*Coughs* It's been a while. Sorry. You haven't forgotten me, have you? I was having some trouble with this chappie, and I've been busy.

You've been lazy.

Oh, be quiet! That's Cinnamon, or Cinny for short. She feels a need to criticize my work constantly...but she never managed to get out of the closet before...

The plushie of Graystripe in a princess dress was cheating.

Will either of you ever free me?

Now, now, Crookedstar...don't be silly. First reviewer gets aforementioned plushie!

She still doesn't own me...Not yet...

The stillness of the moonlit night made Poppypaw feel more awake than ever. She was learning to love the darkness, the shadows that intrigued her and blocked the memories of her family. The lapping of the lake against the sandy shores emphasized the silence. The crunch of the sand beneath her paws seemed unnaturally loud—yet not loud enough to penetrate the quiet. The loudest sound was of Poppypaw's own heartbeat—louder and louder, the strange, icy dread in her belly contrasting with the fire that made her heart race so. She was almost in a trance, the nearness of her clanmates her only comfort.

"Poppypaw! Poppypaw!" hissed Amberpaw, nipping her flank. The black-and-white apprentice shook herself and shuddered. Prickles of fear still ran down her spine, but this time she attributed them to her nervousness. An enormous fallen tree's roots loomed in front of them, stabbing at the starry sky. Owlpaw was already scrambling up onto the top of the tree, lightly trotting across. Poppypaw did not find the crossing so easy; the tree's bark had long been washed away, making weaving through the branches tricky. She began picking her way across carefully, her eyes glued to the wet wood.

And then...she looked up. The tapestry of branches had a small gap, at the end of the tree. The feline narrowed her eyes, her warm golden gaze having become cold, and calculating. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she lowered herself into a crouch. She sprang forward, her small, furry body lithely twisting as she darted around the branches. Poppypaw allowed herself to relax. Letting the feline take over was much easier than crossing the log by herself.

"Mrraigh!"

A cold jolt wrenched her from her safety on the log.

Somehow, her surefooted paws had slipped.

How had that happened?

Her claws were too short, too weak.

She was sliding away, into the darkness, and Amberpaw couldn't save her.

Poppypaw wished she could still cry.

Strong jaws grasped her scruff, lifting her away from the black water. She let out a breath she hadn't even known she had been holding, and began to hyperventilate. All she could see was the brilliant orange fur of her rescuer. Slowly, the Shadowclan apprentice raised her eyes to the massive tom's face. The world, previously stabilized, began to spin again. His green eyes were too familiar, too strange. He didn't really look like Puss at all...But Rusty's elegant, sculpted face and his warm emerald-colored eyes could not be mistaken...Kathy could not look away. The world of Warriors was real.

Warriors is real.

Kathy collapsed helplessly on the ground just as Amberpaw reached her.

"Poppypaw!" he exclaimed, nuzzling his best friend. She was definitely unconscious...but why? The handsome Thunderclan tom seemed not only concerned, but as startled as Poppypaw had been when she saw his face, and—sorrowful. His eyes were sad, even as he stared at her. Amberpaw suddenly realized the unnaturally serious voices near the center of the island. There were no younger, higher voices to be heard. Only Shadowclan had brought apprentices. Grim foreboding tainted his good mood.

You must help to prove our innocence in this crime.

Amber-eyed Amberpaw tensed. The Thunderclan tom seemed to understand, turning to leave; however, as he left, Gingerpaw hurried forward.

"What happened?" she wailed. The other, darker ginger apprentice blinked. Were Poppypaw and Gingerpaw already so close?

"She—she slipped. That Thunderclan cat saved her. I was too far away...and I don't know if she can swim. But...she fainted," he meowed, shamed by his failure to save her. Gingerpaw ran her tongue across her fangs anxiously.

"It might be shock—the fainting, I mean...but she ought to be okay, I think. Wait—what happened to her claws? They're all frayed and ripped."

This Amberpaw hadn't noticed. His memories of Poppypaw's accident, her clutching claws and echoing cry, were briefly relived in his mind. Gripping the hard, slippery wood with her sharp little claws had taken its toll.

Poppypaw stirred, her realization still ringing in her mind as she awoke. Two orange faces greeted her with worried eyes. She blinked, and realized that Gingerpaw had come while she was out.

"Hi," she mewed, struggling to her feet. "Has the Gathering started yet?"

Gingerpaw shook her head.

"Not yet. C'mon, let's go see what's happening."

