Hi everyone! This is a character-driven story told from the perspectives of every single cat in a clan called NightClan. I only used a few of them in the first chapter. Anyway, this sort of works like a TV show but in fanfic format. I'll try to update every week or so, give or take a few days, and I have no idea when it will end. Probably when my inspiration runs out, or I get too busy, or I run out of scenarios to throw my characters into.

So sit back and enjoy the very first chapter! Allegiances are the last chapter, and will be updated as the story progresses. So don't read them yet if you aren't caught up.

Without further ado . . .

It was nearly dark. A gray twilight haze was sweeping in over the thick forest, shrouding the branches and pine needles in shadow. A single star, the first to spring to life that night, was winking coldly overhead. Insects buzzed, an owl softly hooted, and a rustling sounded over the marshy woodlands. A mouse was scraping among dried-up stalks.

A sudden swish of fur, a tiny shriek, and all was silent.

A small she-cat stood among the dried grass, the mouse hanging by its tail from her jaws. She was slim, almost delicate looking, but her pale blue eyes glimmered like ice.

Her silver tabby coat shone even though it was dark, and her banded black tail rippled lazily through the air as she listened for more prey.

She spun around, bristling, at the sound of a cat's pawstep, dropping her catch. Then she relaxed and called out, her voice breaking through the other sounds of the forest, "Starlingpaw! You can come out now."

The bushes rustled, and another she-cat emerged. This one was young, but nearly the size of her fully-grown companion already. Her pitch-black fur blended in with the falling darkness, and her orange eyes were filled with frustration.

"Explain yourself," said the silver tabby, her tone soft but cold.

"Sorry, Willowpool," Starlingpaw stuttered. "I . . . er . . . just wanted to watch you hunt."

"You wanted to watch me hunt."

"Well, you always want to see me hunt when we're training, but . . . you know I haven't quite gotten it yet. I thought if I watched your hunting crouch . . ."

Willowpool's pupils slid up a centimeter, until they stared vacantly at the space between Starlingpaw's ears. "I've demonstrated everything countless times. No, you're here to ambush me. You were circling around to those bushes . . ." She pointed with her tail. "They're downwind, the perfect place to stage an attack."

Starlingpaw's head drooped. Her mentor had out-smarted her again. "How did you even know all of that?"

Willowpool disregarded her question. "Let's go have a chat with Sootpaw."

Starlingpaw's eyes widened. "Sootpaw?"

"Yes, Sootpaw. That little mischievous tom-cat you have a crush on. I bet he's the one who put you up to this." And with that, Willowpool picked up her mouse, spun around, and started walking back towards their home, the NightClan camp, beckoning with her tail for Starlingpaw to follow.

The black-furred apprentice barely suppressed a wail of misery before following her mentor, paws dragging. Sootpaw will hate me forever, she thought. Apprentices aren't supposed to be out at night, in case MoonClan attacks or something. Now we'll both be in trouble. Why did they make my mentor Willowpool, of all cats? Were they trying to ruin my life?

Starlingpaw had only been made an apprentice a moon prior. She was already a quiet cat, especially around strangers, but her failure to learn hunting coupled with Willowpool's reputation made it tricky for her and her mentor to bond. To Starlingpaw, it felt like there was a giant snow-capped mountain between them, a mountain which Willowpool expected her to climb all on her own.

Her siblings had it easy. Splashpaw and her mentor were already friends. Marshpaw had gotten one of the best warriors in the clan, and trailed after him like a dog on a twoleg leash. And arrogant, perfect-at-everything Cloverpaw complained that his mentor, Smolderfur, wasn't serious enough about training. But at least Smolderfur was friendly.

And then there was Sootpaw, the charming and compassionate tom who Starlingpaw and her sister had fought over practically since birth. Splashpaw was loud and friendly and confident, and after this catastrophe, Starlingpaw didn't know how she could ever become Sootpaw's mate.

