A/N: HOLY CRAP. THIS CHAPTER IS SO LONG. FREAKING 3,000 WORDS. THIS IS POSSIBLY THE LONGEST CHAPTER I HAVE EVER WRITTEN FOR ANY STORY EVERY ON FFN. NO WONDER IT TOOK SO LONG.

Anyway, thank you for the review. And actually, the answer to your question is revealed here. :)

"Whitekit!"

The tom's ears flicked, and he turned questioning green eyes in the direction of the voice. A cool wind blew over his fur; the sun was setting.

"Beechkit and Squirrelkit want to play with you!"

The tiny moon-old kits tumbled out of the nursery in a burst of tangled paws and high-pitched squealing. They landed at his feet and jumped up, tottering as they grinned brightly up at him. He couldn't help a smile coming over his muzzle as well.

There were two of them, both she-cats. Beechkit was brown like her mother, pelt mottled with darker and lighter splashes. Squirrelkit was a dark ginger tabby with a smile bright as the sun and a tail fluffy as, well, a squirrel's. Both lit up the nursery (except for when they were yowling at night, at which point Whitekit wanted nothing more than to be a couple dozen foxlengths away from them). Their mother, Mouseshadow, was the nicest cat he knew (besides his own mother, of course), and scolded Thrushkit whenever she picked on him and his siblings. He was happy about that, but the dusky brown queen couldn't stop her entirely.

At least Thrushkit'll be out of the nursery in a moon, he thought optimistically. Then his expression dampened. But so will Emberkit and Sparrowkit.

"Mmf!" The squeak of surprise jolted him back to reality. Squirrelkit had plowed straight into his fluffy chest fur. She backed away with a violent shake of her head, peering up at him as if to say, How did you get there?

"Mouse-sha-do," Whitekit asked politely, "can Beechkit and Squiwwewkit go to the ewdews wiff me?"

The small queen paused, doubt flickering over her face. Please say yes! Whitekit pleaded silently.

"Oh, I suppose," she relented. "But be careful. And don't be too wild with - "

"WHITE-KIIIIITTT!"

"Wuah! Oomph! Wowfkit!"

Thus was the sound of Wolfkit barreling into Whitekit once again. The little white tom glared up at his triumphant brother, who happened to be sitting on his chest.

"Wowfkit! I was tawking!" he protested, shoving the black tom away. Wolfkit's eyes gleamed with amusement, tail straight up in the air, as Whitekit sat up and gave his ruffled pelt a shake. Suddenly, a thin wail pierced his ears. Beechkit! The mottled she-kit, sitting back on her haunches, was bawling. Squirrelkit stood nearby, looking bewildered, ears plastered flat against her skull. Whitekit bounded forward to give Beechkit a concerned sniff.

"Oh, Beechkit! Beechkit, it's okay!" Mouseshadow gasped. Her alarmed expression softened as she saw what the matter was. "Oh, you've got a thorn in your paw! Come on, let's go see Mintleaf." She grasped the whimpering kit by the scruff and hurried for the medicine den. Squirrelkit scampered after them, the trip to the elders all but forgotten.

Whitekit stared after them, internally warring over whether to feel sorry Beechkit was hurt or annoyed he couldn't take her to see Finchsong. Well, I could still go...

"Hey, Wowfkit!" The black tom glanced up swiftly. "Wanna go to the ewdews'?"

Wolfkit wrinkled his nose. "I wanted to pway..."

"We'be pwayed ebewy good game awweady," Whitekit disagreed. (Which was true - they'd exhausted pretty much all their ideas over the course of the day.) "It'ww be fun!" He stretched his neck to the breeze and sniffed. "Whewe's Mistkit, anyway? I haben't seen hew in wike ten yeaws!"

Wolfkit seemed resigned to his elder-filled fate and dutifully scanned the camp for his sister. He gave up after about ten seconds, shrugging. "Dunno. She's so bowing." His eyes lit up suddenly. "Oh! Thewe she is."

The little silver tabby was talking to Ashpaw and Brackenpaw near their den. How like her! It was like she was a little grown-up. Whitekit fluffed out his long pelt against the cold. Dusk was falling, the shadows lengthening across camp. The last tinges of red were fading from the sky, the sun an amber glimmer between the trees. He didn't feel like running across camp to fetch her, or yowling for her either. Honestly, he was tired from a long day of play, and wanted nothing more to curl up in a warm nest for a story.

"Let all cats old enough gather before the Scorchtree for a Clan meeting!"

