Chapter 1
The pitch-black night sky stretched endlessly over the hushed woods, dotted with countless stars. The full moon shed its light upon the darkened forest, dappling the forest floor with moonlight.
A lithe figure slithered out from the shadows of a bramble bush and slipped behind a boulder. Two bright green orbs glowed from the shelter of the large rock. A cat sat there, trying its best to stay still. Gray-furred ears pricked up as the rustle of a bush indicated the presence of prey.
Slinking forward, a gray tabby she-cat focused on the holly bush in front of her. Her excellent night vision let her see the mouse hiding in the bottom of the bush.
Stay where you are, thought the cat desperately as she continued forward. At last, her muscles bunched as she prepared to spring. With a single pounce, the she-cat tossed the mouse against a tree to stun it before snapping its neck with a nearly silent crunch.
The she-cat smiled and lied down to enjoy her meal. She sunk her teeth deep into the mouse's flesh, taking a large bite. With the Season of No Leaves approaching, prey would become harder to find, so every piece of prey was a blessing.
"Brook, you're out late," a phantom voice hissed. A ginger tom with blue eyes emerged from the bushes off to the side of the she-cat. He narrowed his eyes and stuck his tail straight out behind him.
Brook sat up suddenly and began licking her white chest fur in embarrassment. "I was hungry, Haze. Besides, I've always been more of a night hunter."
Haze snorted. "The Season of No Leaves is coming sooner than you think," he growled. "No cat can afford to waste prey now."
"I know," Brook muttered, not meeting Haze's icy stare. "But I hadn't eaten an evening meal yet."
"Too bad," snapped Haze. He lashed his tail. "I have a mate and two kittens to feed, and I can't just let you eat all the prey you want in the middle of the night."
Brook at last raised her head to look at the ginger tom in front of her. "It's not totally your prey," she told him calmly. "The prey belongs to no single cat, but to all the cats in the forest."
This comment took Haze by surprise. He had never known that Brook had the nerve to stand up to him like that. "This is my part of the forest," he replied coldly. "So therefore, it is my prey."
"Haven't you realized that the group of rouges that litter the forest have no organization?" asked Brook. "There are no boundaries laid down; every cat just sort of takes what they please."
"Not when cold weather is coming and I have a family to care for," snarled Haze. Long, curved claws slid out of his paws, glinting in the moonlight. "Get away from here, Brook," he warned her, "and go back to your sleeping place."
Brook was about to shoot back a sharp reply, but then she snatched up the mouse she was eating and departed from the clearing. Though Brook was courageous, she wasn't foolish. She didn't want to waste her energy on a battle over nothing.
The trek back to her camp was long and tiring. The clearing where Brook lived had a rumbling river flowing through it, and a hollowed out tree had fallen over across the rushing water. Its roots stuck up to the sky, and Brook slept in the hollow trunk.
Lying down to eat the rest of the mouse, Brook thought about the season to come. During the Season of No Leaves, the cold would drive most prey away, and what was left would certainly be fought over. What a lawless, bloody thing war is, Brook mused silently. If only we didn't have wars over prey every Season of No Leaves. She took another quick bite of her mouse and chewed thoughtfully.
When Brook finished with her meal, she buried the remains and padded over to the fallen tree. She entered through a hole in the top of the hollowed trunk and settled down in a nest of moss. The she-cat's eyes drooped with drowsiness, and she slipped into a deep sleep.
***
The morning sunlight woke Brook from her slumber. The gray tabby stretched out her long limbs and yawned. She leaped out of the empty tree and climbed up on the tangle roots, gazing out among her domain. Above Brook's head, a flock of geese were flying south and a family of cardinals chattered in a nearly bare tree on the edge of the clearing.
"Good morning," murmured Brook to no one in particular. The Season of Fallen Leaves sunlight beat down on her back, accompanied by a slight breeze. Brook raised her head to the sky, taking in the warmth while she could.
Leaping down from the dead roots, Brook hurried across the clearing. She needed to go hunting again to satisfy her hunger. She padded off into the woods, her ears pricked in search of prey.
At last, she spotted a squirrel sitting near the foot of a tree. The ground in front of her was littered with debris- Brook would never make it across without making a noise. She picked up a rock and chucked it on the other side of the squirrel, making her prey scatter up the tree towards her. Brook leaped up at just the right moment and caught the squirrel between outstretched paws.
