Heeeeey!

So remember that one time when I said I wasn't going to write another Warriors fanfiction?

Yeah...that lasted a long time. XD

So here's the dilly. Me and Fwirl (it's just Fwirl), are writing kind of matching Warriors fics to practice our characters before Camp NaNoWriMo in a couple months, so we're writing these novellas. It's a side-project, as I mostly am going to focus on Float, but I'll still have regular updates. In fact, I will be updating every Sunday to make sure they say regular. SO THERE.

Anyhoo. This is set in old ShadowClan. Like, the old forest. Raggedstar's ShadowClan. I had to go through and check to see who would still be alive, and who was related to who, and who was the deputy and BLAH. So much research. So here's the product.

His name was Cranepaw. And he had a very sad story.

"Cowards die many times before their deaths.
The valiant never taste of death but once."

Julius Caesar, Act 2, Scene 2

The wind coming off the lake was bright and sharp today as it mixed with the pine needles. The old she-cat yawned, stretching her bones atop an old dried log, her dull fur soaking in the sun. She closed her eyes and just breathed, inhaling prey and cat and dark earth smells.

It was much different than in her kithood, this ShadowClan. The lake was new, foreign and an entirely unknown entity, but it had grown on her over the many seasons. She could feel the stars sprinkling across those waters, even in the daytime. So beautiful.

She often came to this little hollow, right near ThunderClan territory. She could scent their patrol passing by, but they should stay away. They would know the consequences of trespassing—even in this ShadowClan.

She sighed through her nostrils, just a slight sound. It was melancholy, she thought. Very melancholy. The past spread out behind her, golden and dusty like bright-headed flowers heavy with pollen. Forgotten and lost treasures. But she clung to the most important ones. That was all she asked of her elderliness.

"He-e-ey!" The word was drawn out into a singsong. "There you are!"

She repressed the desire to roll her eyes as the kits bundled into view, tumbling over themselves. Two of them, dark-pelted and striped, the way ShadowClan cats should be. White cats stuck out too much, but she supposed that wasn't a problem in this new territory. There were trees to hide behind here. There were no such luxuries back in the old forest.

"We were looking for you," one, a dark golden she-cat, piped up.

"Is that so?" the old she-cat asked, purring. "And for what reason?"

"Huntsong said we were being too annoying so she sent us to find you."

Unsurprising, she thought fondly. The queen probably had had enough of her sprightly kits. But aloud, she said, "I'm guessing you're expecting a story, then, Hazelkit?"

Hazelkit's green eyes lit up. "Yes, please! Nightkit, tell her you want a story!"

Her brother, black as his namesake, said shyly, "I'd like to hear a story, please." He was by far the calmer one. His mother wouldn't want to tear her fur out from this one, for sure, the old she-cat thought.

Stretching her old bones until they popped, she asked, "What would you like to hear?"

Hazelkit leaned forward, energy in every line of her body, her green eyes dazzlingly bright. "Battles," she breathed.

"Which?"

"Any! I want to hear about ShadowClan winning! How we're the best, the best Clan in the whole world!" She strutted around, stretching each forepaw out in front of her as she did so, her chest puffed. "I mean, it wouldn't be a lie. Those ThunderClan squirrel-hunters look like nothing next to us! And the fishy RiverClan cats, and those scrawny little WindClan cats—"

Nightkit said, "You shouldn't talk about any other cat being scrawny when the wind can carry you away, Hazelkit."

She shot him a dirty look, pausing in mid-step. "You're not much bigger than me!"

Nightkit ignored her jibe. He was watching the old she-cat, his expression just as interested as his sister's, but he didn't burn as brightly. A calm low flame. Something that would last. Someone who would learn. Hazelkit would have to burn off her energy some more before she could be apprenticed to even the most patient ShadowClan cat.

"Can you tell us something you haven't told us before?" he asked curiously, seeming shy again.

Hazelkit came back. "Something you've never told any cat. A new story," she amended, tail flicking wildly behind her. "We want to be special."

The old she-cat let out a rusty purr, rubbing Hazelkit across the ears with her forepaw. "Why, my dear, you are already very special."

Hazelkit ducked from beneath her paw, her fur riled up. "Don't treat us like kits! We're almost apprentices!"

"Ah," the old she-cat said very seriously. "I forget sometimes. You're getting so big."

Hazelkit puffed out her chest again. Even little Nightkit looked happy.

A new story. Those words hadn't rang in the old she-cat's mind for a long time. What could she tell them that she hadn't told them a thousand times before? All her stories had dried up in her, like a sun-baked puddle.

Behind her closed eyes, a young cat flashed, blinding white light behind him. The sweep of his long tail, the hunched shoulders, the neat ears. He hadn't appeared so strongly to her in a long time.

She opened her eyes, her old heart spluttering in her chest, as if she were young again.

"I have a story for you," she said, surprised that the words came out so quickly.

"A new story?" Hazelkit looked suspicious.

"A new story," she promised, settling more comfortably onto her branch. "An old story, but it will be new to you."

Hazelkit laid down, too, her tiny front paws crossed. Sounding distinctly leaderly, she said, "You can begin."

Nightkit snuggled in close next to his sister, eyes bright against the lake's gleam.

The old she-cat laughed. "It begins a long time ago, back when ShadowClan lived in the old forest. We were feared, respected. No one crossed us that wanted to keep their fur on their backs. Our leaders were cold and cruel, their hearts blackened by hunger and fear.

"That was the ShadowClan of my youth, little ones. And the strongest memories of that time were of a very brave young cat. His name was Cranepaw. This is his story."

Okay, revised short first chapter. The real chapter 1 is right next to this one. XD

This is gonna be a short story, though. Like, 40-50K. A nice simple read.

But I must warn you, it's gonna be angsty. So I hope you like the angst. XD

'Ta!

R&R~

Shadow

(Don't forget to go read Fwirly's fic, too! It's really really good, I promise!)