Russetfur… what a beautiful name.

I stood there, the cunning cats of ShadowClan milling around me. Well, at least it felt like it.

In reality, some were hissing crude remarks of how I was not fully ShadowClan. Nutwhisker hurled a stray curse at the honor of the crowning of my name. Finchflight mumbled a dark, negative comment in the distance. I still held her head high, however. Hal was in my past. The image of him had spiraled out of my mind long ago, that was certain. The only cats who support me are ShadowClan's high ranks, a slightly grouchy she-cat named Yellowfang, Featherstorm, and Boulder.

Boulder's silvery fur tinged with gray brushed against mine, and he mewed simply, "Russetfur is a name that's quite great. It's the best that Cedarstar could give an outstanding cat like you."

I smiled at his generous comment. He didn't care about my yellowing teeth, even if I was only 13 moons old. Featherstorm grinned bleakly at me in the corner of my eye, but I didn't flinch from it. I kept on gazing at Boulder pleasantly. He's like a brother to me. We've been through a lot now.

Eventually, the cats left. I felt glad that some cats felt a morsel of sympathy for me and shouted my name to the sky. Maybe StarClan was watching over me now… but maybe not.

Russetfur had always been doubtful of StarClan. She knew quite feebly that they were there, but she never gave as much respect to them as the Clan cats. It was something that made her feel cramped up inside. It was so ungraspable. It was impossible to explain to Boulder, who had strong connections to the religions of his Clan.

"Let's go ahead and get some fresh kill, Russetfur. That'd be so fulfilling for my belly right now!" he joked lightly and swept me up with a signal of his slender tail.

I paced across the darkening camp with firm paw steps. The ground, mushy from previous rain, oozed slightly under their arrival every time. I trailed behind him until we reached the fresh kill pile. I tenderly selected a squirrel, and Boulder chose the complete opposite - a slimy, plump toad. I giggled when he licked its grimy outer skin and replied, "Mmm! Awfully gross to you, but it just tastes like food to me!"

I leaned in for a tasty bite of the prey when the sloshing and playful screeches of Blackfoot and Ashheart stopped me. A splatter of mud hit my cheek, and I suddenly felt my fur grow hot. Ashheart kept carrying on and dashing ahead, but Blackfoot came to a complete halt beside me. Boulder's head cocked to one side. It was apparently the mostly white warrior's fault.

"I'm really sorry, Russetp-fur. It's just that, well…" he trailed off.

It was uncomfortable to me that a warrior, two moons older than me, was apologizing for a bit of mud. It seemed strangely out of character. I swept my tail, trying to goofily intimidate him. "Well then, Blackfoot, this is all your problem!" I hissed, flicking my whiskers, "And now you're going to have to clean and groom the elders for two seasons!"

Blackfoot stared blankly back, until he understood the joke. "Ha, Russetfur. I just wanted you to know I really didn't mean it."

His eyes darkened, the black pupils settling on his huge black paws. His tail curled up against his back. Then, momentarily, he looked up at me. My eyes, soft green, met guilty, glistening gold. Out of no where Ashheart came tumbling back.

"Hey Blackfoot! Bet'cha can't figure out where I hid that moss!" she meowed loudly. She nudged him away from where Boulder and I sat, forcing him away.

I scrappily finished my squirrel and stood up a while later. Now the stars, the ancestors of all four Clans, were gathering high up. Boulder had already finished his meal and left with a sincere goodbye. He had probably already fallen asleep in his nest anyways. I thought back to how Blackfoot looked at me for that split second.

No, I glared at the dark, puddle dotted ground. He's totally in love with Ashheart. Because he's stupid. And he can go ahead and like me. I don't care.

I grumbled and left my eating place. I scowled when I heard Ashheart laughing violently and cuffing Blackfoot over the ear. I instantly ducked away into the warriors den, and found that Boulder had actually set aside some time for me and made me a nest. I prodded it with heavy paws and curled up in a daze of dreams.

I was watching an enormous, orientally patterned brown tabby gripping the ground. It changed to a scrawny black tom, and then to… what was it? It was blurry and undefined. I squinted my almond shaped eyes and made out another brown tabby. The cats were coming and going so fast that it was hard to make out anything, but then, to her amazement, Blackfoot. He was watching over ShadowClan.

I looked at the cats around me. They were all sad, depressed, cold and bitter. They moaned all around me. Why are they so upset? I noticed a black tom sulkily grooming his matted pelt.

"Hey, what's the matter?" I tried to get some information from him. Instead, he continued cleaning.

I continued to ask ShadowClan what had happened, why they were all so unhappy. But the same result came every single time - nothing. I gave up and started to leave the camp.

Blackfoot interrupted me, however. I swirled around, confused that he was the only audible, speaking cat here. "What!" I screeched back, letting my grumpiness unknowingly get the best of me.

"I want you to be my deputy." he mewed back blankly, his throat oddly raspy yet cool at the same time.

What's going on? This is so unrealistic! I scrambled away from him. He stared back emotionlessly. I kept running 'till the entire camp was out of sight.

Yeah okay. Let's get real.

This is my first story on the site. It's choppy. It's short. It's rushed.

You get the point. However, I know this is not even close to the standards of most of my stories. This is somewhat close to a test.

However, I promise the plot will deepen, the characters will become more round and engaged, and overall the story will get tons better.

So don't forget to review! - Pathy