The dark tabby hovered over the sleeping ThunderClan cats, his shadowy darkness billowing over their blissfully ignorant heads. ThunderClan, bah. The Clan of his traitorous brother, Brambleclaw. But it would be no matter, for if Hawkfrost could pick the right cat, add the right recruit to the ranks of the Dark Forest, then they would be one step closer to destroying all the Clans.

But which one?

Apprentices are weak, vulnerable, he thought. An apprentice would be a good pick. He jettisoned into the apprentices' den, hovering over the sleeping forms of the young cats. Two mollies slept side by side, their chests rising and falling at the same rate. Sisters. How cute, Hawkfrost thought disdainfully.

The gray and white molly exhaled roughly, her pink nose twisted in frustration - no, hatred, delicious hatred - and a light snarl pealed from her lips. Hawkfrost's ethereal lips curled in a wicked smile. Perfect. This one is perfect.

Hawkfrost drifted down, melting with the molly's body and pushing himself into her dreaming state. Carefully, he constructed a dark forest around her, killing the trees and blackening the sky until only the light of a putrid, green lichen provided light to see.

The gray and white molly looked distraught, pulling her ears back and hissing at open air. "Dovepaw!" she called out. "Dovepaw, stop hiding! This isn't funny anymore, I don't like this game! I'm telling Whitewing!"

Hawkfrost let his body become corporeal, the only indicator of his shadowy form his too-black tabby stripes. He smoothed out the white fur on his chest and casually strode up to the young cat. "Tut, tut," he chided with a grin. "Still playing little kit games? Aren't you a little old for that?"

The gray and white cat turned, and Hawkfrost froze. Her eyes were blue, bright blue, ice blue. Just like his. Never before had he seen a cat with eyes just like his. Yes, he thought, smiling in a way that made the molly shrink. Yes, she's mine. We are the same.

"I-I'm just practicing my tracking skills!" she sputtered. "Go away!"

"Now, dear, you shouldn't speak to your elders that way." He puffed out his chest. "My name is Hawkfrost. What is your name?"

"I-I'm Ivypaw. Are you a StarClan warrior? I've never heard of you before," Ivypaw added, squinting as if she looked hard enough, she might recognize him.

"Of a sort," he lied. "Tell me, Ivypaw. Do you hate?"

Shock and confusion flooded her features, and Hawkfrost stepped closer in her vulnerability. "Do I… What? Of course not! Warriors don't…"

"Oh, I think you do." He flicked his ears. "You see, Ivypaw, I'm on a special mission. I'm looking for a special cat, a unique cat, one capable of doing great things in this world. But they must have hate in their heart. Now, not unbridled hate, no. I mean cultivated hate, I mean hate that grows like a medicine cat's herbs. Careful, slow, cleverly hidden away 'til you need it most."

"Why would you need that? And why are you asking me?" A scowl crossed her pretty features. "Dovepaw's the special one. Go fuss over her like everyone else."

Yes! Hawkfrost tried to conceal his glee. A weakness, her jealousy, her sweet hate! She was the one!

"My dear Ivypaw," he purred, "that is precisely why I sought you out."

Ivypaw's white jaw dropped. "Are… You're joking. You're tricking me."

"Me? Trick? Lie?" He touched his chest with his left forepaw. "You insult my honor." When she didn't respond, he twitched his whiskers. "Ah, so you're clever, too. Perfect. You truly are the special cat I need."

Ivypaw's mouth twitched with disbelief, but Hawkfrost could see in her eyes that she was beginning to believe, beginning to hope. Hope that maybe she was special, that she was chosen, needed, picked over everyone else. Perfect. She would leap into his paws like a duped mouse.

"What do you need me for?"

Hawkfrost chuckled. Hooked, she was absolutely hooked. "I need to train an apprentice. I will show you how to fight, how to hunt, how to be. I will make you into the very best warrior this forest has ever seen." He sat on his hindlegs and gestured widely with his forepaws. "And when you are ready, every tree in this forest will be yours, just as every tree in your forest will be yours. You will have glory, fame, stories. Your warrior name will be as famous as TigerClan, LionClan, and LeopardClan. Queens will name their kits in your honor and yours alone, Ivypaw." He sat back on all fours, staring her in the face. "And that's only part of it. But I need you to prove your loyalty to me for you to be taught more about the mission, about what your training is for."

Ivypaw's eyes were wide as the full moon. "Glory… Mine? Just mine? Not Dovepaw's?"

"Just yours, my sweet. Train with me, and you will surpass her in every way. They'll all see how special you really are."

Ivypaw still looked somewhat unconvinced, and she kneaded her claws in the black, muddy earth. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Because my mission is failed without you," he replied. "No cat will be as good as you."

Ivypaw nodded, looked at her paws. Hawkfrost could see the weight of her choices shifting from foot to foot. She knew it was risky, but the promise of glory, fame, honor. A chance to be remembered as who she was, not just as the sister of someone else. Precious.

"All right," Ivypaw mewed. "I've made up my mind." She looked up at Hawkfrost. "I want to train with you."

Hawkfrost flashed his pointy, white fangs in a devilishly gleeful grin. "Perfect," he said, and he held out his forepaw. Ivypaw reached foreward, and though a last moment of hesitancy jerked her paw back, she brushed it off and followed through, placing her pink pad on his black one.

"Our training begins tomorrow night," he told her. "For now, get some rest. And remember this: You cannot tell anyone about this. This must be kept an absolute secret, you understand?"

Ivypaw nodded. "Yes, Hawkfrost."

"Good girl." He touched his nose between her eyes. "Good night, little tadpole."