See how you like this! I need a reviewer! First one gets a Dovekit plushie and... and.................

*Quickly* Lets continue the story!

Eveningpaw: So... yep, this is the first. You can see how I deleted the last chaper.

Billowpaw: Enjoy! (Something he will never say in read life)

Chapter 1

Ivykit woke as her sister noisily stood up. She was very annoyed, as she was the one who had stayed up the latest to hear the rest of the story of Redtail's mysterious death from Ferncloud. But when she took a good look at her sister, all of the annoyance vanished, replaced by anxiety. Dovekit's fur was puffed out and her green eyes were orbs of fright, reflecting things very ominous. Ivykit watched as she shook her head. Was this a joke to worry her? If it was, it was working. It also wasn't nice. But from the stance of her, Ivykit took that it was not a joke.

"Hey Dovekit, what's wrong?" she whispered. Dovekit spun around cheerily. What was the matter with the she-kit?

'I don't know, it was just a random feeling... here," Dovekit pushed a ball of moss to her reach, away from the nursery. Ivykit glanced suspiciously at her, but then just pounced on the moss. The ball rolled toward the apprentices' den, and the two chased it without noticing. The yellow grass, dead, blew in all directions when Dovekit made a tremendous leap and ended up on a furry shape, definitely not the moss.

"Yeeee-oowwwww!" came the cry of Blossompaw. The yell echoed against the thorns of the den and the rest of them snapped awake. Bumblepaw leapt up with a mixture of surprise and drowsiness. Brairpaw was still asleep. Rosepaw was nowhere in sight.

"What the Starclan?" blinked Toadpaw, comming from the entrance. Brackenfur and Thornclaw hurried in on his heels. The scene that met their hostile eyes, expecting an enemy attack, was Blossompaw rubbing her stomach with her ears flat, Bumblepaw hissing, Brairpaw's still figure from the end of the den, and two guilty kits with a moss ball rolling away with the wind. Toadpaw coughed.

"...Dovekit... Ivykit..." Thornclaw began quietly, tail indicating his paws. The kits padded to where he pointed to, and tilted their ears in what was figured as shame.

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Meanwhile, as the kits got their scolding, the skies flickered in the now-invisible stars, shining brightly. A gray flat-faced she-cat with long fur stared down at the ground in horror. A tortie she-cat and a blue one were also there, discussing things in hushed voices. The gray cat flicked her ears as the others murmured on.

"Who.....yes.....disaster....how?......HER?" it was all that was heard from their conversation as another figure appeared. It was a strong looking tom with a white pelt.

'Is this meeting started yet?" asked the tom. His yellow eyes followed the three she-cats warily. 'Have you chosen who the last one will be?"

"We didn't decide- it has been chosen already," the gray she-cat mewed with discomfort in her voice. 'Whitestorm, how can she be? I mean, imagine that one being the last three. Imagine! I think her sister is way more mature."

"Who?" Whitestorm asked, leaning in with undisguised interest. "Yellowfang, tell me, and I can help guild the little one that you are not keen on."

Yellowfang snorted and muttered the word 'keen' with distaste. Then she sighed, "Alright. But I can't promise you to help her- there has already been one chosen, not that we don't trust you, but she deserves it." She whispered in his ear, and Whitestorm's pale amber eyes dilated, glittering in the darkness. Then he closed them, thinking.

'I see..... but who is capable of controlling the smart one? The intellegence Starclan granted her surely can see that we are trying to use her..."

"Yes, and it was a hard choice, but we have decided." The two in the background finally and suddenly popped in their heads.

"Decided? Decided? You made us get her!" hissed the blue she-cat, muzzle tinted in silver.

'Yes, Bluestar, made, but you have not thought of what she has been through, how she can help both solidly and intellectually."

"We have done too much for her already!" Bluestar exclaimed. "She deserves a life, not deserves to be important, a freak, not living a normal life! She already lives a hard enough one!"

"Yes. Cinderpelt is not a good choice," she pretty tortie and white mewed, shaking her head as if to clear it. "And we need to chose fast. The disaster is going to happen quickly. Many will die unless the three have truly mastered their talents."

"Spottedleaf, you think of someone."

"Me."

"No," Bluestar and Whitestorm firmly mewed. "She will see right through you. Your softness and kindness will give in."

"You are right...."

"Hang on!" huffed someone out in the plains. All four cats turned their heads to see a black she-cat with brilliant green eyes on her triangular head. There was some envy in her tone- she wanted to be that last three, that was clear. Yellowfang hissed and Bluestar bristled in hostility, but the other two just looked calmly at their guest.

'I got word from Honeyfern this night that you are holding a special meeting. I know it is because of the three," she panted. It was a long way, and the others were confused. If she had started at dawn and made it at dawn.... the journey had taken 2 days for the four to take.

"You are a very good warrior," Whitestorm mewed, dipping his head. "Pity you died."

"You committed suicide, but that is not the reason we are here. Go away." snarled Bluestar. She crouched at the arrival, and she made no effort to defend herself and Bluestar leapt. But Spottedleaf blocked the way and stopped the deranged she-cat.

"She did so then, but there was nothing wrong. Remember when you were at war with 'us'?" Spottedleaf mewed lightly, as if they were commenting the weather. They might have had, with her tone. Bluestar hissed at Spottedleaf's serenity, but did nothing. Yellowfang calmed down.

"Yes, we do not blame you. Come sit with us, young Hollyleaf," Yellowfang meowed. Bluestar stared incredulously at her as if Yellowfang had lost her mind. Her posture and glare seemed to say in defiance, but she backed and sat as far as possible, as if she was contagious. Hollyleaf pretended to pay no mind, but there was no excuse for not knowing how nearly every cat she had met so far had acted very unkindly to her. Spottedleaf murmured some reassuring words and wrapped her tail around her black shoulders, golden-striped with darkness. They could hardly see her shape against the night sky.

"Where were we?" meowed Whitestorm, as if nothing had happened. His august was the reason he was here. "A guardian for the last one... yes. I know now. It is destiny."

"Who?" Hollyleaf cocked her head to one side. There seemed to be a long time of spooky silence as Whitestorm addressed her name.

At that time, the clouds erupted into a volley of crackles as it drowned his words in the night.