Smiling, Poppypaw nodded. She would have to deal with the dread weighing heavily in her stomach and prickling at her fur with Amberpaw later. Gatherings were supposed to be fun. Why would this one be anything different? She padded between her two suddenly protective friends nervously. As they approached the clearing, and Poppypaw unsuccessfully tried to bite her lip. It didn't work on a cat mouth. She flicked her tail instead. Why aren't there any apprentices? All the warriors seem so solemn. A few toms even cast angry glances towards the Shadowclan apprentices before looking away. It was almost like they were jealous. But that...couldn't be. The only possible reason for that...would be if they had no apprentices. And they should've had apprentices. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, but what was it? The frightened little she-cat shrank into the shadows to hide with the others of her clan; their quiet fear was oddly comforting. She did not notice Firestar's thoughtful gaze follow her there as Blackstar cleared his throat.

"Shadowclan prospers," he meowed, elegant, handsome, and mysterious. His aristocratic appearance contrasted sharply with the other leaders. Onestar was regal, but more like Napoleon. He was little. Leopardstar was the picture of queenliness, and Firestar was striking, with his bright fur. "We have two new apprentices, and I am happy to report that Lilyfur has had her first litter. Our forests continue to yield prey." With this last, Blackstar nodded to Leopardstar. The golden she-cat had an angry expression, one that spoke of accusations.

"Shadowclan has stolen our kits!"" she yowled. Poppypaw froze, her ears pricked to the slightest sound. Her own breathing seemed to loud, too ragged. Leopardstar had a crazed, vengeful gleam in her eyes. "It's true! Four sunrises ago, every kitten under twelve moons disappeared."

"What proof do you have?" demanded Swanpaw. Cats all over the clearing were yowling, each trying to drown out his neighbors.

"Our kits were taken as well, Blackstar," meowed Firestar; Onestar nodding in agreement. The white tom was impassive but for his eyes, which burned with anger. The clearing had become a riot, despite the futile attempts of the medicine cats to calm things down.

"How...dare you."

Blackstar's low, ringing voice silenced the mob. Even Swanpaw, who had been steadily fighting her way to the Tree, was spell-bound.

"You accuse me—no, you accuse my clan, of this? Of—stealing away every kit, every apprentice in the forest in one night, in a single night, leaving no tracks, no scents, no traces whatsoever. And you turn to us when it comes time to lay the blame, merely because evil has chosen us in the past? Do a few monstrous cats make the rest of us evil, as well?

"I have served under three tyrants, and of those, Brokenstar and Tigerstar were two. Brokenstar—" a small, sardonic smile twisted a corner of his mouth. "Well, Brokenstar was a bad boy. Him and his lies, and his murders. He kept all of us in the dark. But...the funny thing is about the dark is that once you've been in it long enough, it only takes the smallest ray of light to separate the light and the shadows.

"What none of you understand, is...almost everything, except for what you've been set up to see. There is not a single cat in this forest who knows what this is about, but I doubt you will ever see your kits again if you do not look beyond a single ray of sunlight! Once you are a shadow, you learn the difference between the light that is meant to illuminate and the light that is meant to deceive."

Leopardstar's tail lashed angrily.

"If those words were meant to trick us, I'm afraid you have failed. You have one day to return the kits. And if they are not returned, Riverclan will attack," she meowed haughtily.

"As well as Thunderclan," announced Firestar.

"And Windclan," mewed Onestar firmly. Startling every cat, Blackstar yawned.

"I suppose it's always nice to have a little warning, and it was a little too much to expect you'd actually start keeping your brains in you heads, instead of your claws, but is keeping the treaty beyond you as well?"

As Leopardstar prepared to snarl a response, the moon was blotted out by a cloud. Poppypaw nearly froze. I was right. Something is wrong. And now everyone thinks it's our fault. What will we do? Amberpaw sensed her shock and nudged her gently.

"Night vision, remember? Just like Applenose taught you. Ignore your eyes until they adjust."

Poppypaw shook her head in an attempt to clear it and began to focus on her ears and nose, opening her mouth to taste the air. Amberpaw was on her right, Owlpaw was on her left, and seven cats were between her, Littlecloud and Gingerpaw. Amid all the confusion, Blackstar, Russetfur, and Swanpaw were making their way back to their clanmates.

"Shadowclan!" hissed he, crouching among them. "We must get to the lake and swim back to our own territory. I'm sorry, but it's the only way."

The small party of cats moved silently and swiftly to the edge of the island, where Blackstar urged them into the water. Poppypaw, nervous at first, thought she heard someone coming through the brush, and plunged into the icy water. The white tom stayed behind to bring up the rear, sending Russetfur ahead, but he had entered the lake first of all of them.

A yowl of rage sounded from the island. Obviously, the others had heard it too, because they kept glancing back over their shoulders, though Poppypaw didn't bother. The murderous, enraged Leopardstar had obviously discovered their disappearance. Despite the way her entire body seemed to be made of icicles, and the aching in her muscles, the she-cat couldn't resist a smug smirk. She had witnessed Blackstar trump the queen of Riverclan. It was a good day to be a feline.

Or, should I say, night?

I was having trouble figuring out how to get Poppy to talk to the apprentices, until I decided to get rid of the apprentices, too! ;)