Bloodfang held his head high, pure black coat glistening. He had just received his warrior name, Bloodfang. Dewstar looked down to the new warrior. "Welcome to TwilightClan." The cats began to crowd around him, cheering his new name. The dark tom smiled. He finally felt accepted. He had been living as rouge for the beginning of his life, with his sister and mother. When his mother died, they went different ways. Now, he felt fully accepted into his new Clan. He knew the others trusted him fully, even though he was once a rouge.

Later on that night, when he was sitting vigil in the center of the camp alone, his ears twitched forward. Turning his head, he heard a small rustling in the bushes that surrounded camp. Hackles rising, he pulled from his sitting position and padded to the source of the noise.

He ducked into a thorny thicket, then snarled, unsheathing his claws. Before him was a cowering kit, perhaps apprentice age, with the strong scent of kittypet. "What are you doing here, little one?" Bloodfang growled, advancing. The ginger kit cowered, flattening himself as close to the ground as he could. "I-I'm s-s-sorry! I was j-just curious about you C-C-Clan cats!" the kit whimpered, glancing around for a quick getaway exit. There was none.

"Curious?" Bloodfang sneered, extending his long, thick claws. The kits whimpered louder and was shaking now. "Haven't you ever heard that one saying?" The young cat squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry! I'm Sorry! I shouldn't have come, let me go!" he pleaded, tears welling up.

Bloodfang bent down low, evening his eyes with the kit's. "Oh, I'll let you go, don't worry," he said, whiskers twitching a grin. "Just remember this."

He lowered his maw to the kit's ear.

" 'Curiosity killed the kit.' "

Bloodfang slashed out his claws and the kit squeaked for a heartbeat. Something coursed through his veins, and a smile curled up his maw.

What was this feeling?

That strange feeling when he heard the kit yelp? It felt good. He picked the kittypet up in his maw and carried him to the center of camp.

Crystalfur, a white she-cat with yellowish splotches, was eating a late-night piece of fresh-kill, when she saw the dead kit. "StarClan! Bloodfang, what happened?" she yowled. Soon other cats emerged, sleepy, but curious. Dewstar wove up to Bloodfang. "Explain," he said gruffly.

"I caught this kittypet outside of our camp," he snarled, sheathing his claws and tossing the body to Dewstar's paws. The gray leader drew back a few paces, then bent over to examine the body. "A kit?!" he yowled, bewildered.

"A spy nevertheless," the black tom snorted.

"You imbecile!" the TwilightClan leader yowled, leaping at Bloodfang. The new warrior hissed and drew back a few steps. "He was a kit! A KIT! Did we kill you when we first saw you?" Dewstar snarled, hackles rising, shoulders forward was though he was ready to slice Bloodfang's throat. But, the silver leader sighed, and sat back on his haunches. " You get one more chance. You're a warrior now, Bloodfang, so start acting like it." Dewstar shot a glance to a brown tabby elder. "Brokenheart, burry the kit. Clan dismissed!" Dewstar sprang away.

As the TwilightClan cats passed the black tom, they shot hostile looks at him, a few even spat at his paws. "Call yourself a warrior?" a silver queen jeered, lunging at him with a snarl. "I don't want you ANYWHERE near my kits!"

Bloodfang remained where he was, his head hung low, hiding his face. Only he could tell, but his face revealed an evil grin. He liked the feeling of killing. It was novel to him. And StarClan did he like it!

"C'mon, Nightbloom, you're up for midday patrol!"

With a groan, a black she-cat rolled over on her side. She yawned widely, and stretched her white-flecked legs. "Must you be so loud, Lihtanheart?" she mewed, opening her lightning blue eyes slowly.
The creamy white she-cat before her purred. "C'mon, you've been a warrior for a couple sunrises now. You should know the routines by now, Nightbloom."

The black she-cat yawned again, then hopped to her paws, shaking her glossy pelt. She followed Lihtanheart outside of the warrior's den. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the cats of MorningClan were bustling about camp. Nightbloom had enjoyed her nap very much. She now studied the camp.

Swiftflight was sharing a rabbit with his mate, Streakfire. The kits were out playing. Redfur, the deputy, was beside Graystorm. Blackbeam and Cuppool, the two medicine cats, were treating a queen, Gypsyfur, that was expecting kits.

Nightbloom drew in a deep, fresh breath, and with a smile, padded forward with Lihtanheart to the camp entrance. There, she met Lionclaw and Rustfur, waiting for them. The group started out on dawn patrol.

The black she-cat bounded along in graceful strides, checking over the scents that wafted through the air. Nothing unusual.

As she padded on, the pretty black she-cat thought, taking in deep, steady breaths.

What was this feeling?

Nightbloom loved this feeling. She loved how she could run with her Clanmates, accepted, wanted, needed. It made her feel useful.

When she was a young rouge, she never had this feeling before. Though she missed her brother and mother dearly, it felt wonderful to be accepted into a sort of a family again.

Hopping over a fallen tree, she padded up to the StoneClan border. All was well here too.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Lionclaw said with a gruff nod. "That's a change."

Rustfur and Lihtanheart nodded in agreement. "Let's go back," the ginger tom said, turning back towards camp. "I promised I'd go to the gathering tonight."

"Oh yeah!" Nightbloom piped up with a nod. "I'm going too!"

Lihtanheart purred. "You lead then," she mewed, nudging the she-cat.

Nightbloom purred and shot forward, leading the patrol through the forest. Her blue eyes scanned ahead of her as she bounded along. Soon, camp came into view, and she smiled. She slowed her pace and padded through the entryway. Cats were already lining up near the camp entrance, eagerly waiting to leave for the gathering.

Padding to the fresh-kill pile, Nightbloom quickly ate a mouse, and then joined the group. This was her third gathering, and she was excited. She wanted to see her brother again. "I wonder what his warrior name is?" she thought aloud, tipping her head.

A small calico she-cat padded towards the head of the group, and Nightbloom looked up. It was Rainstar, MorningClan's leader. Flanking her was Redfur and Blackbeam.

"Alright, MorningClan! Let's move!" Redfur yowled, spinning around and bounding out of camp. Those chosen to attend the gathering followed closely behind.

Soon, MorningClan arrived at the gathering spot, the second Clan to meet there. The other Clan present was TwilightClan.

Immediately, Nightbloom shot over towards her brother.

He looked up, a strange grin vanishing. "Sister!" he meowed, pressing his muzzle into her fur.

The young she-cat looked to him. "My name's Nightbloom," she said proudly, tail swishing. The darker-than-black tom grinned. "My name's Bloodfang now as well!" he told her with a smile.

They talked for a wile as they waited for SnowClan and StoneClan to meet them. Nightbloom sensed something in her brother. "Is something troubling you?" she asked him.

He looked over to her, blinking his blood-red eyes. "No, I'm fine. Just, something really cool happened."

Nightbloom was suddenly interested and she smiled. "Really? What was it?

"I killed another cat."

All traces of happiness drained from Nightbloom's body.

What was this feeling?