Willowpool was aware of her apprentice's concerns, but as she padded slowly through the undergrowth towards camp, she had bigger things to think about. Many of her clanmates thought she was nothing but cold, arrogant, and power-hungry. If she wanted to achieve her life-long dream of being deputy, she would have to prove them wrong.

Willowpool led her apprentice through the thick coniferous trees. A cluster of pine needles brushed her cheek as she ducked under a branch. The forest floor was all peat and moss, with the occasional marshy puddle or pond. Mosquitos and dragonflies hummed and flitted about as the stars in the sky slowly multiplied.

Finally, the two cats arrived at a stream with deep waters and a languid current. Willowpool turned, stroking the glass-like surface with her tail as she followed the direction the water flowed. On the other side of the stream was a near-impenetrable wall of rushes, but Willowpool knew that the stream circled all the way around this oval of land.

It was almost an island, but not quite. A narrow land bridge, just wide enough for two cats to walk side by side, blocked the passage of the stream.

Willowpool led the way into the clan's camp, stepping delicately across the slippery bridge. To her left, the stream turned 90 degrees and flowed downhill and out of sight. To her right was the stream's source, a bubbling spring of clear water where the NightClan cats came to drink.

One of the younger warriors, Rowanblaze, was standing guard. His bushy ginger fur made him stand out as he stood facing the bridge. He bared his teeth at Willowpool as she approached.

Willowpool's eyes widened slightly. She had left camp before darkness had fallen, and hadn't expected Rowanblaze of all cats to be standing guard. She would have to improvise.

What's she doing out this late? Rowanblaze wondered, staring at Willowpool with piercing gray eyes. Scheming against Acornclaw again? Plotting to become the next deputy of the clan? Not on my watch. Then he noticed the mouse dangling from the silver tabby's jaws, and her apprentice standing behind her. His snarl turned to a smug smile.

"Acornclaw's orders were clear, Willowpool. No apprentices out after dark," he said. "And you take Starlingpaw out for a training session? I think I should report this to . . ."

"No one's reporting anything to anyone," Willowpool said smoothly, setting her mouse down in front of the solid ginger tom. "In fact, Rowanblaze, I'm surprised you'd want to tell Acornclaw about this, considering the amount of trouble you'd be in . . ."

"What are you talking about?" Rowanblaze's deep voice was sharp, his tail-tip twitching nervously and the fur on the back of his neck pricking up.

"I found Starlingpaw sneaking around outside of camp while I was hunting," Willowpool said.

Starlingpaw's head drooped even further. She's using me to stay out of trouble with Acornclaw! But Willowpool was telling the truth. Whatever punishment Starlingpaw received from the deputy, she would deserve it.

Willowpool continued. "Starlingpaw must have snuck past you to get out of camp, Rowanblaze. Surprising. She's only an apprentice. An apprentice who can't even stalk a mouse without it hearing."

Starlingpaw and Rowanblaze both flinched.

"Isn't that right, Starlingpaw?" Willowpool asked, turning towards her dark-furred apprentice.

If I lie, I'll get Willowpool in trouble, Starlingpaw thought, narrowing her eyes. But if I tell the truth, Acornclaw will be furious with me. Not to mention my mother . . . She shuddered at the thought of Sparrowclaw finding out about this.

But something in Willowpool's ice blue eyes told her not to lie. So Starlingpaw tentatively followed her instincts. "Er . . . yes, that's right."

Rowanblaze's eyes widened. Conflicted, he glanced between Willowpool and the silent, sleeping camp behind him. I can't tell Acornclaw about this. He's my friend, but he's also the clan deputy. He'll have to discipline me for not paying attention on watch. And I'm the only cat standing between Willowpool and deputyship, if Acornclaw retires. I can't get in trouble, not when every bit of Acornclaw and Dapplestar's favor counts. Thank StarClan it was just Starlingpaw and not a MoonClan patrol.

