{this is how my fursona, not me, found BlogClan} PROLOGUE The winter wind blew snow around as the ginger tom walked in the snow. Up ahead, he smelled cat! A cat from the Tribe of Endless Hunting! He raced as quickly as he could to the starry cat. "Stoneteller," the old starry cat mewed. "I have a quest for your cats." The cat ushered Stoneteller to a pool of water, where a small cat was laying. "Clover, why that's Snow! She's a kit!" hissed Stoneteller. "I know." mewed Clover. Instantly the image of Snow dissolved and a strange symbol remained. "What if they die?" mewed Stoneteller. She's dead.