A/N: Hey guys! It's Chapter 11! This'll probably be mostly in Cloudpaw's POV. Oh, and my AMAZING beta-er, Mothstar gave me the idea for both Cloudpaw AND Ripplepaw's warrior names. HUGE thanks go to her. Man, this is the longest chapter yet! A whole 7 pages! Oh, this chapter re-tells Mist's story, only in a very creepy way. It's down at the bottom, so if you like, you can just read the whole bit up until our two characters (nope, not giving away the warrior names!) reach the warriors den. I like the disclaimer/claimer method I used in Chapter 10, so that's what I'll do! Enjoy!

Training (Rated T)

We wake up to our first day of training. It's a little before dawn, so we don't have to head out quite yet. The other apprentices are still asleep, although they won't be for long. I'm reminded of something that's confused me about Silverki-no, Silverpaw. "Hey, Silverpaw?" I ask.

She turns slightly to look at me. "Yes?"

"How come you're Silverpaw? Why not Ebonypaw or something? Because your fur is black, not silver," I note.

Her gaze hardens. "Because Silver is my name. That's why."

"Okay! I was just wondering!"

"Well, you know what they say," Silverpaw mews, a teasing tone entering her voice.

"Actually, I don't. What do they say?"

"Curiosity killed the cat!" she responds, smiling.

"Where do you get this stuff? Remember when you referred to something called a 'fanfic', and, let me see, what was it, oh, yes, the 'Empire State building'?" I wonder.

Silverpaw shrugs. "I don't really know. It just pops into my brain. We're going to be late for training if we don't hurry."

"Let's go, then! By the way, how did you get that whisper last night?"

"I didn't," replies Silverpaw. "That really was a piece of your spirit." She starts to laugh suddenly. "The look on your face! No, I thought something like that would happen; I've spied on the apprentices before. I got Rainkit and Hailkit to whisper that."

I laugh as well. "All the other apprentices sure fell for it! Should we tell them?"

Silverpaw grins mischievously. "Nah. Let them worry about it when they're on guard. It'll make them more attentive, that's for sure!"

I glance up at the sky. "We should go see our mentors." Both of us pad out of the den. Dapplerock and Troutpelt are already waiting for us.

"What are we going to be doing today?" asks Silverpaw.

Dapplerock answers her question. "Well, we're going to patrol the border. I'm not sure what Troutpelt and Cloudpaw are going to do." She gives Troutpelt a questioning glance.

"I think I'll take Cloudpaw out to collect moss for the warriors den," he mews. "I found a tree that was covered with the stuff about two sunrises ago. But first, are either of you hungry?"

"Starving," I reply, and Silverpaw nods in agreement. We hadn't been able to eat after Silverpaw had finished telling the story. The apprentices had been too scared that 'my spirit' would have taken ours.

Moonpaw had been especially afraid. "You can't go out! The spirit is part of yours! It might want to reclaim the rest!" At the time, I had agreed. Now, though…

All four of us pad over to the freshkill pile. Silverpaw picks out a large salmon. "Want to share?" she asks. "I could never eat this whole thing by myself."

"Okay." Within moments, the salmon is gone. Stomach full, I'm ready to start the day.

"Now that you've eaten, let's head out to the woods." Troutpelt begins to walk to the exit of the camp, beckoning to me with a twitch of his tail. I follow him obediently.

Troutpelt leads me to a tree not too far away from the camp. "Okay. Collecting moss. You have to make sure not to get too close to the bark, or that'll be mixed in. Trust me, you do notwant to spend a night picking bark slivers out of a pile of moss. It's been rather dry lately, so you won't have to worry about moisture. Go ahead and give it a try. Oh, and unsheathe your claws as far as possible, so you can get the most amount of moss in one strike," he instructs. "Here, I'll demonstrate." Troutpelt unsheathes his claws and quickly swipes at the tree. A neat swath of moss falls at his paws.

Trying to keep everything in mind, I unsheathe my claws almost until it hurts. I swipe at the mossy surface of the fallen tree, and a somewhat small, very ragged piece of moss comes off.

