Darkstar stepped forward, pressing his nose to the cold waters of the moon peak. He dropped to the floor, sleep consuming him. He blinked his eyes open to see his mother, Shiningstorm gazing seriously at him, her eyes a shade of blue-purple, like energy. “M-mom?” He asked, quivering. This only happens during prophecies! He thought as his mother opened her mouth. “Two or three times the clans will split, and all the clans must use their wit. We have traveled 3 times through rain and snow. It may be hard, but you’ll make it though. Thunder split into three strikes, a blundering storm. Shadow split through shade and dark, where nobleness will be made. A river’s path, split in two, the marsh’s land belongs to 3, wanderers and clans galore. The moor like it was before, the tunnelers will not run more. The sky will split into three, work together with thee. The canopy will catch the clouds as sky drifts by. And lastly, well, just listen now, the ones most needed aren’t quite same, you see. The tribes will roam among the sea of lake. The island is a suitable home for those who seek caretaking life and to roam.” She croaked, he voice sounding not of hers, but a wise female whom he had never heard before. “Y-yes mother. I… understand…?” She faded as he finished his last word and he felt consciousness return to his body. /The Clans must split…/
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