Two Worlds
A/N: Hello, and if you're reading this, that means you are checking out my most recent warrior cat fanfic. This one, as you might have noticed in the summary, deals with topics way beyond normal Warrior cats, so it's going to get really interesting. This chapter is THE shortest I've ever uploaded, but I'm trying to cut back on my many-worded chapters, since it's an awful lot. Now, this story takes place after "The Darkest Hour" and before "Firestar's Quest", so keep that in mind.

And with that, I wish you happy reading!

Firestar gazed up at the sky. It was a cool day, one in between the transition of New Leaf to Greenleaf. A breeze ruffled Firestar's blazing flame-colored pelt, and he slowly stood, shaking himself, and bounding down from the High Rock, where he had been watching his Clan contentedly.

His paws silently landed on the ground of the clearing where ThunderClan gathered when he called them. Firestar twitched his tail and his green eyes glanced around, but there was something wrong.

Firestar sighed and decided to go see where Sandstorm was, if she wanted to go on a hunt with him.

As ThunderClan's leader, Firestar expected things to be exciting all the time- new challenges, new dangers, and new adventures at every turn. But he had been mistake.

Three moons ago, the four Clans had united against the most deadly enemy they'd ever faced before: Scourge and his many decrepit followers of the group he'd mockingly called Blood Clan. A battle had been unleashed, and more blood had been spilled than Firestar had ever imaged possible.

Their losses tallied up to a waveringly bitter amount: they had lost Whitestorm, the very wise and respected deputy to ThunderClan, and that had been huge to them. Not to mention all the scratches, wounds, claw-marks, and serious injuries taken with the war.

But Firestar had managed to pin down Scourge, the murder of Tigerstar, the ruthless and cold-blooded leader of BloodClan, and the closest thing to evil the forest had ever known. Firestar had used Scourge's single weakness against him: Scourge had only one life while Firestar, a leader guided by StarClan, had eight. So Scourge was destroyed, and BloodClan chased off after seeing their supposedly flawless leader get killed.

After that, Firestar had been pretty busy mending the deep... well, scourges... put in his Clan after that war. But time is the best healer of all, and after three moons, the blood had washed away from the battle site, and the wounds had healed. The only thing that was really scarred was Firestar's mind, for he would often still shudder at night when the looming face of Scourge seemed to be in front of him.

But after the aftermath of BloodClan had lessened and cats were beginning to forget the sharp, harsh details, things slowed down. Nothing had happened since BloodClan.

Of course, there were the usual small things- new kits, apprentices, and warriors littered the vast amount of Clan cats now, and the seasons had changed. There were friends and hunts and patrols and the occasional small squabble at a Gatherings or at Clan border lines. But nothing truly interesting.

To be completely and utterly frank, Firestar was becoming a little... well, bored.

"Firestar!" came a sudden cry.

Firestar whipped around and his eyes narrowed when he saw the sunhigh patrol trotting towards him: it was Thornclaw, Brackenfur, and Mousefur.

He waited eagerly for them to tell their leader what had happened on their patrol. Dogs? Hostile Clan cats? A rather large and strange piece of prey?

"Yes?" he asked, able to keep his voice calm. "What happened?"

Brackenfur, who was leading the trio, strode up to Firestar and paused, exchanging a confused glance with Mousefur. "Er- nothing."

Firestar's face fell. "Nothing? Nothing at all? All normal?"

Thornclaw, who looked curiously at Firestar, nodded. "All normal. The borders are fine."

"No scent of WindClan?"

"Er- no," Brackenfur meowed, brow raised.

"No dogs?"

"No," Brackenfur continued, looking a little concerned.

"No bones? No scent of sickness?" Firestar went on, feeling stupid but unable to help a desperate note creep into his voice.

"Firestar, we saw nothing. It's all clear- isn't that good?" Thornclaw asked impatiently.

Firestar flicked and ear, taking a quick breath. "Of course it is. Good work," he said shortly, flicking his tail, and muttering to himself, "ShadowClan... they've been quiet for too long... might be brewing something..."

Thornclaw and Brackenfur exchanged looks and padded around their leader, but Mousefur stayed, a coy look on her face. Firestar glanced at the dusky brown she-cat. "What?"

"You know... wishing for something to happen doesn't mean it'll come true," she said mildly.

Firestar flushed and tried to maintain his air of importance over his warrior, but his chest deflated and he shrugged. "Yeah... I know. I'm just a little-" He caught himself quickly, feeling furious.
He was the leader, for crying out loud! He couldn't go whining to his warriors! What would they think of him?

But Mousefur just twitched her whiskers. "It's alright. Everyone has dry spells. Even the seasons." With that, she padded away and left Firestar standing there, blinking.

He shook himself again, and sighed.

"Firestar?"