~Chapter 1, finally. Please excuse my sporadic updating. I write when ever I can. Sorry about the length. Other wise, enjoy this chapter~

It was very dark. Rusty could sense something was near. The young tomcat's eyes opened wide as he scanned the dense undergrowth. This place was unfamiliar, but the strange scents drew him onward, deeper into the shadows. His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger. He opened his jaws slightly to let the warm smells of the forest reach the scent glands on the roof of his mouth. Musty odors of leaf mold mingled with the tempting aroma of a small furry creature.

Suddenly a flash of gray raced past him. Rusty stopped still, listening. It was hiding in the leaves less then two tail lengths away. Rusty knew it was a mouse-he could feel the rapid pulsing of a tiny heart deep within his ear fur. He swallowed, stifling his rumbling stomach. Soon his hunger would be satisfied.

Slowly he lowered his body into position, crouching for the attack. He was downwind of the mouse. He knew it was not aware of him. With one final check on his prey's position, Rusty pushed back hard on his haunches and sprang, kicking up leaves on the forest floor as he rose.

The mouse dived for cover, heading toward a hole in the ground. But Rusty was already on top of it. He scooped it into the air, hooking the helpless creature with his thorn sharp claws, flinging it up in a high arc onto the leaf-covered ground. The mouse landed dazed, but alive. It tried to run, but Rusty snatched it up again. He tossed the mouse once more, this time a little farther away. The mouse managed to scramble a few paces before Rusty caught up with it.

Suddenly a noise roared nearby. Rusty looked around, and as he did so, the mouse was able to pull away from his claws. When Rusty turned back he saw it dart into the darkness among the tangled roots of a tree.

Angry, Rusty gave up the hunt. He spun around, his green eyes glaring, intent on searching out the noise that had cost him his kill. The sound rattled on, becoming more familiar.

Rusty blinked open his eyes.

The forest had disappeared. He was inside a hot and airless kitchen, curled in his bed. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows on the smooth, hard floor. The noise had been the rattle of hard, dried pellets of food as they were tipped into his dish. Rusty had been dreaming.

Lifting his head, he rested his chin on the side of his bed. His collar rubbed uncomfortably around his neck. In his dream he had felt fresh air ruffling the soft fur where the collar usually pinched. Rusty rolled onto his back, savoring the dream for a few moments more . He could still smell mouse. It was the third time since full moon that he'd had the dream, and every time the mouse had escaped his grasp.

He licked his lips. From his bed he could smell the bland odor of his food. His owners always refilled his dish before they went to bed. The dusty smell chased away the warm scents of his dream. But the hunger rumbled on in his stomach, so Rusty stretched the sleep out of his limbs, and padded across the kitchen floor to his dinner. The food felt dry and tasteless on his tongue. Rusty reluctantly swallowed one more mouthful. Then he turned away from the food dish and pushed his way out the cat flap, hoping that the smell of the garden would bring back the feelings from his dream.

Outside, the moon was bright. It was raining lightly. Rusty stalked down the tidy garden, following the starlit gravel path, feeling the stones cold and sharp beneath his paws. He made his dirt beneath a large bush with glossy green leaves and heavy purple flowers. Their sickly sweet scent cloyed the damp air around him, and he curled his lip to drive the scent from his nostrils.

Afterward, Rusty settled down on the top of one of the posts in the fence that marked the limits of his garden. It was a favorite spot of his, as he could see right into neighboring gardens as well as into the dense green forest on the other side of the garden fence.

The rain had stopped. Behind him, the close-cropped lawn was bathed in moonlight, but beyond his fence the woods were full of shadows. Rusty stretched his head forward to take a sniff of the damp air. His skin was warm and dry under his thick coat, but he could feel the weight of the rain drops that sparkled on his ginger fur.

He heard his owners giving him one last call from the back door. If he went to them now, they would great him with gentle words and caresses and welcome him onto their bed, where he would curl, purring, warm in the crook of a bent knee.

But this time Rusty ignored his owners' voices and turned his gaze back to the forest. The crisp smell of the woods had grown fresher after the rain.

Suddenly the fur on his spine prickled. Was something moving out there? Was something watching him? Rusty stared ahead, but it was impossible to see or smell anything in the dark, tree-scented air. He lifted his chin boldly, stood up ,m and stretched, one paw gripping each corner of the fencepost as he straightened his legs and arched his back. He closed his eyes and breather in the smell of the woods once more. It seemed to promise him something, tempting him onward into the whispering shadows. Tensing his muscles, he crouched for a moment. Then he leaped lightly down into the rough grass on the other side of the garden fence. As he landed, the bell on his collar rang out through the still night air.

"Where are you off to, Rusty?" meowed a familiar voice behind him.