Fernstar's yowl made him blink. Ashpaw and Brackenpaw bade Mistkit farewell, bounding to join the growing knot of cats beneath the Scorchtree. Feeling the presence of another cat behind him, he turned to blink into Rainsky's serene eyes.

"It's full moon tonight," she meowed, wrapping her tail around her sons. Warmth enveloped Whitekit as long fur mingled with his own on all sides. Rainsky's heartbeat, strong and steady, thrummed beneath her pelt. She lifted her muzzle and went on, "Fernstar'll be announcing who'll go to the Gathering."

"Wiww you get to go, Mommy?"

Whitekit jumped; he hadn't even heard Mistkit's approach. The little tabby snuggled in beside him as Rainsky purred, "No, little one. Queens stay home with their kits."

"...will be," Fernstar announced, "myself, Blackwhisker, Mintleaf, Dawnblaze, Sootflight, Birchpelt, Driftfeather, Breezefur, Hawkclaw, Ashpaw, Smokepaw, and Brackenpaw. We'll leave after twilight."

Murmurs filled the crowd, drifting to Whitekit's ears. Wolfkit suddenly squirmed beside him, eyes shining with glee. "Mommy! Mommy! We should stay up untiw they come back!"

Rainsky laughed. "No, Wolfkit, it's far past your bedtime."

He pouted. "But, Mommy! I wanna heaw the news!"

"Siwwy!" Whitekit teased. "You'd be asweep defowe they eben weft!"

"I would not!" he squealed indignantly.

"Would too!"

"Would not!"

"Would too!"

"Wouldnot!" "Wouldtoo!" "Wouldnot!" "Wtoo!" "Wnot!" "Wtoo!" "NOT!" "TOO!"

They panted, breath spent. Wolfkit glared, Whitekit purred, and Rainsky swept them all into the nursery with a roll of her eyes. The moon rose above them as their Clanmates slipped away to the Gathering one-by-one.

He woke to Mouseshadow and Rainsky murmuring nearby. The air was still; it felt cold and grey beyond his closed eyes, but he was safe and warm in his nest. He was the first to wake up, as usual; both of his siblings were curled up beside him. Gotta stay still, he thought groggily. Wanna hear. Gradually his mind woke up and his ears tuned into their words.

"...heard what happened at the Gathering last night?"

Yes! Just what I wanted to hear.

"Yes, poor mite," Mouseshadow mewed sympathetically. "And I heard it was Dapplefur who suggested it."

"What? Really?!" Rainsky's voice seemed to jump several decibels in volume before continuing in a hushed tone. "I've no idea what'll happen now... I know Fernstar's doing her best to support him, but there are a lot in our Clan who'd be happy to have him gone."

"She was smart to take him as her apprentice," Mouseshadow sighed quietly. "The question is, will it be enough?"

Whitekit jumped up in surprise, suddenly realizing who they were talking about. Brackenpaw! What had happened at the Gathering? Cats in their Clan wanted him gone? Rainsky turned her blue eyes on him questioningly, and his ears flattened in embarrassment. "Bad dream," he blurted, not wanting her to know he'd been eavesdropping.

"Aww," she mewed with sympathy. "What was it about? I'm sorry, Whitekit."

"I-I dunno," he muttered. He stared at his paws, the tips of his ears burning with shame. "I can't wemembew."

"Well, I suppose that's good. It's over now." Rainsky gave him a faint, encouraging smile, but Whitekit could tell she was worried. Whether it was worry for him or for Brackenpaw, he couldn't tell. His head was still spinning with questions. Why don't people like him? Who's Dapplefur? Is she in our Clan? He knew he couldn't ask Rainsky these questions. She'd know what he'd been doing. So who could he ask? Not Brackenpaw, certainly; he was sure the golden tabby wouldn't want to tell him about a horrible experience. So who...?

I know! Finchsong! She knew the answers to all his questions, and was happy to tell the inquisitive little kit anything he wanted to know. Whenever something didn't make sense, it was her he went to; it seemed she knew everything. And she was probably... the third nicest cat he knew (after Rainsky and Mouseshadow, of course - oh, and Robinwing, he'd forgotten Robinwing).

"Mommy," he asked Rainsky sweetly, "can I go out into camp?"

She smiled at him. "I don't know why not. Just don't harass anyone and don't go into other dens without asking and you should be fine."

