A/N: Hi guys! I've had this story in my head for years, so I'm glad I've finally started to write it. I hope you enjoy it – please leave a review if you do!
Chapter One
It was growing dark. Tiny pressed himself into the hollow of a pine tree, trying to ignore the blazing pain of his wounds. His mind could not stop replaying the terrifying experience he had just endured. He'd run away from his housefolk and ventured into the woods, only to be confronted by a patrol of savage forest cats. Two of them watched as the third, a huge tabby tom called Tigerpaw, mauled Tiny like a fox. "You'll never forget me," Tigerpaw had snarled. Tiny didn't think he could ever forget his attacker: his dark tabby fur, his long bloodstained claws, his hungry amber eyes.
He managed to get away, but in his panic Tiny had run deeper into the forest rather than escaping to his housefolk's nest. Only when Tiny had put a road between himself and his attackers did he stop running and crawl into the hollow of a pine tree to hide, where he lay now, trembling.
Suddenly the nearby undergrowth rustled. Tiny bristled. Had the forest cats found him?
A cat emerged from the undergrowth. Tiny unsheathed his claws, ready to fight back this time, but it wasn't Tigerpaw. Instead, a snowy white she-cat with long whiskers padded towards him, her tail raised in greeting. Starlight shimmered in her fur, and her eyes were two blue moons.
Bewildered, Tiny looked around to find that the sky was suddenly clear. Before the moon had been covered with clouds, and the night was pitch-black; now thousands of stars lay strewn across the sky, like raindrops on black fur, and the forest floor had turned to silver in the moonlight.
"Do not be afraid, little one," the starry she-cat meowed.
Indignation made Tiny forget his fear. "I'm not little," he protested. "I'm plenty big!"
The she-cat gave a mrrow of amusement. "Of course; I only meant that you are young in age. But you are big in heart and courage, and you will not be Tiny for much longer."
'I will not be tiny for much longer'? Tiny repeated, puzzled. Hope flared in his chest. Does she mean that I'm going to grow up to be big and strong like my siblings after all? Or…
"Do you mean that I am going to die?" Tiny mewed in a small voice.
"No, little one," the she-cat meowed. "Not if you choose to live and hunt and fight. If you choose, you will taste the blood of a freshly-killed mouse on your tongue and feel the wind on your fur as you run. You will defend your home with all the strength of your companions beside you and burn with love and loyalty and fellowship. You will no longer fear the shadows, for you will be the shadows." She fixed her glittering gaze on him. "Now tell me, little one. Will you accept death like a piece of prey which finds itself between the jaws of a fox? Or are you going to fight it like a warrior?"
Tiny trembled. All his life he had yearned for friendship. The very reason he ran away from home in the first place was because he wasn't wanted – not by his littermates, not by his mother and not by his housefolk. Now it sounded as if this strange starry cat was offering him a brand new life in the forest. He wasn't certain what exactly her words meant. But there's nothing for me back with my housefolk, he decided.
"I'm going to fight it like a warrior," Tiny mewed. "But…" He glanced down at his flank, where Tigerpaw's claw marks were crisscrossed across his pelt.
The white she-cat vanished into the undergrowth. Tiny pricked his ears, wondering if she'd left, but a few heartbeats later she reappeared with a bundle of leaves in her mouth. Tiny tried not to wince as she chewed up the leaves and licked the paste onto his scratches. But with each new lick, Tiny felt strength return to his body until finally he felt able to stand. As he rose to his paws, Tiny felt triumphant, his fear of Tigerpaw forgotten.
"Thanks!" he purred, twisting to look at the paste she'd applied to his wounds.
There was no reply. Tiny looked back up to see that the starry cat was gone. Fur prickling, he whipped his head up to the sky then gave a sigh of relief when he saw that the stars were still there, glittering above the treetops. He could no longer see the white she-cat, but something about the sky of stars made Tiny feel that she was still there.
The stars were gone when Tiny awoke. Instead sunlight pooled in dapples on Tiny's black fur, making him feel uncomfortably hot. His body felt stiff and his wounds ached, though they felt a lot less painful than before. He narrowed his ice-blue eyes to adjust to the bright rays of sun. It was then Tiny realised that he had no idea where he was.