Rusty looked up. A young black-and -white cat was balancing ungracefully on the fence.

"hello, Smudge, " Rusty replied.

"you're not going to go into the woods, are you?"

Smudge's amber eyes were huge.

"Just for a look, " Rusty promised, shifting uncomfortably, "you wouldn't get me in there. It's dangerous!" Smudge wrinkled his black nose with distaste. "Henry said he went into the woods once." The cat lifted his head and gestured with his nose over the rows of fences toward the garden where Henry lived.

"That fat old tabby never went into the woods!" Rusty scoffed. "He's hardly been beyond his own garden since his trip to the vet. All he wants to do is eat and sleep."

"No, really. He caught a robin there!" Smudge insisted.

"Well, if he did, then it was before the vet. Now he complains about birds because they disturb his dozing."

"Well, anyway, Smudge went on, ignoring the scorn in Rusty's mew, "Henry told me there are all sorts of dangerous animals out there. Huge wildcats who eat live rabbits for breakfast and sharpen their claws on old bones!"

"I'm only going for a look around," Rusty meowed. "I won't stay long."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you!" purred Smudge. The black-and-white cat turned and plunged off the fence back down into his own garden.

Rusty sat down in the coarse grass beyond the garden fence. He gave his shoulder a nervous lick and wondered how much of Smudge's gossip was true.

Suddenly the movement of a tiny creature caught his eye. He watched it scuttle under some brambles.

Instinct made him drop into a low crouch. With one slow paw after another he drew his body forward through the undergrowth. Ears pricked, nostrils flared, eyes unblinking, he moved toward the animal. He could see it clearly now, sitting up among the barbed branches, nibbling on a large seed held between its paws. It was a mouse.

Rusty rocked his haunches from side to side, preparing to leap. He held his breath in case his bell rang again. Excitement coursed through him, making his heart pound. This was even better than his dreams! Then a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves made him jump. His bell jangled treacherously and the mouse darted away into the thickest tangle of the bramble bush.

Rusty stood very still and looked around. He could see the white tip of a red bushy tail trailing through a clump of tall ferns up ahead. He smelled a strong strange scent, definitely a meat-eater, but neither cat nor dog. Distracted, Rusty forgot about the mouse and watched the red tail curiously. He wanted a better look.

All of Rusty's senses strained ahead as he prowled forward. Then he detected another noise. It came from behind, but sounded muted and distant. He swiveled his ears backward to hear it better. Pawsteps? He wondered, but he kept his eyes fixed on the strange red fur up ahead, and continued to creep onward. It was only when the faint rustling behind him became a loud and fast-approaching leaf-crackle that Rusty realized he was in danger.

The creature hit him like an explosion and Rusty was thrown sideways into a clump of nettles. Twisting and yowling, he tried to throw off the attacker that had fastened itself to his back. It was gripping him with incredible sharp claws. Rusty could feel spiked teeth pricking at his neck. He writhed ans squirmed from whisker to tail, but he couldn't free himself. For a second he felt helpless; then he froze. Thinking fast, he flipped over onto his back. He knew instinctively how dangerous it was to expose his soft belly, but it was his only chance.

He was lucky- the ploy seemed to work. He heard a "hhuuffff" beneath him as the breath was knocked out of his attacker. Thrashing fiercely, Rusty manged to wiggle free. Without looking back he sprinted toward his home.

Behind him, a rush of pawsteps told him his attacker was giving chase. Even though the pain from the his scratches stung beneath his fur, Rusty decided he would rather turn and fight than let himself be jumped on again.

He skidded to a stop, spun around and faced his pursuer. It was another kitten, with a thick coat of shaggy gray fur, strong legs, and a broad face. In a heartbeat, Rusty smelled that it was a tom, and sensed the in the sturdy shoulders underneath th soft coat. Then the kitten crashed into Rusty at full pelt. Taken by surprise by Rusty's turnabout, it fell back in a dazed heap.

The impact knocked the breath out of Rusty, and he staggered. He quickly found his footing and arched his back, puffing out his orange fur, ready to spring on to the other kitten. But his attacker simply sat up and began to lick a forepaw, all signs of aggression gone.

Rusty felt strangely disappointed. Every part of him was tense, ready for battle.

"Hi there, kittypet!" meowed the gray tom cheerily. "You put up quite a fight for a tame kitty!"

Rusty Remained on tiptoe for a second, wondering whether to attack anyway. Then he remembered the strength he had felt in this kitten's paws when he had pinned him to the ground. He dropped on to his pads, loosened his muscles, and let his spine unbend. "And I'll fight yo again if I have to." He growled.

"I'm Graypaw, by the way," the gray kitten went on, ignoring Rusty's threat "I'm training to be a TunderClan warrior."

