::CHAPTER ONE::

No tom ever came to visit the nursery, and his mother named no mate.

Orangekit could see it in the way they looked at him, the way they spoke to his mother. Amidst the dense, dark firs of the ShadowClan's territory, against the canvas of a bog full of shadows, his bright ginger coat stuck out like a robin's chest. As he huddled in the dark of the nursery, he knew well, despite his mother's efforts to shelter him from it, that his Clan-mates were speculating about him. It wasn't unusual that he was fatherless, but when no tom in all of ShadowClan had a pelt as bold as his, it begged the question who else it could have come from.

Morning was steadily rolling over the camp and the young tom had no inclination to get up. He pressed deep into his mother's fur, absorbing the comforting warmth she provided. Her flanks rose and fell melodically, almost lulling him back to sleep, until he felt the lean muscles of her body tense below her tabby-and-white coat. A sword of light had pierced through the shadows of the nursery and the brambles draped over its entrance, landing directly on her face and weaning her from her slumber. Orangekit reluctantly sat up as she hefted herself to her paws, fur glimmering in the sun's radiance. A yawn stretched her lips as she blinked the sleep out of her clear blue eyes, came to rest upon him. A smile broke her maw.

"Good morning, little one," she murmured, pulling him into her chest with a paw. She lowered her head and swiped her tongue between his ears, smoothening the sleep-ruffled hairs of his coat. "Did you sleep well?"

Orangekit nodded, scowling as her tongue trailed across his pelt. "Yeah," he replied, before wriggling out of her grip and shaking his pelt. "You don't have to do that anymore, Lilystripe- I'm almost six moons old, y'know."

She chuckled softly. "That just gives me all the more reason to do it. You're going to be an apprentice soon, and I won't be able to treat you like a kit anymore." Reminiscence entered her eyes as she went on, "I remember when you were first born. You were-"

"-Hardly bigger than your own paw, I know, I know," he finished quickly, hoping to StarClan the other kits hadn't heard.

"Hardly strong enough to make a sound, too," came a voice from across the nursery. Mother and son's heads turned to see the tortoiseshell face of the other queen lifting from her paws, her scrutinizing gaze switching between the both of them. "I was honestly surprised you survived that first night, let alone this long." With a wry grin, she added, "Your mother didn't look so good herself, but I suppose she pulled herself together."

Orangekit flattened his ears against his skull. Lilystripe's tail tip twitched in annoyance, but she said nothing as she ran a licked paw over her whiskers.

The queen, picking up on his signal, continued, "Sometimes I wonder what your father would have thought of such a tiny scrap as you, but I suppose he left to avoid finding out."

In an instant, Lilystripe was on her paws, lips slightly pulled back as she snapped at the other queen, "That's enough, Morningbloom."

Morningbloom only laughed, turning to nudge her kits awake. "I'm just saying," she muttered.

Orangekit watched his mother turn around with a snort. He stared up at her as she seemed to contemplate something, but the cloud of thought disappeared as she smiled at him. She was invariably skilled at keeping her thoughts hidden. In a sweet tone, she asked, "Orangekit, why don't you go get us all something to eat?"

Glad for the excuse to leave the nursery, he willingly nodded. He scampered passed Lilystripe and bursted out of the den where, immediately he was struck by a blast of fresh air. All the scents of the marsh filled his nose and his eyes took in the sight of the already bustling camp of ShadowClan. Warriors were scattered across its grounds, some unraveling in luxurious stretches while others spoke casually about the day ahead. Outside the elders den, Silvercloud and Gorseclaw were sharing tongues, and in the shade her den overcast sat Dapplefall, their medicine cat, sorting herbs with her apprentice, Flamewhisker. Excitement bubbled within Orangekit as he spotted a patrol of warriors returning to camp.

That's gonna be me one day! He thought, marveling upon every detail in his sight. For a moment, he was lost in the bliss of his imagination, picturing himself as a lean, powerful warrior, hunting and fighting for his Clan, feeling- with a clarity like the stars on a cloudless night- the willingness to give his life for ShadowClan. However, such a moment faded quickly as he heard the voices of two cats behind him.

"There's that Lilystripe's kit," came one voice, just above a whisper.

