Deep within the forest, a strong gust of wind ruffled the fur of Skitpaw(sound famailar, Grayfrost?), the youngest apprentice, the self-proclaimed best fighter of Riverclan, and normally one of the clan's more zealous cats. As Skitpaw ran through the night her fur, normally an enthusiastic orange, seemed to glow silver in the moonlight as she brushed against bushes and leaped low tree branches, scraping off bark and twigs from her speed.
Tonight was the night where she would make a difference! Tonight was the night when Skitpaw would finally be respected as a brilliant cat, and not scorned simply for being one of Hawkfrost's kits! Her whiskers twitched in annoyance at the thought, but she pushed the discomfort from her mind. Hawkfrost had been driven from the forest, for doing nothing but good for Riverclan! Leopardstar had been weak, and deserved what she got! Hawkfrost had simply analyzed the situation, noticed that Leopardstar wasn't doing all she could to ensure that Riverclan was given enough hunting grounds, and done what was right! And if that stupid apprentice, damppaw, hadn't come in to see Hawkfrost sending her back to Starclan, then Riverclan would have prospered! But she would make sure that Hawkfrost succeeded in his ambition to make
Riverclan great! After all, it would only require a small part from her…
The dream had been extraordinarily simple, coming to her in the middle of stalking a rabbit through Afghanistan. Skitpaws AK-47 had disappeared, and she found herself standing at fourtrees, the rock at its normal, upright position and all four ash trees restored to their former, majestic glory.
Skitpaw had looked about in confusion, wondering where the shell-shocked rabbit had gone, when a deep voice boomed out, "Skitpaw, kin of my kin, I have brought you to fourtrees for a simple reason, a great reason, and an honorable reason." "Who… Who are y-you?" Skitpaw stammered nervously, "I-I'm Riverclan's best fighter, you know!" "I'm sure you are, as I was the same, as my father before me, who isn't mentioned in this story!" the voice boomed out, "You know who I am, Skitpaw, think!" Skitpaw was actually thinking about how much she wished more than anything for her AK-47 back, or even her Jackhammer rocket launcher hidden in the warriors den (they never looked under the wall moss). Skitpaw had now narrowed the voice down to a shadow under the great rock, twitching its tail and pacing back and forth, like a small tiger. Tiger… Tiger! "You're Tigerstar! Stay away from me, I know of your treachery!" Skitpaws voice sounded pathetically squeaky, even to her. The great voice sighed, although there a hint of pride to it as well. Skitpaw was beginning to back away from the rock, her fur on end, claws scratching the dirt. "No, Skitpaw, I did what was right! The forest had to be united under Tigerclan! I was most sad to hear of Bluestar's death, as I had hoped I would not have to be the one to… Remove her. However, to have peace, we must have casualties, and I never planned to take over! That was just Firestar being an idiot as usual!" "No, Skitpaw, I am not evil."
The voice had a hypnotic sound to it, and Skitpaw found her self remembering how many times she had wondered if Leopardstar was really good enough for Riverclan, if there was no one more capable to take the job. "I… I won't help you! You're evil! You're… You're a villain! No! NO!" Skitpaw broke down crying, and Tigerstar finally emerged from the shadow, like a woodchuck being chased out of a swamp by a rabid chimpanzee (if you've never seen that, then it looks kinda like a cat coming out of a shadow). "Here is what you must do, Skitpaw! Go to the moonpool tonight! You shall meet one of my… acquaintances, who had also tried the best, but been rejected by fools! Meet Hawkfrost, Skitpaw, and he will tell you what to do!" Skitpaw tried to run away, but the dirt quickly turned to sand, burrowing its way into her claws and fur. "No! I won't help you! Go away!" Skitpaw tried to splutter through a mouthful of sand. "Okay, sheesh, get a grip. I'll find someone else for the dawn patrol, just calm down!" Skitpaw awoke to find the Jackhammer rocket launcher pressing uncomfortably into her back, and Bushfur retreating out of the apprentices' mossy den.
Skitpaw didn't think it was possible to be embarrassed, scared, uncomfortable and disturbed all at the same time, but she did a pretty good job of it as she pulled herself out of the apprentices' den to the prey stump. The rest of Riverclan was already up and about, sharing tongues and laughing to each other, occasionally glancing at Skitpaw.
Skitpaw felt herself turn red with embarrassment, with was pretty tough to do if you had fur, and the fur was orange to begin with. Skitpaw walked over to her friend dashpaw, who was staring at the wall, and occasionally jumping up to bang his head into it.
"Um, dashpaw, what are you doing?" Skitpaw asked, as Dashpaw ricocheted so hard that she flew right by Skitpaw. "Um… Learning!" Dashpaw said cheerfully as he flew at the wall again. "Learning… That a wall hurts if you run into it! Wetfur suggested it!" "Yeah, I think you've learned it by now," Skitpaw mewed, thinking irritably of Wetfur's mean streak. "Why don't we lick each other and talk about what's going on with the clan." Dashpaw stopped his wall-running-into for a moment to give Skitpaw an slightly disturbed look, before resuming. The look was slightly disturbed mainly because one of Dashpaw's eyes was the wrong way. "That doesn't sound very hygienic, Skitpaw. Can't we do something else, like… compare cell phones!" Dashpaw quickly ran inside the apprentices' den to emerge with his cell phone dragging behind him in the dirt. "Wha- get that out of the story, Dashpaw! We don't have phones, we're cats! Besides, Verizon has really crappy call quality, you should know better!" Dashpaw rolled his eyes to the sky, well, one of them anyway, and the cell phone vanished. "Sheesh, you're just upset because you're too sandy to use it! You'd mess up the screen!"
Dashpaw then trotted daintily away, somehow ruining the indignant retreat by tripping over his piece of fresh-kill.