The tunnels of Verdant Plains Dynasty pulsed with quiet life. Soft shafts of sunlight spilled through narrow cracks in the ceiling far above, painting faint golden streaks across the cavern walls. Moss and wildflowers clung to the stone, their roots drinking from the thin streams that ran through the camp floor. The air was warm, heavy with the mingled scents of earth, prey, and cats.
But beneath it all, tension lingered. Every whisper, every shifting pawstep seemed edged with unease. The war with Roaring Storm Dynasty had dragged on longer than anyone wished to admit, and though Verdant Plains had yet to lose ground, hope was beginning to fray like the ends of a torn leaf.
At the edge of the main cavern, a pale brown figure ducked out from one of the many twisting tunnels that led to the surface. Fawn-yrn trotted lightly into camp, her stubby tail flicking in triumph as she dropped a small mouse onto the stone slab beneath the Gathering Stone. Her fur was dusted with soil from the maze aboveground, and her flanks rose and fell with the quick breath of one returning from the hunt.
Behind her padded her brother, Stag-yrn, his own pelt darker, his amber eyes gleaming in the dim light. He carried a plump squirrel in his jaws, holding it as though it were a prize fit for the Empress herself.
He set it beside Fawn-yrn’s mouse and smirked. “Guess Venatio favored me today,” he said, flicking an ear toward her smaller catch. “You sure that isn’t a newborn mouse, Fawn-yrn? I think it still squeaked when you dropped it.”
Fawn-yrn’s ears flattened. “Oh, shut up, Stag,-yrn” she muttered, giving him a sharp swat across the shoulder.
He laughed, twisting out of her reach. “Hey! Don’t get sore just because I’m better at hunting.”
“I said shut up!” She lunged, but Stag-yrn was faster. With a burst of energy, he pounced, knocking her off balance and sending both of them tumbling into a patch of moss. Fawn-yrn squealed furiously, batting furiously at his muzzle as he pinned her down.
“By Mystica’s whiskers,” came a weary sigh from their mother, Oasis Breeze, rose from where she’d been lying near the Maternity Den, her cream and brown fur catching the sunlight that filtered through a crack above. She exchanged a knowing glance with her friend, one of the Maidens, before padding over, tail lashing.
“Do you two have moss for brains?” she scolded, voice stern but not without warmth. “There are soldiers trying to rest before tonight’s patrol, and you sound like a pair of fighting hawks.”
Stag-yrn instantly released his sister and straightened up, trying to look innocent. Fawn-yrn, still panting, flicked her ear and muttered, “He started it.”
Oasis Breeze sighed again, though her whiskers twitched with faint amusement. “I don’t care who started it. You’ll both finish it now. Go help Fox Chaser sort herbs if you’ve got energy to spare, or help carry prey to the Veterans den.”
“Aw, come on...” Stag-yrn began, but one sharp look from their mother silenced him. Fawn-yrn smirked as she rose to her paws, brushing moss from her coat. “Guess I’ll tell Fox Chaser you volunteered,” she teased under her breath.
“Not funny,” Stag-yrn grumbled, but even he couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at his muzzle. Above them, faintly through the cracks of the cavern ceiling, thunder rumbled, distant, but heavy. A storm was building over the Valley.
A sound rolled through the tunnels, low at first, then growing, twisting into a chorus of pained cries that pierced the air like claws through flesh. Mournful howls, distant but unmistakable, echoed from the entrance passages, their tones steeped in grief and fear.
Fawn-yrn froze. Around her, the quiet hum of camp life shattered. Soldiers jerked their heads toward the sound, eyes widening. Mothers snatched up their kittens, rushing them into the safety of the Maternity Den, their voices trembling with urgency. The scent of panic thickened like blood in the air.
“Something’s wrong,” Stag-yrn whispered, fur bristling. Before Fawn-yrn could reply, pawsteps thundered down the tunnel, the sharp clatter of claws against stone. Then, through the shadows, emerged General Silent Stalker, his massive frame heaving, his striped fur matted with blood. Behind him stumbled a patrol of soldiers, battered and broken, their pelts streaked with crimson. The cavern erupted into chaos.
“Make way!” Silent Stalker’s voice boomed, though ragged. “Ambush by Roaring Storm cats at the Jagged Rocks!”
Gasps rippled through the crowd as the wounded were guided toward the healers’ alcove. The scent of blood was overpowering now, metallic and sharp against the damp stone. Cats hurried to bring moss, cobwebs, and herbs; others stood frozen, eyes wide with disbelief.
