Bluestar's Prophecy

Bluestar sat down. “I saw a kittypet today,” she began.

“On our territory?” Spottedleaf asked absently.

“On a fence.” Would the medicine cat think she’d gone mad? “There was something about him that made me wonder if he would make a good warrior.”

Spottedleaf looked up, her eyes shining with surprise. “A kittypet?”

“His pelt was the color of flame.”

Spottedleaf blinked. “I understand.” She spoke gravely. “You think he might be the fire.”

Bluestar nodded.

“How will you know if you’re right?”

“I’ll ask Graypaw to stalk him for a while. See how he handles himself. Then I’ll decide whether he could really be a Clan cat.” Her paws began to prick with an excitement that she hadn’t felt for moons. “If he shows promise, I’ll invite him to join the Clan.”

Spottedleaf put down the herb she was holding and stepped forward until she was so close to Bluestar, her breath warmed the Clan leader’s ear. “He will pass every test you set for him. You will choose him, and you will never regret it. But don’t think this will be easy. You are about to lead the Clan along the hardest path it has ever known.”

She took a pace back, and the intensity in her gaze softened. “May StarClan light your path, always,” she whispered.

Bluestar felt her sister’s scent wreathe around her, mixed with the fragrance of herbs. “Oh, they do,” she whispered.

She pictured the bold ginger kittypet sitting at the border between his world and hers, and a purr rumbled deep in her throat.

You were right, Goosefeather. A fire will blaze through this forest after all.