Rusty remained silent. He didn't understand what this Graywhatsit was meowing about, but he sensed the threat had passed. He hid his confusion by leaning down to lick his ruffled chest.

"Telling our secrets to an outsider Graypaw?" Said a voice lightly as a snow white kitten trotted out of the bushes "Aww, Snowpaw! Don't creep up on me like that!" Graypaw said batting playfully at the young lithe she-cat "I almost jumped out of my fur!" Snowpaw didn't reply, she just gave Rusty a curious sniff "What's a kittypet like you doing out in the woods? Don't you know it's dangerous?" Snowpaw asked, Rusty thought he heard a slight hint mocking in her voice.

"If you two are the most dangerous thing the forest has to offer, then I think I can handle it." Rusty bluffed.

Graypaw looked up at him for a moment, narrowing his big yellow eyes. Snowpaw just blinked her deep violet eyes and twitched her whiskers in disbelievingly "Oh, we're far from the most dangerous." She said "Yeah! If I were even half a warrior, I'd have given an intruder like you some real wounds to think about." Finished Graypaw

Rusty felt a thrill of fear at these ominous words. What did these cats mean by "intruder"?

"Anyway," meowed Graypaw, using his sharp teeth to tug a clump of grass from between his claws while Snowpaw watched him blankly, "I didn't think it was worth hurting you. You're obviously not from one of the other clans." "Other Clans?" Rusty echoed, confused.

Snowpaw let out and impatient hiss and turned her deep violet eyes on him. "You must have heard of the warrior Clans that hunt here! He belongs to ThunderClan, and I'm from WanderClan. The other clans are always trying to steal prey of our territory, especially ShadowClan. They're so fierce that they would have torn you apart with out a second thought!"

Snowpaw stopped to spit angrily so Graypaw continued "They come to take prey that is rightfully ours. It's the job of the ThunderClan warriors to keep them out of our territory."

"WanderClan warriors too!" interjected Snowpaw "WanderClan has no real home or territory, we travel. Or that's what my mum says! And since WanderClan needed a home for a while we're just living with ThunderClan now." When she spoke of WanderClan Snowpaw's Violet eyes lit up excitedly.

Graypaw nodded to other apprentice before continuing with ferocity "When I'm finished training, I'll be so dangerous I'll have the other Clans shaking in they're flea-bitten skins! The won't dare come near us then!"

Rusty narrowed his eyes. These must be two of the wildcats Smudge had warned him about! Living rough in the wood, hunting and fighting each other for every scrap of food. Yet Rusy didn't feel scared. In fact, it was hard not to admire this confident, fluffy gray coated kitten and his big friend. "So you two aren't warriors yet?" he asked.

"Why? Did you think we were?" Purred Snowpaw, whiskers crinkling with silent laughter.. and shook her white head "No, we won't be warriors for ages! You have to train to be a warrior, and kits have to be six moons old to even do that! Mousebrain here and I are out on our first night of training!" she said flicking her tail at Graypaw, who tried to grab it with his claws but missed.

"Why don't you two find your selves an owner with a nice cozy house instead? Life would be much easier," Rusty meowed" There are plenty of housefolk who'd take in kittens like you. All you

do have to do is sit where they can see you and look hungry for a couple of days-"

"And they'd feed me pellets that look like rabbit droppings and soft slop!" Interrupted Graypaw "No way! I can't think of anything worse then being a kittypet! They're just Twoleg toys! Eating fake food and making dirt in boxes of gravel! Only getting outside when there Towlegs let them! That's not life!"

Snowpaw swept her tail around them nodding "This is living" She said with a deep burning passion in her voice "This is how cats should be! Coming and going as they please, living in the comfort of other cats! This is what it means to live!" She eyed Rusty playfully "Have you ever tasted fresh mouse?" She mewed.

"Well, no. But-" Rusty started

"Well then you haven't lived yet! You just wouldn't get it. Cats like us with Clan blood thundering in our veins are born for this." Snowpaw meowed proudly.

Graypaw bounced a little, cutting Snowpaw off. "Kitties born in Twoleg nests can't feel the same way, they aren't born with warrior blood!" he meowed.

Rust remembered the feel of his dream "That's not true!" He meowed indigently.

Graypaw and Snowpaw didn't reply, they both froze. " I smell cats from our Clans." he meowed, Snowpaw flicked her ears in agreement, looking worried.

"You should go, they won't like you hunting in our territory!" Graypaw continued. Worriedly.

Rusty looked around, wondering how the two cats knew any cat was approaching. He didn't smell anything different on the leaf scented breeze. But his fur stood on end at the urgent note in Graypaw's voice and Snowpaw's wide, nodding eyes.

"Quickly! Snowpaw hissed "Run or they'll catch you!"

Rusty readied to spring into the bushes, not know which way was safe to jump.