"How small he is!" Hissed a reply. "She can hide it all she wants, but there's no way his father is a ShadowClan cat. He looks nothing like any of us- even a cat from another Clan could tell he isn't pure."

As the conversation rumbled between them, all the thrill and pride that had just bloomed within the young cat quickly withered, their words sinking into the soil of his mind where weeds of insecurity and shame began to grow in their place. He hastened his walk towards the fresh-kill pile, head hung low and eyes focused on the ground below him. Despite his mighty attempts, he failed to tune out their conversation.

"There's no way he'll ever grow to be as strong as a ShadowClan cat. I feel bad for whichever warrior has to mentor him. Having an apprentice is an honor, but that would just be a misfortune."

"If any cat has to bear such a burden, it'd best be that disgraceful Sn-"

With a grunt, Orangekit stumbled back. Shock spread through him as he quickly glanced up to see what- or /who/, as he soon realized- he had bumped into.

Above him hovered a large tomcat, whose brawny physique seemed to cast a shadow that wholly engulfed Orangekit's small frame. Striking golden eyes pierced his soul, freezing his paws to the ground beneath them. His amber gaze studied the cat whose dark tabby pelt was thick and covered in scars. Tension seemed to swell between the both of them as they examined one another in a stalemate of stares. Orangekit's heart beat like a trapped bird, frantic for freedom, against the cage of his ribs. He had never seen this cat before. Surely, by his size and age, he must be a ShadowClan warrior. Yet, something seemed off about the cat. Amidst all of ShadowClan, the faintest scent clung to his dark fur, something Orangekit could not quite name. However, the elusive glare of the warrior distracted the young ginger kit. He wondered, what was the warrior thinking? Was he surprised, disappointed, angry that Orangekit had gotten in his way? Did he even know who he was? Was he judging him, or searching for the right insults to send him on his way?

"Pardon," the cat finally said, breaking the silence.

"N-No, it was my bad," Orangekit stammered, trying not to let the nervousness he felt show in his voice. "I was just going to the fresh-kill pile, and I-I wasn't looking where I was going."

"You haven't eaten?" Asked the cat, as if he hadn't heard his excuses.

The young tom shook his head hesitantly. "Lilystripe just sent me to get breakfast."

A flash of something- gone too quick for Orangekit to decipher- ignited in the depths of his golden eyes. Without a word more, the dark tom turned on his paws, plucking a plump thrush off of the top of the fresh-kill pile. When he turned back around, he gestured with a nod for Orangekit to follow him. Unsure, yet not willing to mess up a second time with this cat, Orangekit pursued him quickly. The warrior padded toward the nursery, his steps slowing to a stop as he reached the entrance.

He placed the bird at the mouth of the den, stepping back as Lilystripe slid out of the shadows, a look on her face that Orangekit had never seen before. In her blue eyes shone apprehension, uncertainty. Snakeclaw had glanced at the queen, seeming to share the same feelings.

In a mist of tension, Lilystripe meowed, "Thank you, Snakeclaw."

Snakeclaw dipped his head. "Of course, Lilystripe."

And with that, he was gone. He turned on his paws and slinked off to the other side of camp, while the she-cat stared after him, the contemplation that had glimmered faintly in her eyes earlier that morning returning to her stare. Orangekit walked up to his mother, who seemed to snap out of her trance as he meowed, "Is that a good breakfast?"

She flinched, taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered to her usual warmth as she purred. "It's more than enough. Thank you, love." She lifted the thrush in her jaws, turning to pad over to where Morningbloom was sunning herself in a patch of light, before saying, "Marshkit and Briarkit are playing on the other side of the nursery. Why don't you join them? Then you can have whatever we don't finish."

Orangekit nodded, the idea of play-fighting raising his spirits. He waved his tail in farewell to his mother before scampering away. Behind the nursery, just as she said, were two kits scuffling in the dirt. One was a long-haired she-cat, whose cream coat was splotched with tortoiseshell patches much like her mother's. She was reared on her hind paws, cuffing her sister's ears, who was much shorter haired and a solid brown instead, apart from the darker tones on her face and limbs. Their giggles filled the air as he approached.

