A/N: While this was originally written for the Warriors Challenge Forum, I am now using it to advertise my own forum. Warriors - A Forum to Remember. Please, stop on by! We are friendly and fun and don't judge!


Once upon a time, there was a young she-cat who was known all through out the land for her beauty. They say that the stars danced in her pelt and the sun in her eyes. That when she spoke, it was birdsong which left her maw, and when she moved it was with the grace of a doe in new leaf.

Her name was Silversong, and she was the daughter of the leader and the deputy. The pride of PineClan, for she had talked their way out of many a battle before. They loved and adored her yet still, she was lonely for they were only concerned about her well being due to her looks.

Silversong was not loved for who she was, inside.

Many a dawn was spent watching the sun, because out of everything in the world, it was her only friend. The sun never judged her for speaking out of turn, for wanting to learn how to fight, for wanting to protect her Clan. Instead, it shined down on her with all the warmth that Silversong had never known from her mother and with all the pride that her father had never shown.

And when the other members of her Clan awoke, then the young she-cat was ushered off to her normal duties. She sat in the Elder's Den and told tales to the aged cats inside, because her imagination was almost as great as her beauty.

The elder's loved her for it, but it was not enough.

So Silversong allowed herself to be swept away to the nursury, where she would spend some time playing with her kits. They adored to chase and bat at her sweeping tail, which moved like a mouse through the underbrush. And oh, did they love to hear her talk. About anything and everything and so she told them stories, too.

The kit's loved her for it, but it was not enough.

When the sun was beginning to set, a warrior would come in for Silversong. They would led her away from the camp and out to the border shared with OakClan - where she would sit until the moon was high in the sky, talking to the empty air. It was said that her words alone kept the peace between the two Clans.

The other cats loved her for it, but it was not enough.

It was at this border one night, that Silversong met a tom. His fur was black as the night sky with eyes that shined with all the ice of leaf-bare, and her words did not sway him from crossing into her territory.

"Who are you?" asked Silversong, pushing herself to her feet.

"My name is none of your concern." answered the tom, sitting down in front of her. He wrapped his tail about his paws and cocked his head to the side. "Tell me, she-cat. Dusk after dusk, you sit here and speak. But there is no cat around. Who is it that you speak so sweetly too?"

Surprised, Silversong found herself answering the strangers question. "Why, to OakClan, of course. It is only my words that keep them from attacking my camp."

"Your words?" laughed the tom, eyes crinkling. "That is hardly the truth! My Clan leaves yours be simply because we pity them! If their only defense is a she-cat's silver tongue...then there is no point in waging a battle that would not be even a challenge!"

That surprised Silversong, for she had always been told that her Clan was strong and she alone kept the peace. "Is it that the truth? Then tell me, tom, do you come from OakClan?"

"I do, and my name is Blackfrost." answered the tom, and he still sounded so very amused. "Tell me, why do you never come to the Gatherings with your Clan? I have not seen you before."

"It would be improper for me to go to a Gathering, says father. He leaves me home, to watch the elders and the kits and the queens." answered Silversong, for she had never been tuaght to be subtle. To tell bare truths or think before she spoke. Her words were loved in her Clan, after all, and she had always been praised for speaking.

Eyes narrowing slightly, Blackfrost tilted his head, ears pricked foreward as though he was listening for a mouse. "Are you the only one left aside from those cats?"

"Yes," answered Silversong, and she was grateful to have a conversation with someone outside of her Clan for once. A cat that didn't listen to her because they /had/ to listen to her. "Is that not how things are done in your Clan?"

"Hardly, she-cat." said Blackfrost, the tip of his tail flicking. "In OakClan, all of the fighters never leave camp at once. But then, a PineClanner like yourself would know nothing of that. Of protecting their own. I would be better off speaking to the trees, except...That is your job, isn't it?"

And then he was gone, slipping back into the trees and leaving Silversong feeling confused and oddly uneasy. There was a bitter taste in her mouth, as though she had bitten into a rotted mouth, and suddenly talking to OakClan didn't seem all that important. When her fellow warriors came to fetch her later, Silversong had not uttered a word.

For the next three nights, the forest was silent. The prey slipped back into their homes, mice in their nests and rabbits in their warren. No birdsong was heard and the fresh-kill pile in PineClan began to grow smaller and smaller and smaller. The warriors lost weight and the queens lost their luster and the kits never seemed to be quiet.

Yet still, Silversong did not speak. Her mind was a blur of betrayal and wonder, because if she was not needed to keep the peace, then what was her purpose? Did she even have one? Was she needed in the Clan, in the forest, in the world?

Silversong felt small, and she did not speak.

Around her, the Clan grew frail and demanded she talk. But it was not enough, and Silversong did not speak.

Despite this tragic affair, life in the two Clan's went on. OakClan did not bother PineClan and PineClan waited until the moon was full to gather up all of their warriors, leaving the camp and heading to the Gathering.

As always, Silversong was left behind to watch over the elders and the kits and the queens. The camp was silent still though, and the elders hid in their den among the moss. The kits curled up at their mother's side. Silversong, sitting in the middle of the camp and looking up at the moon and the stars because they were her only true friends. They and the sun, who shined so brightly during the day.

Unbeknownst to these cats, these who have never been taught to fight and are unable to do such, PineClan sits at the Gathering Hollow alone for OakClan never showed up.

It was close to dawn when Silversong noticed it. The sudden burst of birdsong outside of her Clan's camp. The way the clouds shifted, covering up the sun - and it was a warning that only Silversong, who had spent so many mornings sitting in that same spot and listening and talking and speaking could read so well.

There was danger coming, and she didn't feel like she would be enough.

No sooner had this thought passed her mind then the forest about her fell silent, so silent, and there were eyes everywhere. OakClan had arrived, but not at the gathering. And it all happened so fast, that even now it is not clear what went on in that fight.

Just that something in Silversong seemed to slip and snap and twist when she spotted Blackfrost, leading the charge into the camp and issueing orders to attack those cats that had always listened to her. Those cats that were her charges, even though she had never been issued orders to protect.

The kits and queens and elders told stories of the battle for many moons afterwards, talking about how Silversong's pelt danced with the stars and her movements were those of a doe in newleaf. How her claws danced through the air and spread blood, red as a yew berry, and her eyes were filled with the same fury as a mother protecting her kit.

Silversong fought and she fought and she fought, and her coat was torn until it was ragged and bloodied. When the rest of PineClan arrived in the clearing, she was still fighting and the elders were hiding and the queens were herding their kits to the back of the camp.

And it was no longer a doe that pranced through their clearing, but a beast straight from the mountains or maybe even straight from Hell.

Together, Silversong and the warriors of PineClan fought off OakClan. But it was only with a very large price paid that they won this battle. By never teaching Silversong to fight, she was unable to dodge most attacks and wounded heavily. Her coat never again grew in, dull as the rocks that lined the hollows, and her face was marred with ragged scars.

Still, her name was Silversong, and she was the daughter of the leader and the deputy. The pride of PineClan, for she had talked their way out of many a battle before and fought like a beast when she couldn't speak. They loved and adored her and, never again, did she feel lonely for the Clan finally saw her for who she was.

Not just a she-cat or a pelt that was pretty, but a warrior, proud and true.