He was to late. A voice meowed behind him, firm and menacing. "What's going on here?"

Rusty turned to see a large gray she-cat strolling majestically from the undergrowth. She was magnificent. White hairs streaked her muzzle and an ugly scar parted the across her shoulders but her gray coat shown like silver in the moonlight.

"Bluestar!" Graypaw crouched down next to Rusty and narrowed his eyes. Snowpaw did the same. They crouched even lower when two more cats – a handsome golden tabby tom and an absolutely massive black she-cat- padded into the clearing behind the gray cat.

"You shouldn't be so near the Twolegplace, Graypaw!" Growled the golden tabby, narrowing his green eyes.

"I know, Lionheart, I'm sorry." Graypaw looked down at his paws.

The massive black she-cat simply glared down at Snowpaw and meowed quietly "You know better then this Snowpaw."

Snowpaw flinched as if stung by the ice in the she-cat's voice "I'm very sorry Shadowfur" She mewed without looking up from her paws.

Rusty copied the other two kittens and dropped into a low crouch, twitching his ears nervously. These cats had an air of strength he had never seen in any of his garden friends. Maybe Sumdge's warning were true.

"Who is this?" Asked the gray she cat.

Rusty flinched as she turned her gaze on him. Her bright, piercing blue eyes made him feel even more vulnerable.

"He's no threat" Mewed Graypaw quickly "He's not another Clan warrior, just a Twoleg pet from beyond our territories."

Just a Twoleg pet! The words inflamed Rusty, but kept his tongue in his head. The warning look in Bluestar's stare told him that she had seen his anger in his eyes, and he looked away.

"This is Bluestar; she's leader of my Clan!" Graypaw hissed to Rusty under his breath"And Lionheart. He's my mentor, Which means he's training me to be a warrior."

"Thank you for the introduction Graypaw." Meowed Lionheart coolly.

Snowpaw snorted and mewed lowly "Shadowfur is my mentor."

Shadowfur nodded to snowy kitten "Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it." She meowed suppressing a playful purr.

Bluestar was still looking at Rusty. "You fight well for a Twoleg pet." She meowed.

Rusty, Graypaw, and Snowpaw exchanged confused glances. How could she know?

"We have been watching you all." Bluestar went on, as if she had read their thoughts. "We wondered how you would deal with an intruder, Graypaw. You attacked him bravely."

Graypaw looked please at Bluestar's unexpected praise.

"Sit up now! All of you!" Bluestar looked at Rusty "You too kittypet." He sat up immediately and held Bluestar's gaze evenly as he addressed him.

"You reacted well to the attack, kittypet. Graypaw is stronger then you, but you used your wits to defend yourself. And you turned to face him when he chased you. I've not seen a kittypet do that before."

Rusty managed to nod his thanks, taken aback by such unexpected praise. But her next words surprised him even more. "I have been wondering how you would preform out here, beyond the Twoleg place. We patrol this border frequently, so I have often seen you sitting on your boundary, staring out into the forest. And now, at last, you have dared to place your paws here." Bluestar stared at Rusty thoughtfully. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the puzzled look on Graypaw's face. And glowing curiosity on Snowpaw's. " You do seem to have natural hunting ability. Sharp eyes. You would have caught that mouse had you not hesitated so long." Bluestar continued. "R-really?" Rusty stammered.

Loinheart spoke now. His deep meow was respectful but insistent. "Bluestar, this is a kittypet. He shouldn't be hunting in ThunderClan territory. Send him home to his Twolegs!" Shadowfur, standing next to Loinheart, nodded in agreement. "He's a Twoleg's kit. Encouraging him to hunt here won't do any of us any good." she meowed.

Rusty prickled at Loinheart and Shadowfur's dismissive words. "Send me home?" He mewed impatiently. Bluestar's words had made him glow with pride. She had noticed him, been impressed by him. "I've only come here to hunt a mouse or two. I'm sure there's enough to go around." Bluestar. Who had turned her head to reply to the two warriors now snapped her gaze back to Rusty. Her blue eyes were blazing with icy anger. "There's never enough to go around." She spat. "If you didn't live such a soft overfed life you would know that!"

Rusty was confused by Bluestar's sudden rage. Even Loinheart and Shadowfur were now prickled with rage. But one glance at the horrified look on Graypaw's face and the angry glare Snowpaw was directing at him was enough to let him know he'd spoken too freely. Loinheart stepped to his leader's side. And Shadowfur drifted behind him. Fur standing on end and green eyes blazing. The warriors now loomed over Rusty. He looked into Bluestar's threatening stare and his pride dissolved. These were no cozy fireside cats he was dealing with – they were mean, hungry cats who were probably going to finish what Graypaw started.

~This will get more different form the real story as it goes...~