Hey guys! I'm glad this story is getting a lot of positive feedback. :3

Welp, I'm probably going to be really busy with this fic instead of DC (Distress Call), so lucky you! This story will most likely be updated more often.

And, uh… I made a mistake toward the beginning of this story, and I said that Starlingsong's kits were already born. Disregard that, please! She is still quite pregnant.

Now.

R&R please!

(BTW, first part of this chapter is in the POV of someone that we haven't seen the POV of before! Also, its a little further back in time. Just for the beginning. ^^)

I snuck forward, following the trail of trampled down grass as I sniffed the air. Cricketfur had come back to the Clan, and she had told me that Stormwing ran off somewhere during the patrol. I didn't have much else to do, and I didn't get out of camp often anymore, but I decided to look for him. Somebody had to.

The trails twisted and turned through ShadowClan territory, and even through other territories. Why would Stormwing go through ThunderClan's forest? Had he been chasing prey across borders?

I decided not to cross the border, and found instead that the trail came back to the ShadowClan side eventually. I followed it, nose close to the ground, to Fourtrees. The trail smelled oddly bland, as if some loner had crossed paths here as well. Yet it had a faded scent of fish. Perhaps Stormwing was chasing some cat through RiverClan territory? Or perhaps it was a RiverClan cat?

No, that couldn't be it; the fish-smell was not strong enough for RiverClanners.

It was more like…

I stopped in my tracks. Could it be? Could Stormwing have found the trail of an exiled RiverClan warrior - the White-Pawed Murderer? Quickening my pace, I followed the trail even faster, not caring to stay quiet until the scents became quite fresh; probably only an hour ago. Slowing, I took care to step with the pads of my feet, not knowing if Ravenflight had been captured by Stormwing or vice versa. What if Stormwing had been killed in his attempts to catch the murderer? I swallowed a lump in my throat and stalked on silently until the trail disappeared under a gnarled little tree.

All was silent.

Were they both dead?

I crept past the roots of the tree, my smaller form making it easier for me to brush by. Stopping just beyond sight, I peeked around the corner, blinking to adjust to my eyes to the darkness. I stifled a gasp.

An exhausted-looking, but still quite pretty, she-cat with four white-tipped paws was sleeping in a mossy nest, face twitching as if in a nightmare. And sitting to her side, watching her, was a muscular light gray tom with darker stripes and amber eyes.

Stormwing.

Doing nothing to the criminal, that murderer, who killed his own mother!

My mother.

My breath hitched in my throat, and I forced myself to stay calm, trying to center my breathing and stay silent. I knew with a glance at my half-brother's face that he had fallen for the cat before him. I knew him well enough to know that he never loved Cricketfur. But now? Why would he fall in love with a murderer? An exiled fugitive? Was I reading his face correctly?

Yes. The way his eyes widened a bit in wonder as he gazed at her, his slightly worried expression, the way his ears titled - it was all there, as easy to read as a book. How? How could he betray me like this? How could he betray Cinderfoot?

Perhaps Ravenflight had bewitched him somehow, made him unable to think straight. Yes, that was it. It had to be. I tried to hold in a nervous giggle. How stupid I had been! To think that Stormwing would willingly love a freak! I backed out of the den, and once I was far enough out, I raced away in no particular direction, forgetting to stay quiet.

Stormwing was entranced! Simply screwed in the head! I let out an audible laugh, and tried to suppress it by putting my paw to my mouth. I kept laughing uncontrollably, flopping down on the forest floor and focusing on everything and nothing all at the same time. His brain was full of foxdung, loads and loads of it! Ravenflight had made dirt in his brain. She was a fox! A smelly, evil old fox with nothing but beetles for brains.

I better watch out, or she'll make dirt in my brain! I wheezed for breath, unsheathing my claws for no reason and my tail twitching madly. Of course, that's why I thought she was beautiful! I thought she was extraordinarily pretty… whoops! Too late! She's poisoned my mind already! She's probably an ugly old hag without her trickery. Uglier than a badger's behind! I cackled, my voice getting several octaves higher than normal.

I could feel myself losing my grip on sanity; my claws, which were holding on for dear life, were slowly slipping closer to the edge of the cliff, threatening to drop me onto the sharp rocks below. My mind and thoughts were a mess, scattering in every direction.

Kill her.

I'd kill her.

Then Stormwing'll come to his senses.

I snorted giddily. I had to kill her or else I'd end up like Stormwing and Cinderfoot. Either dead or hopelessly enchanted by her fake beauty.

Envisioning plans to free my brother from her curse, I stalked off to pursue her trail once more.

(Ravenflight's POV is next ^^)

Finding a new place was hard. My old den was perfect; it made it possible for me to listen in on Gatherings as well as stay on neutral territory. Now, my almost-utopian den was lost thanks to my stupidity.

I growled to myself when I thought of Stormwing. He legitimately thought that I was… innocent. Was he right? It wasn't the idea of my innocence that bothered me, not at all - I wished that were so - but rather the fact that he was getting my hopes up even when he could be wrong. If he wasn't wrong, well, I'd be free of this exile. But if he was… then it would be better to not believe him in the first place.

It was midday - not long after I had escaped from Stormwing, if you can call it an escape. My head was hurting, and I realized that I hadn't had a drink since the day before. I was on ThunderClan territory, which I knew well (it was one of my favorite clans next to ShadowClan, because it wasn't so… exposed to the sun) and I pinpointed the quiet rushing of a creek from where I was. Licking my dry lips in anticipation, I darted as silently as I could toward the water source, dodging twigs and crunchy leaves skillfully, just in case a patrol was nearby. The trees began to thin out, and I took care to step in the dappled shadows, as was my custom. The creek came into view.

