Note: I may make a few changes to canon. Just a fair warning to those who do not like that,

I'd like to thank many people for their contributions to this story. One friend in particular is taking on many mantles during this story's creation. She's not only my editor, but also the inspiration for Fernkit, and my supporter through all this. I'd also like to thank another of my friends, who inspired my more unusual character, Moonfeather. Without him, I never would have thought of making Moonfeather a 'lazy genius' (as I like to call her). I'd also like to thank those of you reading this story. If you have any comments or suggestions, I'd love to hear them. And now enough of my blabbering. The story is waiting for you.

Chapter 1

On the edge of a thick, green forest in Michigan, not a sound could be heard but the soft skittering of forest creatures and the breathing of a young kit.

The brown and orange tortoiseshell had paused to sniff the air, and then whispered to herself, "I must be entering clan territory. The scent is strongest here," after which she looked up at the sky and continued, "Don't worry, mama. I'll fulfill our dream."

She then stepped over the scent barrier at the edge of the forest, marking the territory she just entered as forbidden. While the forest around her remained unchanged, her demeanor had become tenser, her ears now straining for the smallest noise and her fur rising slightly. Not long after crossing the border did her vigilance pay off. She caught the sound of poorly stifled footsteps. Realizing it was a clan cat, as who else would it be in their territory, she allowed her fur to lay back to appear non-threatening and tensely stood still, calling out a small, shaky hello. A confident voice answered back with its own confused hello, and from that direction came a young Siamese kit, no older than her. He gazed at her with surprised eyes but then quickly snapped out of his momentary trance and looked around, motioning her to join him in the underbrush. She followed him, less tense now as she confronted the source of her moon-long anxieties. No matter how much she had let her mind taunt her of the consequences of failure in this moment, even she couldn't stress when she met this strange kit. I mean, to her, her whole future relied on this moment, and instead of providing her with a cat in a position to help her, fate had sent a kit. It certainly eased her fears, seeing someone her own age, but it was certainly not useful for achieving her goal.

"Why are we hiding in the undergrowth?" She asked the strange kit. Now that she was closer to him, she could smell the scent of the clan on him, the same scent that was on the barrier, confirming that he was indeed a clan cat.

Quiet. I'm not really supposed to be out here," he explained quickly, ears straining for the slightest sound.

"Oh, so you're a kit," she said, understanding his sneaky behavior now. But then she realized maybe this kit was not quite who she wanted to be with. If the other clan cats caught her with him… well there goes her hopes. Before she had time to really decide her course of action, he spoke.

"Speaking of being where you're not supposed to be, why are you here? I've never seen you before, and you don't smell like any clan I know of. Not to mention the fact that you're obviously younger than me, since you're so small."

"I am not younger than you and I'm not small. I am five moons old," she retorted, but then regretted it. She figured she might as well be nice to him. If she is nice to him, at least there'll be one cat on her side. And maybe she was a bit small- she just didn't like being reminded of it. Before she could apologize, he again interrupted her thoughts. Something about him just seemed to call out that this wasn't an abnormal behavior on his part.

"Ooh, feisty. You didn't strike me as the feisty type. But you haven't answered my question."

As if you gave me time to, she thought. Instead, she responded, "Oh, sorry. I'm not a clan cat. I'm a rogue."

"A rogue?" He shouted in surprise. He then realized his mistake as new voices were heard in the forest.

"Fernkit? Where'd you go, you mousebrain!" called the soft, worry-filled voice of an older male.

"I heard him," responded a slightly deeper voice, "he can't be far."

"Mouse dung!" The Siamese kit said under his breath, "they heard me."

The other young kit, however, just realized things were going to be a lot more difficult. She was about to be caught, a stranger, with this kit who was clearly in major trouble. As she steeled herself to make a run for it, a head suddenly appeared in the bush and grabbed Fernkit's, or so she thought his name was, scruff.

"Got you! What do you have to say for yourself?" the cat with the softer voice said. Now that he was in sight, she could see he was Siamese like Fernkit. Perhaps they were related?

"Hi dad," Fernkit said unabashedly.

Well, that certainly makes sense, the tortoiseshell kit thought, considering his similar appearance and how his earlier worry is now replaced with annoyance.

"Why were you out of camp?" the other voice she had heard took over. This one belonged to a large, orange-striped Maine Coon. His voice, unlike the other, was calmer and more authoritative.

"Well, I wanted to see the territory and I didn't see why I should stay in camp. I also wanted to collect evidence to prove my point that kits should be allowed out of camp as long as there is a warrior present," he responded, without any hesitation and completely devoid of shame.

"Fernkit, we talked about this. It's too dangerous," Fernkit's father said.

"But I did collect evidence. Plus, I met somebody."

"Fernkit, you- Wait, what?" His father said.

"Hey! You! Come out of the bush!" Fernkit called.

The tortoiseshell kit hung her head in shame and cautiously crawled out of the bush. She refused to look in anyone's eyes.

Just my luck, she thought, to be caught with a major troublemaker. No way they'll help me now.

"Seems you weren't lying," Fernkit's father said to Fernkit.

"I never lie! She's a rogue by the way."

"Aren't you a little young to be by yourself?" The Maine coon chimed in.

"I'm older than I look. I'm 5 moons," she said, still looking down.

"That's still awfully young. Why are you here and not with your family?" The older Siamese cat asked.

"Well, my mamas up in Star Clan. As for why I'm here- well... I was hoping maybe I could join a clan."

"You seem to know our culture awfully well for a rogue. Why's that?" commented Fernkit.

"Fernkit, stay out of this! You're in enough trouble already!" The Siamese cat scolded.

"My mama taught me about you. Said she always looked up to clan cats. Had a lot of respect for the clan life and taught my brother and I all about it," she responded to Fernkit's question.

"You really want to join?" The Maine Coon asked.

"Yes, more than anything. But I understand you can't just accept random cats whenever you want to. If you say no, I'll be on my way."

She then held her breath in anticipation. Despite being found with Fernkit, nothing else really went wrong. Still, she couldn't help but fear the answer. What would she do if they said no?

"Well, welcome to the clan. I'm Pinestar, and the cat holding Fernkit is Thornpelt."