Whitekit grinned and chirped, "I will, Mommy!" before bouncing out of the nursery. Internally, he rolled his eyes. That was advice she should be giving Wolfkit, not him! His eyes scanned the camp. The sun hovered above the treetops, chasing away the stripes of cloud that surrounded it. It seemed like it was going to be a nice day today, unlike the past week, which were full of yucky rain. He let the sun's wan rays fall warmly on his pelt as he glanced around the clearing. It was as empty as it usually was this time of day, when all the patrols had gone out and none or almost none of them had returned. Though he did spot Leafwind's litter playing near the Scorchtree, as well as Ivypaw and Vinepaw lying next to the fresh-kill pile. Their striped pelts, one ginger and the other dark brown, mingled as they shared a mouse. The two brothers were the oldest apprentices in the Clan, nearly warriors by now. Lucky, he thought enviously. What he would give to be out their training with them!

He gave his pelt a shake. Stay focused, Whitekit! You're going to see Finchsong! Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the elders' den. Although he'd prefer not to, he was prepared to face even Greenfern's acid tongue in his quest for knowledge. To his relief, though, only Finchsong was there, dozing peacefully as light dappled her golden pelt.

"Um... Finchsong?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to wake her up if she was truly asleep. The elder's ear flicked at his call, and she shifted, orange eyes slitting open.

"Oh, hello, Whitekit." She stretched and blinked the sleep from her eyes, regarding him fondly. "Here for another story?"

"Weww... kind ob." He looked down at his paws, shuffling them in embarrassment. "Mowe wike... some questions."

"Why didn't you say so? Come in! What is it now?" she asked cheerfully. Reassured, he bounded forward and settled himself by her side. He could only hope this wasn't one of those questions where the answer was I'll tell you when you're older.

"Weww..." he began, sorting words carefully in his head, "I heawd that somefing bad happened to Bwackenpaw at the Gathewing." His voice rose in volume and intensity, unable to hold back his worry for his friend any longer. "And that some MapweCwan cats want him gone! Who doesn't wike Bwackenpaw, Finchsong? And why?" Anxiety swam in his eyes as he blinked up at the elderly she-cat. She was staring at him as though he'd grown wings, and his heart sank as the distress faded. This is going to be one of those questions, isn't it?

But to his surprise, she only wrapped her striped tail around him, pulling him closer. She looked weary as their eyes connected once more, but resigned, and her face held a softness it hadn't a moment ago. "It's a long story, Whitekit. But I'll tell you if you really want to know."

He nodded vigorously, and her tail-tip flicked up. "On one condition: you won't go around camp yakking about it. Brackenpaw has enough cats talking about him already."

Her eyes pierced his sternly, and he nodded again, solemnly this time. "I pwomise," he mewed, and meant it.

She stared into space for awhile, seeming to contemplate how to begin the story. "Long ago," she began at last, "before your mother was born, there was a warrior named Finchsong." What?! What does that have to do with Brackenpaw? thought Whitekit, but he kept quiet.

"The warrior found a mate and had kits. Their names were Sunkit and Hawkkit. They grew up to be Sunpetal and Hawkclaw, but Sunpetal died." Sadness tinged her voice here, and Whitekit was surprised. Finchsong is Hawkclaw's mother? Then again, they were both golden...

The elder went on: "Hawkclaw was very sad. That's when he met someone at a Gathering. A GorseClan she-cat, very pretty, a tortoiseshell. Her name was Dapplefur." The cat who was mean to Brackenpaw at the Gathering?! He could see where this was going, but he didn't want to believe it. "Hawkclaw and Dapplefur grew to love each other, but they kept it a secret for many moons. Finally, Hawkclaw decided he had to put his Clan first. But on the night he told her so, she told him something... she was expecting his kits." Finchsong's voice fell to a hush. "They stopped seeing one another. Two moons later, Dapplefur gave birth to a single kit, a golden tabby tom. But she would not keep him. She gave him to his father, but he did not want the kit either. At the time, there was only one queen in the nursery to feed him: Sootflight. She took him in and named him Brackenkit, and raised him alongside her daughters, Ashkit and Smokekit. He became like a son to her. But no one has forgotten that the kit is half GorseClan. And I suspect they never will."

"And they shouldn't, seeing as he has no right to have been born!" Whitekit whirled around. Greenfern! "MapleClan as far too many halfClans," she muttered, fixing Whitekit with a hateful glare. Finchsong's tail drew tighter around him, and her face held a strange sadness as it flicked from him to Greenfern.

"So... he's a... halfCwan," he whispered slowly. "But - then what happened at the Gathewing? And why was Dappwefuw mean to him?" he demanded of Finchsong.

But it was Greenfern who replied. "At the Gathering, GorseClan demanded we get rid of him," she growled brusquely. "They're ashamed of him, I bet. Just a reminder they can't control their warriors. And Dapplefur suggested it because she hates him, simple as that."

