This is Ravenpaw.

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"Graypaw?" Ravenpaw meowed, the fur on the back of her neck standing up. The gray apprentice stared at her, his face expressionless. Ravenpaw was standing a pawlength inside the ThunderClan border, glaring incredulously at the tom that had saved her.

"Apparently," he replied, and Ravenpaw detected a strained note in his voice. Ravenpaw's heart was beating a loud tattoo in her chest, and she was breathing hard after her sprint and the surprise of Graypaw's appearance.

"What are you doing out here?" she questioned.

Graypaw shrugged. "Saving your pelt."

"But…" Ravenpaw's brow furrowed. "…why?"

Graypaw glared back at her, his amber eyes full of fire. "Because I care whether you live or die," he spat. "Unlike you. You weren't even scenting that air! What were you thinking?"

Ravenpaw bit her tongue as she almost began to say, 'running away from Owlpaw', and managed a tight, "I don't know."

Graypaw sighed, his eyes raking her fur. Ravenpaw squirmed.

"I don't know what I would have done if you had gotten hurt," Graypaw murmured in an undertone, looking away again. Ravenpaw felt her head swim. She drew up her chin and took a few steps back from the border, turning to see if Graypaw was following her. He sat still, watching her calmly as she continued to pad away. Ravenpaw managed a few more foxlengths before she turned and meowed indignantly, "Are you coming?"

Graypaw smiled delicately. "Do you care?"

Ravenpaw opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it shut, snorted, and walked away. For a long while Graypaw sat at the border, his eyes staring after her, and then, as the sun began its long decent to the western horizon, he rose stiffly to his feet, shook himself, and loped into the trees.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o Okay, now Windpaw… 00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Ow!" Windpaw shrieked, as one of the ShadowClan cats shoved him roughly into a thorn bush. A loud bellowing laugh erupted from the black tomcat, and his fellows joined in, hooting with laughter as Windpaw emerged on the opposite side of the thicket, picking thorns from his fur.

"Treeclaw! Shut your mouth! He's not a prisoner, you know," a tortoiseshell she-cat snapped at the black tom. Treeclaw grimaced, but fell silent.

"Then what is he, Willowslash? What's Gravelstar want with him anyway?"

The tortoiseshell glared at her companion who had spoken up, a dark brown tabby tom.

"Are you questioning your leader's motives, Hawktalon?"

The tabby snarled at her, his tail twitching, but said no more. Apparently, Willowslash had some authority over the warriors. Windpaw wondered if she was deputy, but from the few things he had learned from Ravenpaw, the elders, and Cardinalbelly, he didn't think she was.

"Where's Cardinalbelly?" he mewed, directing the comment primarily at Willowslash. She didn't answer, but Treeclaw did.

"She ran away, twinkle-toes. Tail between her legs, ran like Tigerstar himself was at her tail."

Windpaw felt dismay creeping through his heart, but he tried to ignore. Cardinalbelly must have had a reason. She probably had to go tell Lionstar, rather than have us both captured. Yes, that's it. But nonetheless, Windpaw felt slightly betrayed.

"You said I'm not a prisoner," he meowed to Willowslash, and she looked sideways at him, her yellow eyes cold. "But I thought that Clans didn't hold ransom, or stuff like that."

Willowslash curled her lip, and took a long moment to reply. "'S not my place to tell you, tom-kit, but Gravelstar wants you special, for some reason or other. No more questions, alright?"

Windpaw nodded, chilled and afraid. He padded along behind Willowslash with little energy, his paw dragging in the muddy grass. After what seemed like long hours of silence, Willowslash's clear voice rang in his ears.

"Treeclaw, go ahead and tell Gravelstar that his apprentice is here."

With a nod, the black tom streaked ahead, disappearing in the marsh fog that swirled around them. No wonder ShadowClan cats are bad-tempered, Windpaw thought to himself, this is like living underwater. I'd die!

For a few seconds nothing happened, and Windpaw wondered where the ShadowClan camp was, and then all of a sudden Treeclaw and another cat materialized in the mist, and the second cat beckoned for them to follow. Willowslash pushed him along until they reached a large boulder, and suddenly she stopped and sat down.

"Where are we?" Windpaw asked.