He looked around. It seemed he was in some sort of cave or den. Peering more closely, he saw that herbs were stuffed into cracks in the walls and that the whole place was filled with their sharp, peppery tang. It smelt like the starry cat he met yesterday, he realised. Was this her den?
He tried to rise to his paws but immediately was met with a coarse, raspy voice. "Stay where you are, kittypet," it snapped, "I haven't wasted my valuable herbs on closing your wounds for you to wriggle around and open them up again."
Tiny searched for the source of the voice and saw, at the edges of his vision, a she-cat with thick, matted grey fur. She had her back to him, now and then turning to the side to sort herbs into a pile; as she did, Tiny noticed that she had the most exceptionally flattened face he'd ever seen.
That's not the starry cat I met, Tiny thought with a feeling of disappointment, and then confusion. "Did you put that paste on my scratches?" he demanded. He thought the starry cat had treated his wounds – not this flat-faced grey she-cat. Did he just dream that he'd met a starry cat?
"No, I only changed the dressing – your wounds has already been treated when our warriors found you," the flat-faced cat answered. Tiny breathed a sigh of relief; he hadn't just dreamt up the starry cat, after all. "It was fine work, that dressing. Who did it for you?"
Tiny hesitated. His littermates always accused him of telling tall tales and simply laughed at any of the stories he told them. Even his mother never believed a word he said. Would this she-cat think he was lying, too?
"A starry cat did it," Tiny admitted.
Tiny expected her to explode into hysterics like his brother and sister usually did, or dismiss him as having an overactive imagination like his mother. But to his shock, the flat-faced she-cat bristled and whipped round to face him. Tiny managed to look at her properly for the first time. Her ears were torn, cracked yellow fangs hung over her lips, and her eyes, wide-set and bright orange, were stretched wide as gawped at him.
"Are you sure?" she demanded. "What did the starry cat look like? What did it say to you?"
Tiny shifted uncomfortably in his nest, puzzled as to why it seemed so important. "Well, she had long whiskers and blue eyes," he began hesitantly. "I – I think she had white fur, but it was hard to tell – it was all shimmery, like stars had fallen on her fur, like raindrops. She told me not to be afraid and that I wasn't going to be tiny anymore and that I was going to eat blood and turn into a shadow." Tiny shrugged. "Then she licked some chewed-up herbs onto my wounds and disappeared. That's it. I'm telling the truth, I promise," he added quickly.
The matted grey she-cat blinked at him as if she were only seeing him for the first time. She began to tremble, and the fur along the back of her spine prickled. Just as Tiny began to worry she was having some sort of fit, she suddenly pelted out of the den, kicking up the herbs she'd just sorted as she went.
Tiny's tail twitched uncomfortably and he wondered if he'd said something wrong. The she-cat's reaction to his account was very strange; he almost preferred his littermates laughing at him.
Heartbeats later, the flat-faced she-cat burst back into the den – but she wasn't alone. Following her was a magnificent tomcat with dark grey fur. Though his greying muzzle betrayed his age, powerful muscles rippled under his pelt as he walked. He cast an impressive figure as he looked down at Tiny.
"So you are the kittypet the Clan has been talking about," the dark grey tom rumbled. "You must be wondering who we are. I am Cedarstar, leader of ShadowClan." He angled his ears towards the flat-faced grey she-cat. "This is Yellowfang, medicine cat of ShadowClan. She's been tending to you since our warriors brought you back to our camp last moonhigh."
Tiny's head was spinning. He didn't understand half of what the dark grey tom was meowing about. What was ShadowClan? What was a medicine cat, and who were these warriors? And what strange names they had!
"I'm Tiny," he mewed.
"Well, Tiny," Cedarstar meowed, "it seems you're quite a way from Twolegplace. Would you mind telling us what you were doing trespassing in ShadowClan territory?"
A wave of fear washed over Tiny. The savage forest cats had accused him of trespassing right before he'd been attacked. Were these new forest cats going to attack him, too?
"I didn't know I was trespassing - I was just trying to escape. I was attacked," he explained hurriedly.
"Attacked?" Cedarstar's eyes narrowed.
"It happened near my housefolk's nest, in the oak forest," Tiny mewed. "There were three cats, but I can only remember one well. He was really big and had dark tabby fur and long claws – longer than any I've ever seen! I think they called him Tigerpaw. I'll never forget him. He attacked me, and then I ran across the road and hid in the pine forest. That's when the starry cat found me."