"It's harder than it looks, huh?" Troutpelt mews, smiling. "Keep trying, you'll get better with practice."

It takes until it's nearly sunhigh, but my moss piles soon look almost as neat as my mentor's. "Now, let me show you how to hold it. You ball it up like this-" he rolls up a sheet of moss, compressing it as he does so "-and tuck it under your chin. With those smaller pieces, you can probably do two to a ball. You can also hold one in your mouth." Troutpelt demonstrates. "Hewe, twy id," he tries to tell me, and then realizes his mistake. He spits out the moss ball in his mouth, and repeats himself. "Here, try it."

It's tricky keeping the moss under my chin and pick up some in my mouth, but we're ready to head back to camp around sunhigh.

Back at camp (about 10 minutes after sunhigh)

"So, Cloudpaw, how was your day? I'm exhausted, trekking around the border took forever," Silverpaw complains.

"Okay. Learned how to collect moss. Not really sure how that helps me in anything but that," I mention.

Troutpelt overhears me. "Actually, you learned claw control, so you can kill prey more efficiently, and how to carry more prey at once."

"Huh. I didn't know that," Silverpaw mews. She starts to speak, and a teasing tone has entered her mew. "Mice of the forest, fear Cloudpaw, moss-gatherer!"

"Hey!" I cry in mock indignation.

"Anyways, I'm hungry again. Want to share something with me?" Silverpaw asks.

"Collecting moss, while useful for learning how to hunt prey, doesn't really make you want any," I reply. I do feel a bit peckish, but that can wait. "Looks like a hunting patrol came in, you'll have plenty to choose from."

Silverpaw walks over to the freshkill pile. I'm close enough that I can hear her muttering, "A few salmon, a trout, two mice, a finch…" she halts for a moment. "M-magpie?" Silverpaw stands shakily for a moment, then collapses.

"Silverpaw!" I rush over to her. She's muttering about something—mist? Wolves? I can just make out a few words, but they make no sense. A gorge, a forest, something that sounds like 'Vulpes'.

One sentence makes sense: "Enjoy the Dark Forest!" I shudder. The Dark Forest is a place for murders, traitors, the worst of the worst. Who did Silverpaw know that would have gone there? And why would she glory—for triumph, twisted triumph is in her meow—over it?. The other option—that Silverpaw belongs there herself—I block from my mind.

But now Silverpaw is up, running around, eyes closed, but looking for something she can't seem to find. She throws back her head and lets out a bloodcurdling howl—a sound I never knew could come from a cat and never wished to know it could.

I approach her carefully, but she snarls and swipes at me, claws unsheathed. I barely manage to duck the blow. What's happening? Silverpaw's fighting like she's a warrior, but we've only 'paws for a day! Silverpaw takes off again, eyes still slammed shut.

For a moment, she looks like she's about to slam into the reeds, but swerves and runs frantically, continuing to run without end. She sprints next to me, and skids to a halt. Her eyes snap open, and for a moment I'm relieved. Silverpaw, my Silverpaw is back.

But then I look into her eyes. The irises are blood red, and her pupils are a dark, dark black. A black that draws you in, so you can be captured by evil. A demonic grin is stretched across her face, distorting her beautiful features. I scrabble backwards frantically. She stalks me, slowly, carefully, deliberately. It—this, this thing is no longer Silverpaw—knows it will catch me. It will hurt me. It won't let me escape. "No, Silverpaw…"

It's barely more than a whisper. But I see her eyes return to their normal shade of blue. The evil is gone. Silverpaw is back. I nearly collapse from relief. But then I see her eyes have remained haunted.

I can just catch her whisper. "No, they were gone, they left. It shouldn't have happened!"

"Wh-what happened?" I stutter.

"I-it's nothing. My 'beautiful features'? 'Your' Silverpaw, huh?"

She's trying to be lighthearted, but it's not working. I never said that out loud, I didn't even realize I'd thought it. "Silverpaw, I never said that stuff. I only thought it—and even then I didn't realize I had."

