Disclaimer: Warrior isn't mine.

Chapter 1

Rook eagerly wove his way through the undergrowth, tail streaming behind him brushing undergrowth occasionally.

Feather laughed as she followed him, "Slow down will you? Running back to the Pride won't bring tomorrow here any faster you know."

Rook paused, the black tom considering his friend's words. "I know. But sleeping always makes the night feel faster. Plus I don't want Buzzard to come looking for us." His lip curled at the thought of the Pride leader.

"We'll have to hide our scent then." Feather meowed slowly. "Tomorrow when we leave. Otherwise you know he'll track you down."

Rook glanced upwards, to the sky. "Hopefully some rain would wash our scent away, but you're right." He considered it. "There's that old fox den, we could hide our scent there."

Feather nodded slowly. "Is that how you always sneak out?"

Rook chuckled and grinned over his shoulder at the pretty tabby. "Maybe…"

Feather caught up to him, and rubbed against his shoulder. "Rook."

"Yes?" he asked softly, glancing over at her light amber eyes.

Feather glanced at him. "Is there another way we could hide our scent?" her ears flattened back, her voice shaking slightly. "You know I hate foxes."

Rook paused, and gently licked her. "Right." A fox had killed Feather's mother, in front of her, when she was a kit, before she joined the Pride. "I… I can't think of any other way." He admitted softly.

Feather looked terrified and he stopped, his green eyes not leaving hers. "Feather, the den is abandoned, and I'll be right beside you every step of the way. Promise. I will protect you."

Feather purred and rubbed against him. "I knew that when you took on Fire to protect me."

Rook growled at the mention of the ginger rogue. "Don't remind me." He shook himself. "Let's go before my dear brother comes looking for us in the hopes I got myself killed."

Feather pressed against him. "Don't be like that Rook. You almost remind me of him when you say things like that."

"I'm nothing like him!" Rook snarled, a wave of hurt and betrayal running through him. He stepped away from her, the sounds of crickets and whippoorwills pressing against his ears. "Am I?"

Feather shook her head. "No Rook, you're not." She stirred the dirt with a paw. "It's just, when you sound so bitter about him; you talk about him the way he talks to you."

Rook glanced down to hide the hurt at her words. "I… we don't get along Feather."

"I know, I was there when you were being trained. Buzzard has never treated you well. Rook…" she trailed off to rub against him. "You are very different from him."

"How do you know?" Rook whispered softly, trying to hide something Feather already knew. His worse fear, being just like Buzzard.

"Because I know which one of you I'm in love with." Feather shoved him. "Buzzard of course, his eyes are so bright and-" Rook tackled her with a laugh, and they rolled across the forest floor a blur of black and gray.

The warm-sun grass bent beneath them, tickling Rook's pads as the tips brushed them. Rook pinned Feather down, tail waving behind him as he smirked. Feather licked him on the cheek and he hopped off her to flop down beside her.

They were silent, letting the crickets and bird song fill the air, Rook looked up at the sky.

Falcon sat on a rock, staring at the sky. "The Clan believed their ancestors were up there watching over them. When they died they would join the ranks. This Clan was StarClan. They spoke to medicine cats and were the reason leader's changed their name to end in star."

Rook looked up. "Does StarClan watch over you?" he asked softly, staring at the sky, wondering what it would be like to take comfort from the distant stars. To see it as full of protectors, not the empty vast he'd imagined it as. When he got no response he turned his head. "Falcon."

The tom had a look of sorrow in his blue eyes, and didn't respond promptly. Rook wondered who Falcon had lost that made him stare at the sky with a mix of hope and dread.

"I don't know anymore Rook." He finally confessed. "I honestly don't know."

Rook made a small noise. "Look at that small star. I wonder if that's a kit." He extended one leg to point it out.

Feather glanced at him. "You like Falcon."

"Falconheart is a cat worthy of looking up to." Rook replied softly. "He earned his place as deputy, he wasn't born for it." His voice was dark. "And he has always judged me for myself. Not my father, not Buzzard and not the unwanted heir of the Pride."

"He thinks highly of you." Feather commented softly. "Did you see him when you did that half-turn belly rake? There was nothing but pride there, he was proud of you."

"Buzzard has pride too." Rook replied just as softly. "But his pride is for only himself." With that he got to his paws. He shook his head. "Come on. Let's get ready for our last night as Pride cats."

"I thought you'd never ask." Feather teased and Rook grinned.