Willowpool's ear twitched as she guessed what Rowanblaze was thinking. "I was planning to take Starlingpaw right to Acornclaw, but I could deal with her myself instead. I'm sure I can come up with a suitable punishment. What will it be, Rowanblaze, your petty sense of honor, or the deputyship?"

That was the last straw for Rowanblaze. He stepped aside, his fur standing on end and his teeth showing. "Just go," he said, his voice quiet and full of venom. "And leave the mouse."

Willowpool knew she'd pay for this later, but at least she and her apprentice were out of trouble.

She walked to the center of the island, her head held high and Starlingpaw trotting behind her. She could hear Rowanblaze gulping down the prey she had caught, and her ears twitched. She passed the mound of mossy earth on her right that Dapplestar led clan meetings from. Behind it was a dip in the ground, sheltered by the fronds of a willow tree, where Dapplestar and her mate Rushnose were likely sleeping. Opposite the tallhill was the warriors' den, a small clearing surrounded by scraggly bushes and small spruces. Next to it sat the nursery and elders' den, two comfortable nooks full of flowers and starlight.

The medicine cat's den and apprentices' den were at the back of camp. The apprentices' den sat right next to the elders' corner of camp, so they could tend to them at all hours of the day (and night, if necessary). It was small and stony, and the first den to flood in a storm.

In contrast, the medicine cat's den was arguably the most beautiful area of camp. It was nearly as spacious as the warriors' den, with moss-lined nests for Hawkfur and the apprentice he might soon take. There was also a corner for sick or injured cats to stay, as well as a large rock with clefts for storing herbs. A tiny inlet of the stream near the herbs gave Hawkfur a clean water source.

Willowpool entered the apprentices' den and spun around, speaking in a low voice so as not to wake the young cats. "I hope you're pleased with yourself."

"Er . . ."

"You should have told me it was Rowanblaze who was on guard. You nearly sabotaged my chances at being deputy."

Starlingpaw shot her mentor a quick glare, before rapidly correcting her features. "Sorry. And thank you. I thought for a second you were turning me in." For the first time that night, she let her orange eyes meet Willowpool's blue ones.

Willowpool nodded abruptly, one ear twitching almost as though she were uncomfortable at the thanks. Slowly, haltingly, she said "You're not the only she-cat who's been driven crazy by a tom."

Starlingpaw grinned. She thought she might know which tom Willowpool was talking about. "It won't happen again," she said, her eyes hardening with resolve. "No one gets to make my decisions for me."

Starlingpaw thought Willowpool might have smiled, but a split second later, it was gone. "I'm beginning to see why you and your mother have such a hard time getting along."

It was a harsh thing to say, but Willowpool didn't mean it like that. What she's trying to say is that she understands, Starlingpaw realized. Of course she does. If I could choose between Sparrowclaw and Willowpool's parents, I'd take my mother gladly. Starlingpaw smiled tentatively at her mentor. Willowpool is just as bad this as I am. Maybe even worse. That's why she's so cold all the time. She's just shy, and bad at conveying her emotions. "Thanks for understanding," Starlingpaw said.

Willowpool blinked. "Just because I understand doesn't mean you can escape your punishment. Let's go wake Sootpaw."

Starlingpaw almost shrieked, but stopped herself just in time.

The small black tabby and white tom woke with a start, his startled exclamation muffled by Willowpool's tailtip. Then the she-cat swatted his face with the tail. "Your little plan failed, Sootpaw," said Willowpool. Starlingpaw was unprepared for the venom in her mentor's voice, and she could see that the sleepy young tom-cat was as well. "The next time you want to humiliate me, do it yourself. Never use my apprentice again, brother."

Starlingpaw blinked. I always forget those two are siblings, she thought. They're nothing alike. But imagine having Willowpool for an older sister. Poor Sootpaw.

The black and white tom muttered something that only Willowpool could hear and closed his amber eyes without a word.