"ThunderClan!" Cedarstar spat, turning to Yellowfang. "What mouse-hearts, to attack a kit! How typical of them to poke their noses into other Clans' businesses when their own paws aren't clean."
"You know them?" Tiny mewed, wide-eyed.
"Yes," Cedarstar meowed, "and I know the cat you speak of, Tigerpaw. He's Thistleclaw's apprentice; he's not been training to be a warrior long but he's already much bigger than the other apprentices and making a reputation for himself. No doubt Thisteclaw was one of the cats there, egging him on. A nasty apprentice being trained by an even nastier mentor."
"Can we stop talking about the cats who attacked him," Yellowfang interrupted impatiently, "and start talking about the StarClan cat he saw?"
Cedarstar glanced disbelievingly at Tiny. "How do you know this kittypet hasn't just made all of that up? Kits make up stories. He just told us that he met ThunderClan cats before he met us, Yellowfang. Perhaps he found out about StarClan from them."
"Yes, I'm sure Thistleclaw gave the kit a very informative lecture on our warrior ancestors right before he told his stupid apprentice to rip the kit's pelt off," Yellowfang said drily. "No, Cedarstar, I think the kit is telling the truth. He met a former ShadowClan medicine cat. How else would he have survived the wounds he got from ThunderClan?"
Suddenly she leant close to Cedarstar's ear. "Look at his eyes!" she hissed. "Ice- blue. He's the cat from the prophecy, Cedarstar, I'm sure of it."
Cedarstar looked over Tiny thoughtfully. "How old are you, little kit?"
"Six moons," Tiny replied.
"Six moons!" Cedarstar repeated in astonishment. "You hardly look bigger than three months! Are you telling me the truth, kit?" The grey tomcat fixed Tiny with a stern gaze. "It is a grave crime to lie to a Clan leader."
"I'm not lying!" Tiny protested indignantly. "I'm just a little small, that's all. But I'm big in heart and courage," he added. "The starry cat said so."
Tiny thought he saw Cedarstar's whiskers twitch with amusement. "Yes, I've no doubt about your courage; you're sparkier than the average kittypet." Cedarstar paused. "Have you ever thought about life in the forest, Tiny? It must be a very comfortable life for you, back with your Twolegs. I can't imagine you would want to leave a warm nest and an endless supply of food for any reason."
"My mama always told me that forest cats ate kits, then sharpened their claws on the bones. I guess Tigerpaw is one of those cats," Tiny mewed truthfully. "But you cats don't seem so bad. And I've loved the forest when I've gone exploring before. There are so many exciting smells, and the leaves feel so good on my paws… And I hate living at my housefolk's nest, anyway. I'm six moons old, which means that I'm supposed to go and live with some other housefolk soon. But none of them wanted me." His tail drooped. "My littermate said that if I don't find any housefolk to live with soon, I'll get thrown in the river."
Cedarstar exchanged an expressionless look with Yellowfang.
"I see," Cedarstar meowed. "Well, in any case, it looks like you will be staying with ShadowClan until Yellowfang is convinced that your wounds have healed. Then we will decide what to do with you." He gave his white chest a few swift licks before turning to leave. "I have Clan duties to return to now, so I'll leave you to rest. It was good to meet you, Tiny." Cedarstar gave his tail a farewell flick before padding out of the den.
Tiny watched him leave, still in awe. Then he turned to Yellowfang.
"What was Cedarstar talking about?" he asked. "I didn't understand some of the things he said. Who are StarClan? What's an apprentice? What is a kittypet?"
"There will be time for questions later, little kit," Yellowfang mewed dismissively. "Right now, you ought to get back to sleep. Your body is still recovering – and you're still a kit, six moons or not."
Tiny opened his jaws to protest, but Yellowfang cut him off before he could speak.
"If you really want to learn about life in the forest," Yellowfang snapped, "the first thing you should know is this. It doesn't matter whether you're Clan leader, a warrior from a rival Clan or some kittypet who has never even heard of StarClan before. Nobody argues with the medicine cat."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Here's something for you to think about before the next one comes out. If Tiny were to become an apprentice, what would his name be? Let me know if you have any good ideas!