Then A cry tore through the air “Buck-yrn!” Oasis Breeze’s voice broke like glass. She pushed past the gathering cats, eyes wild with horror. There, at the heart of the returning patrol, Buck-yrn lay motionless, his brown fur darkened with blood, his flank rising only in shallow gasps.
“Move aside!” she pleaded, shoving toward him. “That’s my son! my son!”
Fox Chaser, already pressing cotton to a deep wound along Buck-yrn’s side, didn’t look up. Her paws worked with desperate precision, but the blood kept seeping, pooling beneath her trembling claws.
“Falcon Cry, more cotton! He’s losing too much!” she barked, voice shaking. Fawn-yrn and Stag-yrn stumbled to their mother’s side, eyes wide, breath shuddering.
“Buck-yrn! Buck-yrn, please!” Fawn-yrn’s voice cracked as she pressed close, her small frame trembling. “He was just supposed to hunt today, he wasn’t supposed to...”
Fox Chaser’s face was set in grim concentration. “Stay back, Fawn-yrn. He needs space.” But Fawn-yrn couldn’t move. Her gaze fixed on her brother’s still face, the way his paws twitched faintly, how his breaths came in wet, ragged hitches. She could hear Seer Bear Heart’s deep voice echoing from behind her, calling for herbs, but the words barely reached her.
All she could hear was the pounding of her heart. The blood wouldn’t stop.
Fox Chaser pressed harder, claws trembling, eyes darting to Bear Heart for guidance. “It won’t clot!” she gasped. “It’s like the wound won’t close!” A murmur of fear rippled through the watching crowd. Some whispered that Roaring Storm must have used poison. Others said it was something worse, something old, like divine intervention.
But all Fawn-yrn could see was the life draining from her brother’s body. “Please,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “Don’t leave us, Buck-yrn. Not you.” Oasis Breeze’s sobs filled the cavern, raw and breaking. Stag-yrn stood frozen beside her, his claws digging into the stone, torn between fury and disbelief.
Buck-yrn’s body twitched once, then went still. His chest, which had risen and fallen in shallow rhythm, stopped altogether. The sound of dripping blood echoed faintly against the stone before all else fell silent.
Fox Chaser froze, paws trembling. Her blue eyes flicked to Bear Heart, who met her gaze grimly. Slowly, she drew back, voice heavy as stone “...He’s gone.”
Oasis Breeze’s cry shattered the air. It was not a sound of disbelief, nor of anger, but of something deeper, something only a mother could know: the hollow ache of a life torn from her own. She fell upon her son’s still body, pulling him close, her face pressed against his fur as if warmth might somehow return to it.
“Buck-yrn! No, no, my darling boy, wake up, please...” Her voice cracked, splintering into sobs. Fawn-yrn crumpled beside her, tears spilling freely as she buried her face in her brother’s pelt. Stag-yrn stood behind them, shaking, eyes wide and glassy, unable to move. He had always been beside Buck-yrn since their first days of training, now the space between them felt endless.
Around them, silence spread through the camp. Even the kittens hidden in the Maternity Den seemed to know better than to cry. The war’s cruelty had never felt so close, nor so real.
At the far side of the cavern, Empress Clever Sage watched the scene unfold from the raised stone ledge that served as her perch. Her silver pelt gleamed faintly in the dim light, though her eyes were hard and cold with restrained fury. General Silent Stalker stood beside her, his massive frame hunched slightly, blood still drying on his striped coat.
“Where did they strike?” Clever Sage’s voice was quiet, but it carried the authority of a cat not to be disobeyed. “The Jagged Rocks,” Silent Stalker growled, tail lashing. “Far past their border. They waited in the hollows until the patrol was trapped. It was an ambush.”
Clever Sage narrowed her eyes. “That far into our territory?” She hissed, and Silent Stalker nodded grimly. “Aye. Emperor Admirable Glow’s scent was all over the ridge. He’s growing bolder by the day.” His voice dropped, teeth baring in restrained anger. “The tom’s as sick in the head as Night’s Bane ever was. He’s got full control of his soldiers now, and he’s willing to breach every line we’ve drawn just to put us in what he calls ‘our place.’”
Clever Sage’s claws flexed against the stone. For a long moment, she said nothing, her gaze fixed on the mourning family below. The echoes of Oasis Breeze’s cries filled the cavern, each one striking like a blow. Fawn-yrn pressed her forehead to her brother’s still form, whispering broken words of farewell.