Dawn light glinted off the low bushes as the horizon began to brighten. A silver streak traced the skyline, outlining every one of the plants in light grey as the sun crept further and further up, almost ready to peak over the hills and cast its golden morning light over the forest.

In a ravine, shaded with ferns and scattered with rocks, a cat stirred. His whiskers twitched as the birds' morning song swirled into his ears, and his emerald eyes opened, swinging lazilmind refused to let him sink back into sleep again. Sighing, he got up, shook a few scraps of moss off his fur and blinked sharply to clear his visioy from side to side. He closed his eyes, curling up on the moss, laying his tail over his ears as he tried to block out the sounds, however his n.

There were no other cats in Falconstar's den, for the obvious reason; he was the leader of WindClan, and got the supposed privilege of having a den to himself. However, as much as he liked being alone and being able to think without the sound of other cats around him, his den sometimes seemed very big, and he was just a small StarClan warrior in the midst of all of Silverpelt. Today, he had to make a decision about the Clan's future, and needed to consult one of his senior warriors.

Falconstar was a very thoughtful cat who tried to avoid battles if he could help it. Unlike once-friendly ThunderClan's new leader, Foxstar, he usually tried to talk out disputes with other Clans instead of jumping into battle. Some cats sneered at him and called him weak, but he wasn't going to put his Clan in danger when there were other ways of solving problems.

He wasn't a particularly physically strong leader, but he was clever and quick. Whenever his Clan was struggling, he would put things right with just a few simple words, giving the Clan courage and at the same time pushing their worries aside so they could get on with their lives. Earlier in his leadership, he had made several mistakes, but as he led his Clan further on in time, he began to grow stronger and was now one of the most respected leaders in the forest.

However, Falconstar was not getting any younger. He had been leader of his Clan for many, many seasons, and even though he was still a formidable warrior, he was on the last of his lives, but no one except him and Redfeather, WindClan's medicine cat, knew. With his deputy, Blackear, falling sick and becoming too weak to take over should something happen to Falconstar, he had to make the decision of who would be the new deputy, as it was already confirmed that Blackear was retiring.

Closing his eyes, he made his decision right there on the spot. He had been thinking about it for a long period of the night, and now he was certain of his choice.

The WindClan leader pushed his way through the bushes at the front of his den, emerging in the weak, milky light. He was the only cat awake as he bounded down the few boulders by his den, his brown tabby coat rippling as he moved. He padded across the clearing, ears forward as he listened for any other cats that might be awake, and reached the warriors' area.

It was a small clearing amongst a cluster of low-growing bushes, with a taller bush overhanging part of the den. The senior warriors were supposed to sleep under the bush, where they were more sheltered from the rain, and the newer warriors would sleep exposed to the sky, but WindClan were known for their love of sleeping outside and being close to their warrior ancestors, so not many of the warriors followed this custom. Falconstar poked his head through the bushes and spotted his chosen warrior, his dark mottled pelt rising and falling as he slept.

Careful not to wake any of the others, Falconstar called out to the tom. "Marshclaw?"
There was no need to repeat his name; the tom was known to be a light sleeper and awoke instantly. He blinked at his leader, amber eyes dulled with sleep. He stretched, being careful to avoid the other warriors, and got to his paws as Falconstar beckoned to him with his tail. Picking his way around the sleeping huddles of his Clanmates, he came to stand by his leader. He nodded to him, a signal for him to begin.

"Not here," Falconstar whispered, casting a glance at the rest of the warriors. One of them stirred, clearly close to waking up. "I don't want the others to hear."

Marshclaw nodded again, still not speaking. When Falconstar sprang away into the gorse bushes with a flick of his tail, the warrior followed, steadily padding after him until they were walking at the same pace. Falconstar looked up at the larger warrior, then spoke.
"Marshclaw, I have a proposition for you."

The big warrior said nothing still, just nodded at Falconstar with a keen interest, signalling for him to go on.

"As you know," Falconstar began, choosing his words carefully, "Blackear has been sick for a while now." He could tell by the way Marshclaw's ears flicked up that he had guessed his leader's words. Nevertheless, he kept going. "He announced to me last night that he is stepping down, and moving to the Elder's den if he gets better. I have to choose a new deputy, and my first choice would be you." He caught Marshclaw's eye, a simple question kindling in its green depths.

Marshclaw dipped his head. "If this is what you wish," he meowed in his deep voice, "I will take up the position in Blackear's place."

"Thank you, Marshclaw," Falconstar mewed in relief. He had not only chosen Marshclaw for his strength and bravery; the mottled warrior was also a good thinker, with good battle strategies on the tips of his whiskers. He was a magnificent hunter as well, even though that wasn't his strong point. He was certain that he had made the right choice for the new deputy. He would announce it at Moonhigh.

"I'll stay here and hunt," Marshclaw informed him. "I'll see if I can pick anything up to bring back to camp."

"I'll send out the Dawn patrol," Falconstar called back as he began to bound away, his tabby tail flicking. "Try to avoid clashing with them."

"I will," the other warrior meowed back.

What Falconstar didn't see, was the ghost of a sly smile that flickered across the once-nonchalant Marshclaw's face.