Cursed: Prologue

In the land where the deceased walk, sat a lone white-and-silver she-cat; her willowy tail wrapped neatly against her paws. Her shoulders were hunched and her golden eyes gleamed with sorrow as she stared down at the surface of a small pond. After her arrival to StarClan, the she-cat had felt at home until she learned what was happening below. Looking up from the pond, she glanced around until her eyes landed on a silver tabby. His stride was full of confidence and he held his head high as he joined her.

“I’m glad you showed,” he greeted, his amber eyes narrowing as he too looked down at the pond’s surface. “It’s a pity really…”

“I’m amazed you even showed your face!” an agitated ginger-and-silver tom spat and he glared harshly at the she-cat. “She was your responsibility and now look at the mess we’re in!”

“I couldn’t do anything once he chose her...” the she-cat whispered and her eyes glazed over momentarily as she yet again risked a glance down at the pond.

“What does the Seeing Pool show?” this time an elderly cat came, her once neat yellow fur was tattered and knotted but despite her age, her green eyes shined with a sharp intelligence.

“She’s with a Fallen,” the she-cat murmured. “The one named Wondering Bird is with her.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Softheart,” the old she-cat limped over to her and placed her tail reassuringly on the depressed white cat’s shoulder. “Even I couldn’t foresee this.”

“We should have let her die sooner!” the same ginger cat snarled and he lashed his tail angrily. “Then Softheart wouldn’t be dead and we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

A low growl eminatted from Softheart’s chest and she whirled around to stand face to face with the loud-mouthed cat. Baring her teeth she hissed in a low, menacing voice. “Take. That. Back.”

“Calm down Softheart,” the tabby pushed his way in between the two while giving them both a sharp, silencing glower. “And Silver, what’s done is done we shouldn’t dwell on the past but instead look to the future.”

“Whatever,” Silver shrugged but under his breath, purposely loud enough for the others to hear, he grumbled. “But if Juniperpaw died a kit than the Shadow Master wouldn’t have chosen her.”

“Juniperpaw is doing the best for her Clan, that’s all she’s ever been doing,” Softheart’s eyes narrowed once again and her fluffy tail lashed in agitation.

“Well her best sucks,” he scoffed while crouching as if to issue a challenge to the angered she-cat. “We should just give Sweetstar an excuse to exile her; once she’s gone all we have to do is find her a replacement… one that isn’t a Fallen.”

“Enough you two!” the elder snapped before Softheart could lunge forward. “I swear you’re like a bunch of dogs fighting over a piece of crow-food. We shall send an omen to a cat worthy of becoming SilverClan’s next medicine cat and, like we always do, we shall let the Living work it out.”

“Technically, Juniperpaw is no longer living,” Silver snarked which earned him a fierce cuff to his ears by the silver tabby.

“We cannot command the living!” the elder declared with such force that the arrogant tom flinched before quickly recovering under the glances of the others. “We can only guide them down the right paths.”

“Or the wrong ones,” Silver growled under his breath before turning and stalking off. Over his shoulder he called out to the elderly cat. “You know best, Dusksun,” his tone was mocking and before she could scold him yet again; Silver was gone.