The story of my OC, Cloudstar of LochClan. His full story wasn't exactly told clearly on my OC page, as his true story was full of grief, jealousy, loss, and a new beginning.
Prologue - His Beginning Edit
A gray-and-white queen purred, gazing down at her two newborn kits. One was a mottled gray-and-white she-cat with a short, stumpy tail, while the other one was a white, gray, and black tom with a lengthy tail. She hadn't decided what to name them, nor had her mate.
"Silverbell, I think I know what we should name the she-cat. We should name her Bleak, as her pelt resembles the stony, frigid mountains that tower over this land," suggested a burly black-and-gray tom crouching beside the she-cat. His eyes shown with a vibrant pride, knowing that she would grow into a fine she-cat.
Glancing up at him, the queen wondered, "As for the tom," she rested her paw on his lush, silky pelt, "We should name him Cloud. His pelt's splashes appear like the clouds in the sky, and his fur feels like what I've always thought a cloud would feel like. Do you think so too, MacGrant?"
MacGrant nodded, his gaze resting on the tom. You'll be a fine cat, too, Cloud, he thought, neatly wrapping his tail around his paws. "Shall I go and hunt a few pieces of prey? You'll need some if you're to feed those kits."
"Yes, please, I haven't eaten in nearly a day," Silverbell briskly responded, her gaze returning back on the two kits.
MacGrant padded out from under the bush, the lush, vibrant wilderness scents of nighttime filling his nostrils. He strode away, unsheathing his claws and perking his nicked ears. The tom heard the cry of a thrush in a nearby tree, so he briskly padded towards the sound.
He got closer and closer, until he could vaguely see the thrush's shadow being illuminated in the moonlight. The mottled bird flew down to peck at seeds that had been dropped nearby, probably by Twolegs. Crouching, MacGrant sprung onto the thrush. But, as he sank his claws into the thrush's neck, a she-cat's yowl interrupted his triumph.
"You there, rogue! What business do you have on CragClan's territory?" MacGrant looked up to see a small brown-and-white tabby she-cat, her green eyes glinting in the darkness.
"N-Nothing at all, just hunting for my mate and kits. I'll only take this piece, then I won't come back, if that's fine," he meowed, picking the bird up in his jaws.
A distant yowl sounded, which seemed to call, "Ivypaw!" The she-cat scampered to where the voice was, leaving MacGrant to his prey.
Forest cats. No mercy whatsoever, not even towards kits! He picked up the thrush, padding back to where his small, humble family lay.
But as he ducked back under the bush, an albino raven screeched outside. It flew above the treeline, its pink eyes glinting in the starlight. This omen, the albino raven, was the first of many omens to come, for the kits born this night would see much death and terror in their lives.