Harestar's POV

Nightstrike, the black dragon with wary green eyes, grudgingly allowed me to help release the trap from his wounded forepaw. It took a bit of gentle coaxing—and a lot of patience—but once free, his demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He still radiated distrust, but there was a flicker of reluctant gratitude in his gaze.

Now, as we soared through the clearing rain, the fire on the moor safely behind us, I found myself studying him out of the corner of my eye. He was smaller than me, his movements agile despite the wound. His ear plates twitched at every sound, and his slitted pupils darted around as though he expected an attack at any moment.

"My name is Nightstrike," he had said when I asked. His voice was still cool, guarded, but I could sense the weight behind his words. "And don't think this makes us friends, Ice Dragon. I owe you a debt, nothing more."

I'd shrugged, my wings slicing through the air as I banked to the left. "I don't need a friend or a debt repaid," I'd replied evenly. "I just don't like seeing dragons in pain—especially not on clan land where the fire could've hurt my family."

His response was a noncommittal grunt, but he followed me without further argument.

Now, as the wind whipped past us and the charred smell of the fire faded into the distance, I focused on our destination: the Gilded Hollow. It was a place I'd only recently learned about—a sanctuary my mother, Skydancer, had created for dragons on the run. Hidden deep within a forested valley, it was said to be a haven where dragons of all kinds could find shelter and safety.

I glanced at Nightstrike, whose injured paw occasionally disrupted the smooth rhythm of his flight. "We're almost there," I called over the wind. "The Gilded Hollow isn't far."

"The Gilded Hollow?" he echoed, his voice tinged with suspicion. "Sounds like a fairytale. How do I know you're not leading me into a trap?"

I rolled my eyes, though I doubted he could see it. "If I wanted to trap you, I wouldn't have freed you from that bear trap in the first place," I retorted. "And you'd already be dragon toast in that fire."

He huffed but didn't argue further, his ear plates flicking in what I assumed was irritation—or perhaps reluctant acceptance.

Finally, the landscape below began to shift. The charred moor gave way to rolling hills, and then a lush forest appeared, vibrant and alive despite the rain. I could see the faint glimmer of the Gilded Hollow ahead—a massive cavern with emerald moss coating its walls and a golden light spilling from its entrance like the warm glow of a hearth. Inside, prey thrived year-round, and the atmosphere was always just right for resting wings and healing wounds.

"There," I said, gesturing with a flick of my tail. "That's the Gilded Hollow. You'll be safe there."

Nightstrike hesitated mid-air, his green eyes narrowing as he studied the sanctuary below. "And what's the catch?" he asked, his voice sharp with mistrust.

"No catch," I replied, exhaling through my nostrils in mild exasperation. "You stay, you heal, you leave when you're ready. Simple as that. My mother built this place for dragons like you—ones who've been pushed out or hunted down. It's neutral territory."

For a moment, he didn't respond, his wings beating steadily as he hovered beside me. Then, with a low grunt, he dipped his wings and descended toward the hollow. I followed, landing a few paces behind him as he stepped cautiously into the cavern. The soft green glow of the moss bathed his black scales in a faint light, and I watched as he sniffed the air, his tense posture relaxing ever so slightly.

"It's... quiet," he murmured, almost to himself.

"Quiet's a good thing," I said, folding my wings neatly against my back. "Get some rest. You'll need it."

As he settled into a corner of the hollow, I lingered by the entrance, my gaze sweeping the landscape beyond. Nightstrike was right to be wary—peace like this didn't come easily, especially for dragons. But for now, at least, he was safe. And that was enough.

SCENEBREAK

As the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange that resembled a bowl of warm soup, I bid Nightstrike farewell. The dragon's wary gaze followed me until I transformed mid-air, shifting back into my feline form with graceful precision. Wings folded neatly against my sides, I soared home, the familiar landscape of ThunderClan stretching out beneath me.

It didn't take long before the moor came into view again, its vast expanse dotted with hardy grasses swaying in the evening breeze. But something was amiss. A few WindClan cats were gathered near a charred spot on the moor, their coats dulled by soot and their expressions tense. My ears perked up, and I felt a prickle of unease crawl down my spine.

I descended smoothly, the transformation complete as my paws touched the ground. The scent of smoke still lingered faintly in the air, a stark reminder of the fire that had threatened our sanctuary just days before. As I approached, Tallstar, WindClan's leader, turned to greet me, his long tail twitching in a friendly yet concerned manner.

"Oh, Harestar, hey!" Tallstar called out, his voice warm with genuine relief. "It's great to see you."

I offered him a soft smile, though my mind was already racing with questions. "Hello, Tallstar. It's good to see you too. What's going on here?"

Tallstar glanced toward the charred spot, his amber eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "We noticed the smoke earlier and came to investigate. There's a burned area here, but it's not like anything we've seen before."

I walked closer, my paws crunching softly on the dried grass. The ground near the spot was blackened, with scorched earth and a few smoldering embers still whispering remnants of the fire. No trees or large plants were nearby—just open moorland. It puzzled me, especially given the heavy rain that had recently quelled any natural fires.

"Are you sure it's not a natural fire?" I asked, crouching to inspect the area more closely. My claws sifted through the ashes, searching for any clues that might explain the anomaly.

Tallstar shook his head, his coat bristling slightly. "We thought so at first, but the pattern of the burn is too deliberate. It's almost as if someone—or something—intentionally set it."

A chill ran down my spine. "Intentional? That doesn't make sense in this weather. The rain should have extinguished any flames by now."

Just then, one of the younger WindClan cats approached, her whiskers twitching nervously. "Tallstar, Harestar, you should see this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She led us to the edge of the charred area, where small scorch marks formed intricate patterns on the ground—almost like symbols.

I knelt beside the markings, my mind racing. "These look like... symbols? But what for? I can't think of any clan rituals or practices that involve fire like this."

Tallstar leaned in, his nose twitching as he took a closer sniff. "Maybe it's a warning," he suggested cautiously. "Or a message of some sort."

Before I could respond, a sudden rustling from the nearby bushes made us all jump. My muscles tensed, eyes darting toward the source of the sound. Out of the foliage emerged a small, frightened fox—its fur singed around the edges, eyes wide with fear.

"Please," the fox whimpered, struggling to stay upright. "Help me..."

I exchanged a worried glance with Tallstar before moving to his side. "What happened to you?" I asked gently, extending a paw to offer support.

The fox collapsed into my arms, shivering from both the cold and shock. "It was... the fire. It wasn't natural. Some dark magic... I don't know how to stop it."

Tallstar's ears flattened against his head as he processed the fox's words. "Dark magic?" he echoed, his voice tinged with fear.

I stood, supporting the fox as we both looked back at the charred symbols. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anger and determination fueling my next steps. "We need to find out who—or what—is behind this. If it's dark magic, it could threaten not just WindClan, but all the clans."

The fox nodded weakly, gratitude shining in her eyes despite her condition. "Please, you have to help us. It's spreading... faster than the rain can stop it."

I glanced at Tallstar, who gave a resolute nod. "We'll do everything we can to help," I promised, the weight of leadership settling firmly on my shoulders. "But first, we need to gather more information."

As night began to fall, the sky now a deep indigo sprinkled with twinkling stars, I knew our mission had just become more urgent. The bonds between the clans were strong, but now, more than ever, we had to stand united against an unknown threat. With Tallstar by my side and the injured fox in tow, we set off toward the heart of the moor, determined to uncover the mystery behind the unnatural fire and protect our families from whatever darkness lurked in the shadows.

The journey ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: together, we could face whatever challenges came our way. And perhaps, in the process, discover a strength we never knew we had.