"You'll see," she murmured.

And, as they waited, the fog drifted away some, and suddenly, seeming as though it had just come into existence a moment before, there lay the ShadowClan camp.

Like the ThunderClan camp, a wall of brambles and thorn bushes surrounded it. This camp was nestled into a deep depression in the marshy round ringed by boulders and short, stubby pine trees. It was like a ghost forest, with eddies of fog gently wafting by. The dens were hidden among the roots of the gnarled trees, shadowy caves sunk into the soft ground. It was an all-together well-concealed and comfortable looking camp – except for the eerie presence of the gray miasma.

"Welcome to ShadowClan, young one," purred Willowslash, and Windpaw would have thought the whole thing was staged, except for no cat could control fog.

"Thank you," he mewed icily, following Willowslash and the rest of the patrol into the camp. Windpaw felt the curious stares of the ShadowClan cats on his back as he walked among them, a stranger among his enemies. He had half a mind to bolt and see how far he could get, and try to tell Lionstar where the camp was so that his Clan could rescue him, but he knew that none of these hardened warriors would hesitate to slit his throat if he ran.

"Gravelstar wants to see him immediately," one of the warriors said to Willowslash as she passed, and she nodded, touching Windpaw's shoulder lightly with her tail to steer him in the right direction.

Gravelstar's den was a large cave that had been carved into the side of a tall boulder year and years past, by an ancient river that had dried up before the Clans even existed. It looked comfortable enough, though if Windpaw were leader, he was sure that he would prefer Lionstar's warm den.

"Come in," came a deep, rough meow from the depths of the cave, and Windpaw felt a chill tingle along his spine. It was like one of the elder's stories, stories that he'd thought were just meant to scare him and give him bad dreams, not stories that were meant to warn him of the truth.

"Go on, tom-kit," Willowslash urged, pushing Windpaw forward. He swallowed his fear and entered the den, his ears laid back across his head.

"Ah…Windpaw, is it?" came the deep meow, and as Windpaw descended into the cave, he could make out a great shape in the gloom.

"Yes," he answered.

As he grew loser, Gravelstar's shape was easily discernible, even in the enveloping darkness. The ShadowClan leader was big and bulky, with short, dark gray fur that was smooth and glossy, and showed off hard, thick muscles in his shoulder's and flanks. Windpaw shuddered, hoping that none of his clan mates would have to contend with this monster in battle.

"Come in, sit down," Gravelstar meowed, gesturing for Windpaw to make himself comfortable. Windpaw warily took a seat at the edge of Gravelstar's nest, watching the gray tom with bright blue eyes.

"First, Windpaw, I must explain something to you. Tell me truthfully, young cat – when you walked into my camp, what was the first thing you felt?"

Windpaw looked into Gravelstar's green eyes, and replied hesitantly, "Fear."

Gravelstar chuckled. "As I thought. Windpaw, what is the first thing you feel when you walk into your own camp – into ThunderClan?"

Windpaw blinked. "Why, I feel safe. I feel…I don't know. I relax." His whiskers quivered, wondering what Gravelstar was getting at. The great leader sighed.

"How do you think this would have different if you had been born in ShadowClan, young apprentice? If this place were your home?"

Windpaw frowned. "I guess…well, I would have felt safe here, and scared to go to ThunderClan. But that's not what I feel. I can't ever be afraid of my home." Windpaw twitched his tail.

"Windpaw, I am not meaning to scare you now, but it is my intention that this place will become your home."

Windpaw recoiled, leaping to his feet. "This place? Never! I hate this – this camp!" His crystalline eyes sparked.

Gravelstar did not say anything, merely waited for Windpaw to calm down so that he could continue. "Windpaw, you have no choice. You are now an apprentice of ShadowClan, under my command. You will learn to love this Clan as your own, as Cardinalbelly loves ThunderClan, though she was born here."

At that, a touch of sadness flickered through Gravelstar's eyes, and Windpaw frowned, cringing away.

"Anyhow, you shall not be able to escape – I assure you that you will be under constant supervision."

Windpaw's heart raced, and his mouth felt dry. "Why?" he choked. "Why are you keeping me here?"