I checked the length of the creek in case a patrol headed along; this creek was part of the river that was the border at Sunningrocks. When I saw nor scented no one, I braced myself and padded into the light, trying to ignore the burning sensations that crept along my back. Taking a few long gulps of water, I swallowed them abruptly and dashed back into the shadows of the forest, soothed by the cooling water on my tongue and the shadows encasing me.

I glanced back once more to make sure that no cat was watching me, when I caught a glimpse of something moving on the over side of the creek. I prepared to run, my muscles tensing, but then, looking at its small form and its fluffy fur, realized that it was simply a kit. It was a cute little tomcat with large red and brown spots and bright green eyes. I assumed that he was from RiverClan, but I didn't recognize him from before my exile. So he was under five moons old. Huh.

He was walking with an exaggerated bounce in his step, and he looked quite chipper as he skipped along the side of the creek. His rather large green eyes twinkled, and I suppressed a chuckle at how out-of-proportion his eyes and head were to the rest of his body. Although, from the way he carried himself, he probably thought of himself as very handsome.

He was far enough away that his untrained kit eyes couldn't see me, but close enough that I could observe quietly. He took very large steps for his size, and was most likely full of himself; perhaps he was Streamstar's kit? What was he doing so far from his camp?

I turned away slowly. It was time to go, before a patrol came looking for the lost kit. Suddenly there was a jerk of movement I caught from the corner of my eye, and when I snapped my head around to see, the little kit was falling into the water with a loud splash. Glimmering droplets of water were everywhere, and for a moment I simply stared, trying to process what had happened. Then it hit me: the little kit had slipped into the creek.

That was no problem, right? After all, RiverClan cats were trained to swim even before apprenticeship. However, as the kit's head bobbed up and down in sporadic bursts, I had second thoughts. He wasn't swimming at all! Frantically, I looked around at the bank on the other side. Was there no patrol to help?

No.

"Fox-dung," I muttered under my breath, eyes widening as I saw the kit practically drowning before my eyes. I couldn't help him; it was broad daylight and a patrol could come along any minute. But I couldn't leave him to die.

He was thrashing madly, and with each heartbeat that passed, he sank lower. He was swallowing too much water, and his kit feet probably couldn't reach the shallow floor. It would be so easy for me to sweep by and save him, but then again, it was too risky.

Then I made a decision. What did I have to lose?

I crossed the distance between myself and the creek in two swift bounds and plunged into the water. It was refreshing, and cold, and it sloshed around my chin. It was much deeper than I thought, but I could handle it. Wading forward, I moved toward the drowning kit. He bobbed once, then twice, before turning his head and catching a glimpse of me. His eyes widened in horror.

"White-Pawed-" he spluttered, sinking again, before coming back up, "- Murderer!" He attempted to churn in the water faster, making him bob furiously and proving quite difficult for me to reach him.

Finally I did, and I sank my teeth into his scruff. I ignored his cry of anger and fear, and waded the rest of the way to the other bank, the water lowering to my chest and finally low enough for me to crawl out of the creek and onto the opposite edge. I was slightly winded: the sun, my lack of swimming for five moons, and the kit's attempts to fight back had chipped a bit away from me. I gently set the kit down on the forest floor.

His eyes grew huge, blinking up at me in confusion and shock and unwavering fear. I looked around to make sure no one witnessed what had happened. I glanced at the kit in worry. "Hey," I addressed softly, not wanting to attract attention to any possibly nearby patrols. "Little kit, I'm not going to hurt you."

His neck fur flattened a tiny bit, but he still looked wary. "My name is Patchkit," he huffed, "and my momma said to run away if I find a black cat with white paws." He growled a tiny bit, growing bolder. "My momma's the Clan leader. She's always right!"

I looked away, squeezing my eyes shut and fighting away the sorrow welling up in my heart. Would I ever be liked? At all? And more importantly, would I ever fix this problem of mine? I glanced back at the kit, and attempted a warm smile. "Okay, Patchkit," I mewed, trying to sound friendly, "I'll leave. But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone about this, alright?"

He stared up at me with wide eyes. "I'm a drypaw," he mewed randomly.

I stared back, a bit taken aback. "I…" I sputtered, before shaking my head briefly and purring. "I was a drypaw at first, too, but I became an awesome swimmer after practicing a lot. I'm pretty sure you'll become the best swimmer in the Clan if you try hard enough!"

He blinked, and his eyes softened a bit. He tilted his head. "You're not the White-Pawed Murderer, are you?"

I stiffened. "What?"

"You're not the one who killed Owlheart, right?"

I stood there, shocked at this child that said almost the same thing that Stormwing did. I realized that I didn't have an answer. "I… I don't know."

I turned around, leaving the kit mewing for me to come back, as I crossed the creek and returned to the ThunderClan side of it.

"Ravenflight! Come back here tomorrow, okay?" I heard him call in his high pitched voice. "I'm going to sneak out of camp again, and then we can be friends!"

Friends.

I turned around, smiling at the little kit. "Okay," I meowed softly. I was sure he couldn't hear it, but his smile widened into a grin.

Ookay. So Patchkit is like an adorable little brother figure. If you hadn't guessed already, he's got the ego of Berrynose and the wisdom of a very young Cinderpelt. :)

Welpppppp. Review please!

-Sky