her white paw. Soon, they were all dead and the burrow was submerged in complete darkness. Shadekit closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but his pounding heart repelled the waves of exhaustion lapping at his mind and drowning it in confusing grogginess.

It turned out that they wouldn't make their great escape that night. Sometime around moonhigh, Shadekit guessed, a fierce thunderstorm rolled in above the forest, pounding the earth with its relentless roars and stabbing into the ground with flashes of light.

There was no way the two little tom-kits would sneak out that night. Booms of thunder reverberated through the den, making the ceiling crumble. Dust fell and landed on the cat's pinned ears. Frightened, Shadekit burrowed further into Smokewing's fur. At certain times he would feel his mother's sandpaper tongue rasp over his shaking body, but the rapid pounding of her heart let the kitten know that she was scared too.

Shadekit didn't think he would get any sleep that night. At one point during the storm, he remembered the story the elders had told him. He pictured Lightningstar, blood, sweat and rain in her fur, fighting with tooth and claw all while bearing the immense fury of nature itself. Something about the legendary leader drowned out the thunder and lightning around Shadekit, instilling a confidence deep within him.

For the first time that night, he wondered of the fate that lied in the rest of the story.