Then Willowpool slipped out of the apprentices' den and off into the night.

The morning dawned clear and bright for NightClan. Hawkfur watched it all happen from between the two bushes that framed the entrance to the medicine cat's den.

The apprentices woke first, bouncing up and down as usual. Cloverpaw and Sootpaw were in the lead, the two best friends staying side by side as always. Splashpaw tried to keep up with them, jabbering maniacally into Sootpaw's ear. Marshpaw was walking behind them, a small glint of determination in his eye as he prepared for another day of hard training. Starlingpaw brought up the rear, watching her sister with evident jealousy.

Sootpaw is Troutleap and Shadestripe's son. Looks just like his crazy mother, Hawkfur thought, his ears swiveling back and forth. But those four siblings . . . who are their parents again?

A rustle sounded from the warriors' den, and a brown and white tabby she-cat walked out, followed by a black tom. The she-cat stroked her tailtip along the tom's back playfully, and he smiled lovingly at her.

Ah, that's right, Hawkfur thought. How could I forget the kits of my own sister? Well, I suppose I don't see Sparrowclaw all that often anymore. But still, it was all Windflight would talk about for weeks. How her brother and my sister were going to have kits. Said it in that adorable perky voice of hers . . . no, I shouldn't think about that.

Hawkfur watched silently as three young brothers, Rowanblaze, Forestheart, and Smolderfur, approached the apprentices. Rowanblaze walked in front and went right up to his apprentice, Marshpaw, while his brothers talked animatedly behind him.

Smolderfur dashed over to Cloverpaw and began explaining everything they would be doing that day. His excited voice carried across the island to Hawkfur's ears. Cloverpaw rolled his eyes at his kit-like mentor. Meanwhile, Forestheart and Splashpaw were chatting quietly.

Smolderfur and Forestheart left camp together, their apprentices at their sides. Rowanblaze took Marshpaw to train in a different corner of the forest.

It's no wonder that they've been driven apart, Hawkfur mused. Rowanblaze has a family now. And he's vying to become clan deputy. But Forestheart and Smolderfur still act so young.

A memory flashed over Hawkfur's eyes. A beautiful brown tabby she-cat, her green eyes so calm and so kind, blood soaking her pelt and Hawkfur powerless to save her. And Sparrowclaw's wail as the life bled out of their mother's body.

"You're remembering again." The voice shoot Hawkfur out of his thoughts. He whipped his head around and snarled at the brown and pale ginger tabby she-cat who stood beside him.

Softly, Hawkfur said, "You startled me, Larkstep."

"Sorry, brother." The word came to her tongue naturally, reminiscent of days long past. Days when three brown tabby kits had played outside the nursery. To Larkstep, he had never been Hawkkit, just "brother."

"Don't think about it," she continued. Her green eyes were heavy with loss.

"You don't think about it enough," Hawkfur said quietly. "You have to relive it, over and over. That's the only way you can forgive yourself."

Larkstep shook her head, as if to clear it. "You never make any sense."

The two sat in silence for a moment. Then Larkstep said, "Sparrowclaw's kits have grown."

"Yes. We've paid less and less attention."

"Stop that. You always do that. Suck all the cheer from a conversation. Stop."

"It's the truth."

Silence again.

Larkstep felt bitterness and shame well up inside her. Sparrowclaw just had to ruin everything. Mother's death wasn't my fault. I was just trying to take care of the clan. It wasn't my fault. Not my fault that Mother was Sparrowclaw's only friend. Well, Sparrowclaw has friends now, and a mate, and kits. I'm the one who's alone. All because she blamed me.

Hawkfur's thoughts echoed his sister's. If Sparrowclaw hadn't blamed Larkstep, Larkstep might not have blamed herself. Might not still blame herself.

"See you, brother," Larkstep said, trotting across the clearing towards her best (and only) friend, Heatherlight. The two she-cats headed across the bridge and into clan territory, likely for some early morning hunting.