Whitekit gaped at her. "But she's his mommy! Mommies don't hate theiw kits!"

Greenfern shrugged. "Tell that to Dapplefur."

Finchsong's glare to her denmate was fiercer than any Greenfern could hope to muster. "Thank you for that eloquent answer, Greenfern," she growled sarcastically. "Go on and play, Whitekit. I think you've heard quite enough for today." She nudged him to his paws, and he scampered out of the den before the elders could spring any more horrific tales on him. He ended up stumbling around the clearing, mind whirring with the information he'd learned. Brackenpaw's halfClan. He's Hawkclaw's son. His parents hate him. People want him gone.

Then another thought struck him, so shocking he slumped into a sitting position. So many things were coming together, puzzle pieces clicking in his three-moon-old mind.

Cats glare at Brackenpaw. The way they glare at me and Mistkit and Wolfkit. They hate us like they hate him. He'd never know why Greenfern wouldn't talk to him, why Thrushkit refused to play, why Leafwind acted like he didn't exist, why he'd catch Icestorm eyeing him hatefully. But he remembered. They'd called him that before, once or twice. Not to his face. But he'd heard it, the muttered remark of "halfClan", dripping with scorn. The word made no sense - he'd always assumed it was just another insult, applied to him like "mouse-brain" or "bossy-paws". But Greenfern'd just called him it again.

And he knew what it meant now.

But that's impossible! he insisted. Mommy and Daddy are both MapleClan cats! And they love me.

Then he had another thought, even more horrible than the last. What if... what if... He began to shake. I always thought Sootflight was Brackenpaw's mommy! But she's not! What if Rainsky isn't my real mommy?!

The thought wouldn't leave him alone. It tormented him for the rest of the day, and when Mistkit asked him what was wrong, he snapped at her. After that, his siblings avoided him, and by the time Rainsky called them in for a nap he felt like he was driving himself crazy.

I have to know. I have to know, he thought as Rainsky settled them in their nest. I have to know the truth.

"Are you okay, Whitekit?" she asked him in concern, and that was the last straw. He could no longer hold himself back.

"Awe you ouw weaw mommy?!" he blurted out. His siblings stared at him like he'd asked if Fernstar was secretly a Twoleg, but he didn't care. He had to know, and he couldn't have held it in another second.

"What?!" she cried, voice filled with shock. "Of course I am! Why would you ask that?"

"'Cuz Sootflight's not!" he wailed.

"Ob couwse Sootfwight's not ouw mom, mousebrawin!" Wolfkit scoffed.

"No, no, no! That's not what - what - " Whitekit gasped. "She isn't Bwackenpaw's mommy! 'Cuz his mommy is Dappwefuw! And she hates him! 'Cuz - 'cuz - 'cuz - " He finally ran out of breath and buried his nose in Rainsky's long fur, sobs wracking his small shoulders.

"Whitekit," Rainsky mewed gently, "who told you all this?"

"Fi-Fin-nchsong," he stuttered, trying not to burst into tears again. "A-a-and Gw-eenfewn." A stunned silence enveloped them for a moment, and then Whitekit looked his mother straight in the eye. "Mommy," he mewed, "awe w-we h-ha-halfCwan?"

"Ha-HalfCwan?" Mistkit stammered, obviously still frightened by Whitekit's outburst. "What does that mean?"

"Yeah," Wolfkit added. Even he looked solemn. "Fwushkit cawwed me that today."

Rainsky sighed heavily. "It means," she mewed, "a cat who has parents from two different Clans."

"But that's not wight," Mistkit peeped up, confused. "You and Daddy awe bof fwom MapweCwan."

"No," Rainsky whispered, "we're not. And I'm sorry, kits. I knew that someday you'd learn there was something different about you."

Wolfkit's jaw hung agape. "Not?" he cried. "Not fwom MapweCwan?"

Rainsky shook her head. "No. Before you were born, I lived in SnowClan. But then I met your father. And he was - is - wonderful, and kind..." She took a shuddering breath and forced her gaze back to her kits. "I had to raise you in MapleClan, with him, where you'd be loved."

"SnowCwan..." Whitekit whispered.

"Is that why ebweeone is mean to us?" Mistkit asked, eyes wide and sad.

"Oh, Mistkit," Rainsky murmured. "Not everyone. Not everyone." She wrapped her tail tightly around her kits, drawing them close. "I'll always protect you, little ones," she whispered. "No matter what they say to you, you'll always be loved."