Welcome to my story! Until I can manage to clear my writer's block for my other stories, this story will be slowly coming along, with a post at least every tow-to-three weeks or so. Read and Review!

-Sundusk

By a lake, on the marshes, in a clearing surrounded by pines and strewn with rocks from a quarry mined by Twolegs in the forest, where the cats, their fur shadowed and scrappy from the long, hard leafbare, sleep in dens in between the low-hanging pine branches and in the shallow areas between the rocks, a large tom, with thick dark orange fur and sleepy green eyes, yawned widely, and closed his eyes, the last of his Clan to fall asleep. In a small den covered in large swathes of pine branches, warm, dark and cozy, and covered in the soft scent of milk that reminds you of the days of kithood, a gray tabby mother lies with her three kits, two golden, the other as black as night. And in a small cave under the smallest rock, where herbs litter the floor
But, up in the stars, somewhere in that wild streak of light, where the cats shine and glitter, all was not well, and no cat could sleep.
"You have no right to impose this upon her!" a gray tabby tom snarled. He stood in front of a group of assembled cats, all of whom had fur that bristled in indignation. A beautiful golden she-cat weaved throughout the group, maybe the only one not in a rage.
"Graystripe, you know what must be done!" she said slowly. "You, who are one of the eldest, yet farthest from Fade."
"Whisperfur," began Graystripe, making an attempt to cool off, but rage still seethed, hot and dangerous, beneath his pelt. "She is a kit. Her parents have yet to realize her destiny-"
"Or her flaws!" spat a mottled brown tabby, his thick fur fluffed up, making him seem far larger. "A fate too strong for words is no fate at all!"
"But you forget her role!" Whisperfur hissed, the beginnings of a snarl on her beautiful face.
"A role that we know nothing of! Shadow couldn't be more cryptic, and River's hiding his face! Thunder rarely leaves his pool, and Wind? Pah!" growled Graystripe.
Suddenly, a small, wiry brown she cat appeared at Graystripe's shoulder. The crowd was hushed. Graystripe slowly turned around to see the snarling, twisted-in-rage face of Wind.
"What does that mean?' she said slowly, dangerously so. "Are you criticizing how we began this Clan? Do you forget my authority!"
Three cats materialized beside her, snarling. Thunder, the orange tabby, growled ferociously. "Our words come from higher than you could ever imagine, kit!" Graystripe shirked back, ears flat against his head.
"Sorry." he muttered.
"Get out! All of you! Firestar, though, and Slipstream, you stay." said River, a sleek gray tom. He nodded to a brilliant ginger tom and a golden she cat, just a few shades lighter than Whisperfur.
Muttering amongst themselves, each StarClan cat left the clearing, Graystripe glowering and Whisperfur with a smug smile on her face.
When the cats all left, Thunder disappeared into the trees. Firestar followed, Slipstream at his heels. River flanked the large tom with Shadow, a smooth, wiry black she cat. Wind came up at the rear, muttering to herself and creasing her brow.
Finally, after a long walk, through rivers and pines, the group emerged in a large clearing surrounded by thick, looming pines.
All was silent.
A large white tom and a skinny, rough-furred she cat stood around a pool.
Firestar came up next to them, and stared down into the deep bluewater.
Shadow leaned in, whimpering. "The poor girl..." she said, trailing off.
She stared down at a sleeping gray queen, with three kits at her belly. One was orange, with thick, stripey fur, his brother yellow, with dark spots. But it was at the night-black she-kit that Shadow directed her attention.
"Yes." Wind agreed quietly. "Too bad, her fate." The small she-cat reached a soft brown paw at the she-kit. Her paw brushed the water, sending ripples through the pool, making the image erase.

But down in ShadowClan's nursery, Nightkit woke up, yellow eyes wide as they slowly turned silver.