Gravelstar watched him with a glitter in his eyes that made Windpaw shiver. "Windpaw, I do not know if you know the legends, but there are the stories of the three children of Firestar's daughter – Lionstar, Hollyclaw, and Jayfeather – each of those cats having abilities that were given to them by StarClan – special abilities, you might say. Though I do not know if you know this either, in fact I am quite sure that you do not, Lionstar had a son – Boldstar, and he in turn gave birth to Scarletspirit, a she-cat with the most profound skills in battle – soon to be leader as well. Her daughter, Mistystone, is your mother. It is my belief that these strange powers skip a generation, and thus you are bound to have some of the blood in you. I would like very much to obtain these powers for myself. Therefore, you are now an apprentice of ShadowClan. You will soon forget ThunderClan, I assure you."

Windpaw was trembling violently now, his eyes wide with astonishment and fear. "You're a monster," was all he could manage, but it came out in a pathetic sounding squeak. At this Gravelstar let out a loud, bellowing laugh, then rose to his feet.

"Come, young warrior, let me show you around."

Windpaw followed Gravelstar out of the den, his head whirling. He only half-listened as Gravelstar showed him the warriors' den, the elders' den, the nursery – he was thinking to himself of all the strange things that had happened. First of all, he apparently had strange, StarClan-given powers that were so great that the leader of ShadowClan himself was willing to capture Windpaw to get them. Second, he might never see his home in ThunderClan again. There was so much to think about that Windpaw could barely see straight.

"Windpaw," Gravelstar growled, snapping Windpaw out of his confusion. Before him stood a slender, pale gray tomcat, who was looking him up and down with approving eyes. "Windpaw, this is Moonstripe. He is to be your mentor."

The gray warrior nodded solemnly to him, and meowed in a soft voice for all the world like the velvety light of the moon, "Greetings, Windpaw of ThunderClan," he paused, and a tilted smile played across his lips, "or is it Windpaw of ShadowClan now? I am honored to be your mentor."

Windpaw touched his nose, instantly feeling at ease with the gentle gray tom and his smooth voice.

"Moonstripe will show you to your den," Gravelstar directed, more towards Moonstripe then to him. Moonstripe bowed his wedge-shaped face, then beckoned with his tail for Windpaw to follow. Windpaw trailed behind him as the thin warrior crossed the camp, and then sat down at the mouth of a den that had been dug into the earth. Windpaw wrinkled his nose – the smell of badger was still strong, and he realized that this must have been a badger set at one time or another.

"It stinks," he meowed grimacing. Moonstripe grinned.

"You'll get used to, don't worry. When I became an apprentice, I felt the same way, but by the third day, I hardly noticed the smell."

Windpaw smiled, his relief at having this kin tom as a mentor overwhelming him. Perhaps not all cats in ShadowClan wert that bad after all.

"I will fetch you in the morning, to the lean the boundaries of your new Clan."

Windpaw mewed goodbye, then tentatively stepped into the den. There were two cats there already – a small black and gray tom, and a ginger she-cat. The tom was fast asleep, but the ginger watched him with curiosity as he approached.

"Hey," she meowed. "I'm Flightpaw. This is my brother Shortpaw. Whitepaw's out with Dirtleg. Who're you?"

Windpaw blinked. "Windpaw."

Flightpaw smiled. "Kay. I heard about you. Huntedwing says you're from ThunderClan. Is it the same as here? Do you eat the same stuff? What does Lionstar look like? See, I haven't been in any battles yet, so I've never seen him, but Huntedwing says that he's golden, like a real lion from the stories. Huntedwing is my sister. She's a seasoned warrior, like Moonstripe. I heard that he's mentoring you. Lucky, he's my other sister Poppyfoot's mate. She always tells me that he's handsome and kind, but I'm not really sure…."

Windpaw wasn't listening, and as she prattled on, never giving him time to answer her myriad questions, he searched for a comfortable nest; he was so tired he was nearly falling asleep on his feet.

After a while, and as Windpaw had finally gotten comfortable, Willowslash came in looking for Flightpaw, who was apparently her apprentice, and meowed a quick hello to Windpaw before hurrying away. Shortpaw was still asleep, and in a matter of seconds, Windpaw followed, drifting into a deep, dreamless slumber.