"Race you back?"

Feather got to her paws. "You are eager to go."

Rook narrowed his eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"This is the first time you've raced me to camp." Feather's gentle look turned to a playful one. "But it won't be the first time you lose!"

Rook let out a startled yowl when she tore past him. "Feather!" he charged after, clearing a tree root with ease.

He widened his stride to keep up with the she-cat, and she surged ahead. As they approached a bush, Rook sped up, and shoved off; remembering a trick Falcon had taught him.

Don't look at where you'll land, look at the highest point in your jump.

He missed landing on Feather by a tail-length, and took the lead.

The two skid to a halt in front of camp, laughing as dirt flew up from under their paws. Rook gave Feather a warm look, the loving look she gave him as she laughed was one of the things he loved most about her.

"Ha ha." Rook's fur rose along his back, the warmth in his chest trickling out as a cold frost replaced it. He slowly began to realize he'd thrown dirt on Storm. Buzzard's best friend gave him a dirty look, as he shook the mud off his leg. His blue eyes were cold, before he quickly licked a bit of his white chest.

"Whoops?" Rook meowed, not really sorry at all. He had a scar behind his ear from a training session with Storm and Fang. He hadn't grieved at all when Fang froze to death one snow-fall.

But Storm was still alive and still capable and willing to give him trouble.

Storm glared at both of them, and sneered. "What were you two doing out so late at night?" he asked with false friendliness. Rook curled his lip, to show a fang. "Star gazing."

"Is that so?" Storm meowed mockingly. "Ow!"

A faint ginger shape stood behind him, and Rook felt his hackles lower. Fox.

The ginger tom, so different from Fire or his namesake animal had stepped on Storm's tail.

"Cut it out Storm." Fox commented, sitting down behind the light gray tom. "It's not like you've never come back to camp in the middle of the night."

Storm turned on his friend, and Fox continued, ordering his the same calm, gentle voice. "Let them through, Storm."

The tom moved aside, with a glare at Rook as he passed.

"Buzzard was worried about him was all." Storm meowed sweetly, and Rook rolled his eyes. He could see the brown outline of his brother from outside his den.

"See you in the morning." Feather whispered softly, moving away from Rook, brushing her tail against his flank before she headed for her den. Robin, a brown she-cat, had stuck her head out of the den, and nodded at Feather. Rook glanced at the she-cat, who gave him a friendly look. Robin was the only one of Buzzard's friends that was nice to him. Fox was okay, though the tom tended to just keep Storm away from him. He flicked his tail in greeting, strolling for his den.

A white shape peered out at him as Ice checked on her only friend. The strange she-cat tended to scare others off. Seeing her concerned look, Rook winked at her, and she chuckled softly.

"Rook."

The black tom turned his head, in the faint light he could make out Buzzard's brown fur and yellow eyes. The leader had sat up.

"Yes?" he asked politely, as though he'd love to do nothing more than listen to Buzzard talk.

"Make sure you're home before dark tomorrow." He meowed coldly. Rook held back a shudder, this cat was his older brother.

"I will be." He answered truthfully. He'd found a new home to be at before dark. "I was already planning on it." He added pleasantly, knowing his brother probably didn't care what he said. So long as Rook didn't openly challenge Buzzard the tom mostly left him alone.

The moon light lit up the pelt of the cat behind Buzzard, and Rook knew it was his brother's mate, Dawn. A slight prickle of fear ran down his spine. Dawn had yet to become pregnant, which made him heir to the Pride, not that Storm wouldn't challenge him for leadership if anything happened to Buzzard.

Still, Buzzard would want him gone, when his kits were finally born. Rook wouldn't want to challenge Buzzard's kits for the position of heir, but Buzzard wouldn't care. In the end no matter what, Rook was in trouble. He knew Buzzard would use it as an excuse to drive him out, or possibly kill him. Rook narrowed his eyes in concern, he wouldn't put it past Buzzard to kill him, just to be sure Rook never caused any problems. The prickle was spreading down his ribs, legs, to the tip of his tail. He curled it behind him, to hide the fact his tail had just doubled in size.

He hurried for his den, leaving Buzzard's flat gaze behind him. Too many he times he'd planned to leave and backed out.

StarClan? If you're really out there, I know I was born a rogue but please, I'd like to know you were watching over me too.

XXX

A.N.: Thanks to those who reviewed, favorited and liked my story!