She looks even more spooked, and I can hear her terror when she whispers again. "No. Not them. Even in the worst, it was never them." Suddenly realized I'd heard that, she tries to cover up. "I guess border patrol was more taxing than I'd thought. I-I'm going to take a nap."

Six moons later

I wake up and stretch. It seems much darker in the den than usual, and I look outside. It's nearly sunset! Alarmed, I'm about to rush out so I might be able to get some training in, but remember what happened yesterday. Streamstar had called us into his den, and told us our apprenticeship would end tomorrow—well, today, actually! Our mentors had spent extra time training us and had put us through our final assessments earlier that day. We were allowed to sleep in. I reach out a paw and tap Silverpaw gently. "Silverpaw, time to wake up. You want to look good for our warrior ceremony, right?"

Silverpaw sits up and yawns. She stops abruptly. "That's right! We'll be warriors later today!" She begins grooming her pelt with quick, graceful strokes. I do the same.

I look up after a few minutes to find Silverpaw practically chasing her tail. "Argh! It's been six moons and I still can't reach this one spot!"

I have to muffle a laugh. "Here, let me help." I notice that the fur around her scar is still ruffled—although you can no longer see the scar itself. The fur above it grew longer to cover it. "It's almost time for the ceremony. Let's head out."

Silverpaw and I leave the apprentice's den for the last time. Other cats are milling around—I recognize Moonflow and Ripplecreek. They had actually become full warriors just a few sunrises after we became apprentices. With amusement, I notice that they stay far away from the reed wall. I nudge Silverpaw with my tail. "Hey, look at Moonflow and Ripplecreek!"

Her gaze travels to them. "What about them? They're not doing anything—or going anywhere—special."

"It's not where they are going. It's where they aren't," I grin.

Silverpaw smiles as well when she realizes it. "Gosh, we scared them good! I'll have to tell Rainpaw and Hailpaw!"

"Definitely," I agree.

Our chatter is interrupted by Streamstar's call. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highstone for a Clan meeting!"

A hush descends as the thirty-some cats crowd around the Highstone. Streamstar begins to mew once again. "Today we are introducing two new warriors to the Clan. Silverpaw, Cloudpaw, would you please join me?"

Both Silverpaw and I pad up the path. Unfortunately, I fail to see that same little pebble I had tripped on before, and fall again. Silverpaw purrs in amusement, then lends a paw and helps me get back up. It seems like hours, but it's really only a few seconds until we're standing next to Streamstar. The leader of our Clan turns to me. "I, Streamstar, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn. Cloudpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect the clan, even at the Cost of your life?"

I swallow nervously. "I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Cloudpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Cloudflash. StarClan honors your loyalty and steadfastness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of LakeClan.

Streamstar rests his head on my shoulder, and I lick his shoulder respectfully. The blue-furred cat then turns to Silverpaw. "I, Streamstar, call upon my warrior apprentices to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Silverpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect the Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

I think I see something flicker in Silverpaw's eyes—sorrow? Regret? Pain?—but her voice rings out clear and steady. "I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Silverpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Silvermist."

For a moment, I see a flicker of red in Silvermist's eyes. No! She can't be having one of those, those...whatever they are, she can't be having one of them! Not in the middle of her warrior ceremony! I reach my tail over to her and gently tap her. She starts slightly, and her eyes clear. Thank StarClan.

Streamstar continues with the ceremony, unfazed by the disturbance. "StarClan honors your creativity and sense of humor, and we welcome you as a full warrior of LakeClan." He lowers his head to rest on Silvermist's shoulder, and she licks his shoulder respectfully.

Either unknowing, or unwilling to acknowledge Silvermist's momentary...whatever it is, the Clan chants our new names. "Cloudflash! Silvermist! Cloudflash! Silvermist!"

We make our way down to the clearing. Guess what? I trip on that pebble again. Silvermist laughs. "Let's hope you never become leader! You'd be black and blue from all the falling down!" She begins to sing something, "London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London bridge is falling down, my dear Cloudflash!"

