A/N: I'm back! And I have a new story. If you, erm, didn't notice, Aspenstar's Regret and probably Mossystar's

Sniffing the crisp night air, she sighs, dragging a hurt, twisted paw behind her tired body. Keeping to the tall oak trees, she listens, stopping only to nudge her paw or to rest for a heartbeat. It had been cold for days, and she were growing hungry fast. Spotting a small vole nibbling near some trees, she leaps, only to miss and send it running to it's burrow. Casting her gaze around, she realizes she is lost, and curses her dry throat. Padding along for a while, she nears the steady rush of water, she picks up her pace, skidding to a stop as she sees a long river. Bending down gratefully, she laps the cold water, ears pricked and slowly purring. But it could not last, and as she curled beside it to sleep, an angry voice echoed through the cold winds ruffling her pelt. Smooth but weathered, it told of wisdom. Groggily blinking her eyes, she stands, only to see silver-grey and white cats surrounding her, although some went against the colour scheme. Ears down, she hears them mutter something about trees, and stars, and she glare at each one of them. Well-fed, they had water dripping from their sleek, glossy pelts, and there was wisdom and login in their hard eyes. She hears herself state her name, and they exchange glances. As she watches them close in on she, she let a heavy moan escape her mouth. Coming behind her, they force her forward, pushing her beside the river. Looking at them incredulously, confusion flashes in her eyes. They push her in, keeping her head above water as they glide effortlessly through. Closing her eyes, she feels fear pulse through her body until she reaches land. Scrambling up the bank, she shakes off her pelt and give a half-hearted hiss, turning and seeing a pretty brown she-cat with long fur and green eyes. She tenses as she feel her gaze sweep her body, and hesitates as she see sadness but welcoming in the new cat's starry eyes. She clears her throat.

"My name is Aspenstar. I lead this group of mange-pelts, SwanClan. We are the cats of the river, swimmers and fish-eaters, calm heads filled with logic and cleverness. Currently joined with LarkClan, we are strong and fierce. We were founded by Hope, or Hopestar, a pretty gray-and white she-cat, twenty gatherings ago. you've seen us, I can tell, under the truce of The Cliffs. We despise of kittypets, although I can tell she are not one… We rarely fight others, as no-cat wants the salty waters surrounding our home. You have two choices. We are short of warriors, sheng one, and need fresh blood. You can join us, but if you don't, she'd better watch your back. Less fights make us the strongest of the Clans." She pauses as a pale grey tom-cat steps behind her. Barely glancing around, she groans, and gestures behind her. "That mouse-brain is Coldstar, and he leads LarkClan." She stops, refusing to add more, but Coldstar continues in a deep growl. "Or you could join us. You would be heavily liked, loner, and would earn respect with dark stripes on your body." Aspenstar pushed the tom away. "Choice is yours, cat."

She barely hesitates, before blurting out her choice.

One of the cats turn, disappointment in their gaze.

The other evaporates into the trees ands beckons for her to follow.