The group of thirty cats that would soon found the five clans had departed from the Tribe of Rushing Water seasons ago, following the Sun Trail as prophecized. The cats that chose to stay behind grieved them - with the expectation that their quest to find a better home would not align with the optimistic visions of Stoneteller.
As seasons passed, the group that took the Sun Trail was gradually forgotten. Stoneteller had passed from her illness, appointing a Healer to-be in her stead - one of the kits that had been left behind. This Healer to-be eventually took on the name Teller of the Pointed Stones, or Stoneteller, much like her predecessor. The tribe slowly grew, and they faced hardships like never before. Stoneteller felt the weight of responsibility heavy on her shoulders as she witnessed the gaunt faces of the young ones, their ribs visible beneath their thin pelts. The elders, once the repository of wisdom, now appeared frail and weakened.
It haunted her. Doubts swirled in her mind and the burden of an unfulfilled vision carried like a stone in her chest. The hope she held for a better home - for a thriving tribe - seemed elusive. The memories of the cats who had departed on the Sun Trail seasons ago haunted her. Famine returned with vengeance, and she couldn't ignore the reality that our home had become a place of scarcity and suffering. The young ones, their eyes wide with hunger, looked to her for guidance, their silent pleas echoing in the hollow. There simply wasn't enough prey to sustain them all.
Reluctantly, she made the decision to send more cats on the same quest - a quest for a better home. The journey would be nothing short of perilous, but the alternative was a slow descent into despair. I can't bear to watch my tribe wither away.
As she announced her decision, hesitation lingered in the air. Senior members, wise and weathered by moons, remembered the grief that accompanied the departure of the first group. Their eyes bore the scars of loss - and as they stared up at her in shock, she couldn't help but understand. Yet, hopeful eyes were gathered in the crowd. Eyes that did not understand what they were giving up.
Casting our stones as her predecessor once did was the only choice. It became a collective of uncertainty and hope. Yet, the decision was made. Half of our tribe would embark on a journey, but not the Sun Trail - the path tainted by unanswered questions. No, instead they will follow the setting sun on the Sunset Trail, a new direction guided by the fading light.
Soaring Hawk, a seasoned brown tabby tom with piercing blue eyes, emerged as the natural leader of the group. His long history with the tribe and his adept skills in navigating the wilderness earned him the trust of his peers. Stoneteller could only hope he does what is right.
As the first few steps were taken a few days later, a lump formed in her throat. The fading light painted the outlines of their silhouettes, gradually diminishing against the horizon. She whispered a silent prayer, hoping that the Sunset Trail would lead them to the promised land.