"Again with this stuff!" I sigh, pretending to complain.

"Again, I have no idea where this comes from. I'm actually rather curious about it," Silvermist tells me.

A genius idea strikes me. "Well, you know what they say!"

"What?" Silvermist asks, nearly tripping herself. We've just exited Streamstar's den.

"Curiousity killed the cat!" I crow.

Silvermist, however, is ready for it. "Satisfaction brought her back!"

I groan and flop onto my stomach. "I just can't win, can I?"

"Nope," Silvermist replies, a bit too smug for my taste. "Get used to it, Cloudflash. Nice name, by the way."

"Thanks," I'm a bit taken aback by the unexpected compliment. "Yours is pretty nice too."

"Not really." Silvermist's response surprises me.

"Why not?"

"It's nothing. We're almost at the warriors den, you should start thinking of a scary story." Silvermist deflects the question.

"Let me guess. You've spied on them, too?"

"Yep! I've already got one." The words, although spoken cheerfully, sadden her, seem to weigh her down. "You could tell them about that...flashback, if you like," she offers hesitantly.

"Is that what it was? How could you have memories like that, though? Seriously, you've been with us since birth!"

"I'll tell you about that later." Silvermist's mew has turned cold abruptly.

We enter the warriors den a few moments later. "You guys know the drill," Moonflow tells us. "Although, every warrior tells a different story."

"Okay. I'll start." I pause for a moment. "It has to be a true story, right?"

"Yeah. You can embellish it a bit, though, if need be," Ripplecreek answers.

"Got it." With that, I launch into the story of Silvermist's flashback, as she calls it. I don't bother exaggerating anything, the story is scary enough.

All the cats look shaken when I'm done. "I-is that really a true story?" asks timid Flowingstep.

"Yeah," I reply.

Everyone turns to look at Silvermist. "H-how come that h-happened?" Flowingstep wonders.

"I'll tell you about it. Now, this story does sound pretty unbelievable, but I swear by StarClan it's the truth. Cloudflash, you've noticed how I've had memories of other places, other things, even though I've seemed to live here almost since birth. Well, before, I was a full-grown cat, a loner in a forest called the Vulpes Saltus. I lived in a den with space enough for me and one other cat, if I ever took a mate. I never did. My name, Silvermist? Mist was a cat I knew in the Vulpes Saltus. She was the only cat I was friends with, and we met at that den—I had just killed a squirrel, and was carrying it to the den. When I got there, Mist was sniffing around. She was clearly weak and hungry. I took pity on her and gave her the squirrel. She ate it gratefully, saying she was starving, and the last thing she'd had to eat was a woodmouse a week ago. Well, as she was near death, I didn't need to be afraid of her, and we became friends in the moon it took for her to get better. We slept together in the den, hunted together, everything.

"About a year after we met, we split up to go hunting. I lost the trail I had, and went back to the den to wait for Mist. While I was there, I must have fallen asleep, and had the strangest dream. A blue-gray cat, my mother, just with a different pelt color, was leaning over me, and gave me a prophecy:

'The precious one will be betrayed,
And until she learns her loved one stayed,
So to forgive her, she will not trust,
Until rivers run red, and kill she must'.

My mother started another sentence: 'And Silver, don't forget-'. I woke up before she was able to finish.

"I was woken by Mist. By her scream of terror. I ran as fast as I could towards her, and saw Mist running from this pack of wolves, only fiercer than any I've seen before. They had something unearthly about them, something not quite right. They ran through brambles without getting a scratch, leaped over tall logs without any effort. I realized what was wrong with them. All of them were identical. Down to the last hair on their pelt, the way they moved, the barks they made-identical. When one leaped, all leaped. When one barked, all barked. When one killed" Silvermist shivers, "all killed. I knew that they would never tire, never hunger, never thirst. Mist would run forever. If she could.