The rest of the clan had emerged from their dens. Willowpool and Starlingpaw had gone out to train, as well as Rainpool and Sootpaw. Rainpool's brother Rushnose was lying side by side with his mate Dapplestar on the tallhill, sharing tongues. Sedgefur, Troutleap, and Birchflower had joined Sparrowclaw, and the four of them sat outside the nursery, chatting, as Birchflower's three kits played at their paws.

Badgerpelt, Birchflower's mate and a senior warrior, was watching the kits with pride from his patch of sunlight. He and Acornclaw were sitting together by the camp's entrance, Acornclaw's new mate Shadestripe beside them. Her belly was heavy with the kits she carried, and Hawkfur reminded himself to check up on her later, even though being around the older queen was a distasteful prospect.

Rumors about Shadestripe had been circulating the camp for moons, ever since she and Troutleap split up. "Did you hear, Shadestripe won't even talk to her own kits anymore?" "Did you hear how she's scared of everything now?" "Oh, that batty old she-cat isn't fit to be a mother. Why is she having more kits, anyway?" Hawkfur had done his best to tune out the noise.

Hawkfur also saw Mountainstorm and Silkripple sitting near the edge of camp, as though trying to go unnoticed. Acornclaw and his friends kept shooting them dirty glances. Silkripple was the newest warrior, a sweet little she-cat whose compassion far surpassed her intelligence, in Hawkfur's opinion. As he watched, she stood and quietly slipped out of camp. Mountainstorm stared at the ground dejectedly.

Mountainstorm was a former rogue. NightClan had often accepted rogues as warriors back when Hawkfur was growing up, but since the war with MoonClan had started, many cats were paranoid. Acornclaw, the deputy of the clan, was especially biased towards outsiders, spreading rumors that they were MoonClan spies. Mountainstorm had had a hard time fitting in.

Speaking of outsiders . . . Hawkfur let his gaze slide over towards the nursery again. The young queen Honeytail, Rowanblaze's mate, had emerged with her three kits. One, little Adderkit, looked just like his mother. But the two she-kits were different.

Willowpool had found them on the MoonClan border several weeks prior. They reeked of the enemy clan, but they were starving and needed to be cared for. Honeytail had only just given birth to a single tom-kit, and she had milk enough to feed them.

When a patrol had taken them back to MoonClan a day later, there had been fear that none of the cats would return. The enmity between the clans was so deep that even peaceful, warrior-code-sanctioned ventures into the other clan's territory could be met with violence. But the patrol had returned safely, and they still had the kits with them. None of the MoonClan queens had claimed them. They were NightClan's now.

Honeytail had accepted the kits without question, but many cats, including Acornclaw, treated them with open hostility. Even Honeytail's mate, Rowanblaze, had had trouble adopting the two she-kits as his own.

Hawkfur closed his eyes and looked down, trying to clear his thoughts. When he opened them again, two bright amber eyes were staring into his own.

He stepped back, startled. A wiry black and white she-cat stood in front of him, grinning at his reaction, a laugh halfway out of her mouth.

It was Windflight. Hawkfur's brain was immediately scrambled. He couldn't think of anything to say or do. He just stared as she laughed at him, and his mind inevitably flashed back to the day all his troubles began.

It was back when he was just a medicine cat apprentice, and she had recently become a warrior. One day, she had decided to help him gather herbs out in the forest. They had become friends, and soon, almost more than that.

Ever since then, she had come every day to the medicine den. Helped him sort his herb collection. Talk for hours on end.

Hawkfur didn't like the sound of voices. But Windflight's was the exception.

StarClan has forbidden me from having a mate and kits, Hawkfur thought. But they never said anything about a crush.

On the other side of the territory, the young warrior Silkripple stared into the wide blue eyes of Swifttail of MoonClan and had much the same thought.

So, what did you think of the very first chapter? Do you want me to write more? Have a suggestion? Please comment!