With a yowl of triumph, Brook tumbled to the ground, the squirrel still hooked on her claws. The she-cat sat down to eat, taking in the taste of warm prey. The squirrel was surprisingly plump, considering that it was probably making fat reserves for the Season of No Leaves.
Once the squirrel was finished off, Brook decided to make reserves of her own- she would stock up some prey for lunch. The she-cat got up and opened her mouth slightly to let the breeze carry prey-scent to the scent glands on the roof of her mouth. She caught the smell of a wood mouse rummaging through a small pile of seeds. Brook dropped to the ground in the hunting crouch her mother had taught her so long ago. She slunk forward with a steady speed towards the location of the mouse.
Brook bounded forward, landing right on top of the mouse. Suddenly, she heard a faint noise from the bushes behind her- a gasp of awe? Brook dropped her fresh-kill and spun around to face the intruders. "Who's there?" she growled.
Two small kittens trundled out from within the bush. One of them nudged the other one. "I told you we'd get caught," he hissed.
Ignoring his brother's jibe, the other kitten approached Brook. "That was a great catch!" he purred. "Can you teach me how to do that?"
There was a moment of silence as Brook realized who these kittens were. They were the two sons of Haze and Ivy! "Your mother or father will teach you when you grow old enough," she mewed at last.
"But I want to learn now!" argued the ginger tabby. His amber eyes flashed with determination. "I bet we can be as good as you!"The other kitten was a white kitten with brown tabby ears and brown tabby back. His deep blue eyes mimicked his father's, and Brook was reminded of her meeting with Haze last night. "You're Brook, aren't you?" the kitten asked her.
"Yes I am," meowed Brook. "I've known your father and mother for quite a long time now."
The brown-splotched kitten nodded. "Father's spoken of you before," he observed. "And he didn't speak very fond words, either."
Brook bit her tongue. Of course Haze would speak ill words about her to his kittens!
Oh well, Brook thought,
I would probably say the same things about him to my kittens, if I had any. She smiled. "We haven't had many good experiences together," she admitted.
"I don't think you're so bad," purred the ginger kitten. He padded a few steps closer to Brook. "I'm Rowan, and this is Wolf," he explained, flicking his sleek tail towards his brother.
"It's nice to meet both of you," Brook meowed, "but you'd best run along now. Your mother and father will be worried about you."
Both kittens nodded and turned away from Brook. "Goodbye!" shouted Rowan as he and Wolf raced through the undergrowth.
Cute kittens. Brook smiled as she watched the spot where the kittens had disappeared until she could no longer hear them stomping around the forest floor. Then she picked up the wood mouse she had caught and headed back towards her camp.
Brook thanked the World-Cat that Haze hadn't been there to see her talking to his kits. But then again, Rowan and Wolf would probably tell their father that they had run into her… oh, if only she had told them to keep quiet!
"They're kits, though," Brook told herself, "and they would have told anyway." She squeezed through a thick patch of pine trees and entered her camp. There was no time right now to worry about what Haze's kits were doing.
Suddenly Brook heard a gruff voice coming from behind the hollow log where she slept. "This looks like a good place to stay," it rasped. "Let's take it."
"But Bear," argued a slightly shaky voice, "there's another cat living here. A she-cat, above all. What will the Star-Walker to do us if he finds out?"
"The Star-Walker has his own problems. He couldn't do anything to us anyway. He's gotten quite old."
Brook gasped. No one dared insult the Star-Walker! She took a deep breath, inhaling the overwhelming scent of mouse. She buried her catch in a patch of hedges and padded around the fallen tree. "Excuse me," she mewed, "but this is my camp."
The young she-cat found herself facing five cats- all of them were toms. The largest one, a burly brown tabby, turned to her and spoke. "Too bad. This is our place now."
"Yeah!" agreed a dark gray tom. His long fur made him look twice as big as he probably was. Brook gulped. If it came to a fight, she was no match for five tomcats.
Another brown tabby stepped up beside the first tom. "Bear," he warned, "we have no right to come in here and take this she-cat's camp." His scrawny limbs shook with anxiety. "It's her camp, after all." He turned his amber gaze towards Brook.
"Be quiet, Twiggy," snapped Bear. His mouth curved into a sinister smile. "I'm sure this particular she-cat would love to have us stay here." The other two toms, one ginger and the other black, advanced menacingly.
"Absolutely not," retorted Brook. "Why are you here?"
The cat called Twiggy began shaking even more. His eyes flew open wide with fear and his voice wavered. "They stole our camp! They took our prey! They have… they have come."