"I caught up to her, but in her fear, she saw me as just another enemy. She bit me, right on my forehead, and left a scar that will remind me of her to this day." She lifts the fur on her forehead with a paw, revealing that mist-colored scar in the shape of a perfect star. With a shiver myself, I remember the day we were apprenticed. "It haunts me every time I go to drink.

"But I kept trying to help her, more cautiously. She realized it was me at last. We ran together against the wolf pack. But we were getting tired. I branched off to distract them, but they weren't after me. They were after Mist. I could tell Mist was getting more and more tired, more and more hungry, thirstier and thirstier. But she just...kept...running.

"These wolves cast some sort of enchantment, I realized. Their prey would run forever, getting thirstier, hungrier, more tired, if they didn't catch them. And they wouldn't catch them until they were sure that their prey would become a living corpse, running, running, soon anyways. Horrified, I did the only thing I could to help Mist."

Silvermist pauses for a long moment. "I shoved her into the gorge. I knew that the death caused by the fall would be far quicker, far more merciful, then the death those wolves would give her. But she didn't know that.

"As she fell, she hissed with hatred, 'Enjoy the Dark Forest!' I don't know what that means, maybe I never will. But the look in her eyes, it haunts me to this day. The pack jumped in after her. They should have drowned. But they didn't. They swam, effortlessly, identically, to where my friend's corpse floated. I knew they would only take flesh that was fresh. I knew that they would only take flesh they had killed themselves. They swam on.

"Every night, I dream of Mist. It had stopped when I came here, came to this Clan, but then they came back. Cloudflash told you about that. I dream I am her, that I am running from the mutts. I wake far from the place I went to sleep. It was vever as far as this, though, always in the Vulpes Saltus. I dream of her face, that look she gave me as I pushed her to her death. I dream the same thing over and over again. But the thing that disturbs me most is how I knew what the pack would do. I understand them. I am like them, I killed like them, I dream of them, dream of joining them, for death is better than running and running and running...But Mist didn't understand them. She didn't know them. She wasn't like them.

"One last thing. The mutts' fur? Black. Black as mine, black as my heart." Silvermist curls up. "Don't let me leave the den. Hurt me if you have to, but don't let me leave this place. I'll never come back again." She drifts off to sleep, her peaceful breathing defying the dreams I know she is having.

"Oh, Silvermist…" I murmur. "I never knew…"

*sneaks up and jumps on top of Cloudflash* RAWR!
Aah! Hey! Why'd you do that?
Well, last time Silver did the disclaimer, and you did the claimer, so I thought I'd switch it up.
Do you have to pick on me every time? Let me guess, Silver's going to do the claimer.
Actually, no. Ripplecreek is.
Why not have Moonpath do the disclaimer, then? And spare me and Silver?
Because I don't like Moonpath, and I choose to spare Silver because I like her better.
Hey!
You know you were invented only as a cat that has a crush on Silver, and you became a main, well, somewhat main character accidentally.
For once, I'll agree with the I-have-a-crush-on-Silver statement.
And it's only because you practically admitted it earlier in the chapter. But, hey, now you guys are warriors.
So? You know what, I'm not even going to let you answer that. I think I'll just do the disclaimer and get this over with. Moonmist18 does not own Warriors, if she did, Crowfeather would be dead and happy in StarClan with Feathertail. She doesn't own anything else you may recognize, unless it's from earlier in the story. That seems obvious, doesn't it?
*poofs him away*
*as he's fading out* Hey!

*sneaks up behind Ripplecreek* Hi!
*jumps* Aah! What do you want?
*hands her paper with claimer on it* Read this. Wait, hang on. *grants her the ability to read*
*scans it* Okay. *clears throat* Moonmist 18 does own Silver, Mist, the Dark Wolves, LakeClan, GustClan, StormClan, and ShadeClan.
Wow. You're cooperative. Wish Silver and Cloudflash were like that. You have my permission to leave.
*leaves*
*is able to mind-talk to Cloudflash* See, Ripplecreek cooperated and was out of here within seven lines. You took fourteen. Double the lines. Actually, you took even more than that, if you count each actual line as a line, instead of each of us talking.