"Orangekit! Get her legs, get her legs!" Marshkit, the cream one, meowed, still reared as her sister rose to meet her, with paws locked on each other's shoulders in a mutual attempt to shove each other down.

He surged forward, tackling Briarkit, the other sister, playfully. With a squeal, the two came crashing to the ground on top of him, the three becoming a bundle of tails and whiskers as laughter erupted from them all. As they rolled apart, shaking the dust of their pelts, a purr rumbled in Marshkit's throat.

"That's cheating!" Briarkit whined.

"Nuh-uh!" Marshkit countered with a satisfied grin.

"A warrior has to be prepared for all possibilities," Orangekit teased in a mock-wisdom tone.

The pair chuckled. Briarkit opened her mouth to say something more, but it was a yowl that poured from her maw. Orangekit pinned back his ears, confusion sweeping over him. It was a deep, disturbed sound, one he knew couldn't have come from his den-mate. The yowl resonated throughout the entire camp, rattling their ears, and the three kits spun around to find the source of the cry. Dread slowly trickled down Orangekit's spine, spreading from nerve to nerve throughout his body and making the hairs on his hackles bristle frightfully. The kits immediately huddled together, eyes wide as they watched a patrol of cats burst through the camp entrance, ears pinned back and eyes so wide they seemed to bulge out of their sockets.

A large gray-and-white tom hurried over to them in an instant. To the supposed leader of the patrol, he asked, "What is it, Boulderfoot? What happened?"

Orangekit exchanged worried glances with Marshkit. "They must've seen something terrible," she whispered.

As a reddish-brown tom walked over to the patrol, taking his stance beside the gray-and-white cat, Briarkit murmured alertly, "Look! That's Ruststar."

The leader of the patrol, Boulderfoot, must have lost his breath from sprinting home so swiftly. The dark grey tom managed, however, to speak between heaves for air, "Two cats, dead, on the border. Their throats were slit, and they were old. ThunderClan scent was all over them." A snarl of pure disdain then entered his voice, making the blood run cold in Orangekit's veins. "Those foxes are killing their elders!"

Fury, disgust, and shock rippled throughout the Clan all at once. Lilystripe and Morningbloom found their kits' sides as that snarl broke Boulderfoot's voice. "These cats are scum. They steal our land, they kill without reason, they defy the Warrior Code..." Venom was dripping off his every word as his eyes searched the crowd, locking finally onto something. "And yet we harbor one of them in our own camp. He is no better than any one of those StarClan-forsaken disgraces!"

Before anything could stop him, Boulderfoot plunged through the crowd of gathered cats. Orangekit pressed into his mother nervously as warriors scattered, confused and stressed meows ringing out. As the ground cleared, all eyes came to fall upon Boulderfoot's bristling frame and the dark tabby warrior pinned beneath his claws, a warrior Orangekit had just come to know.

Snakeclaw.

"No," Lilystripe murmured. He glanced at her as he felt her muscles tensing beneath her bristling pelt. Her claws were sunken deep into the soil of camp like they were the only thing keeping her from bounding to the tom's rescue. Her blue gaze was fixed on something, and as he followed it, he understood what it was. A red stream was trickling down the dark warrior's shoulder and forming a pool at his side, something the Orangekit had never seen before.

Blood.

A/N:
Hey, reader!

I don't know your name, and you don't know mine, so let me introduce myself real quick: I don't use my real name online, so just call me Weasel.

I'm no longer an active reader of Warrior Cats, but it holds a special place in my heart as it is the series which inspired me to be an author myself. I grew up on these books, and I always used to write fanfiction of it as a kid, but I never published anything despite always wanting to.

Now that I'm older though, about to go off to college, I'm doing everything I wanted to do as a kid, starting with putting out my own Warrior Cat story. Some names may seem a little weird, maybe even a lot weird, but that is only because I wanted to keep true to the characters I made as a kid. I ask that you please look passed that, and enjoy the story!

I don't know what day I will be uploading, but I will be uploading a new chapter at least once a week (this may waver though, because I am a senior in high school and that demands a lot of attention).

That's about all I had to say. Thank you for reading this far! IF you liked what you read, why not give this story a follow and a review? It would be greatly appreciated!

Until the next chapter though,
Weasel.