Has anyone noticed my new avatar picture? XD I found the line art on devianart and I colored it in using SAI Paint Studios… super fun and super easy! XD

Okay, thanks to all of you amazing people who read, favorite, follow, comment, and support me and this story… I'm sort of going through some tough times right now so I really love you guys and your faithfulness! XD I'm so emotional right now…

Okay, for a reward, I will do another interview! But YOU GUYS HAVE TO GIVE ME THE QUESTIONS TO ASK! Oh, and any cats u want to be in the interview, of course

TO SMOKEBLADE: I am going to use ur cat, but I couldn't use Smokeblade because I don't think the cats know what a blade is :-* so, I did the next best thing; sorry if it was offensive or anything!

Okay, N'Joy!

Emberwing was in a great mood. Her friends, Beetleeyes and Troutclaw, all newly made warriors for Riverclan, were half way through their silent vigil. Before they sat down for their night of listening, her and Troutclaw… she was so happy that he loved her back. They had spent the rest of their time playing, acting like kits and chasing each other. Starclan must be looking down on her, despite her training in the Darkforest. In truth, Emberwing respected both types of spirits equally; she looked up to her warrior ancestors and followed the warrior code, but at the same time, the Darkforest had given her the chance to become even stronger, and she didn't mind spilling a little blood, like any other warrior.

As Silverdust had said, training with your claws sheathed could only teach you so much.

The nights were getting down right chilly, frost tracing patterns around the three motionless warriors' paws. They were all shivering, and Emberwing's heart stuttered as Troutclaw's cool pelt pressed against hers for warmth. Would these warm feelings ever stop?

As Emberwing looked to the frosty sky where her ancestors shone in the sky, she realized she didn't really want them to.

Starclan

Smokeclaws paced back and forth, looking as the dark, blood covered cats took even more of their hunting grounds.

"We can't just stand here with our tails between our legs and do nothing!" she hissed, lashing her tail at Smallbelly and Tornheart, the leaders of the battle patrol, who wore identical looks of defeat.

"You have fought bravely, Smokeclaws, but there is nothing more we can do," Smallbelly's deep voice spoke sadly, looking at the scene below him with cloudy eyes.

Those filthy Darkforest cats were swarming the series of dens and streams at the bottem of the hill. They washed themselves in the rivers, turning them the colors of Starclan blood. The Darkforest was getting too strong, but Starclan was strong too! Smokeclaws had been so sure… they had brought their best fighters, Rainfall, Deepwound, Birdbeak, Eaglefeathers, even Scarredface, who was one of the oldest cats in Starclan that had yet to fade away.

What had gone wrong? Smokeclaws ran her mind over the battle, but she flound herself growing dizzy from fatigue.

"We came with ten cats, Smokeclaws; they have hundreds of willing, even happy clan cats as well as the regular Darkforest cats. Just face it, they won," Muttered Tornheart, turning away at the long legged, smoky grey she-cats' intense glare.

"No! I refuse to give up my home again!" Smokeclaws had been from the long lost Skyclan, and had died on the long travel for them to find a new home. She had left a mate, kits, and a clan behind, and even though she saw them all again, Starclan was such a large place, every time you went to sleep, you woke somewhere different. Unless you were summoned by one of the Starclan leaders, you just drifted, meeting new cats and eventually just wishing everyday would end, not even taking in your surroundings. She never saw any of them after the one time, ever again.

Starclan wasn't the great place she had been told about as a kit; not anymore.

Ignoring the pleads from her fellow Starclan warriors, she padded down the steep slope to the blood bathed cats who had messed with the wrong cat.

"My, my, what do we have here? Have you came to beg for your land back?" a pitch black warrior growled, blood making his fur clumped and stick out at odd angles. His eyes were a red amber, and Smokeclaws tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling from being smaller than this dark warrior, with her long legs she was usually taller than every other cat.

"Well?" the black and red tom prompted, sitting back on his haunches like she was no threat, and started licking one of his paws.

It was when he prompted her that she realized she didn't have a plan. In her rage, she had padded down here, and now she was stuck!

"if you're going to plead, it should go like this: 'oh, please all great and mighty Black! Please, let me and my pathetic, poor excuse for a warrior cats reclaim our hunting grounds!'"

This tom was so full of himself! Smokeclaws wanted to cuff this idiot cat and set him into place with her claws, but she knew that if she attacked, she would have countless pawfuls of Darkforest cats pounce on her.

"I-I came to speak with your leader," She managed to choke out around this tom's carrion-smelling breath.

The tom, Black, snorted. "What? You don't deserve to be in the presence of our leader! From how you cats fought, she eats stronger prey!"

Smokeclaws was searching for a sharp retort when the background noises of the Darkforest cats was silenced, and a glowing silver cat padded through the clearing towards the two cats.

"Thank you for that, Black, but if the tiny warrior wishes to speak with me, she may."

Black, his neck bent in a disgusting show of submission, scowled but was smart and didn't say anything.

Tiny?! Smokeclaws' mind spun, outraged. She wasn't tiny! She was probably taller than she she-cat if she hadn't been floating half a tail-length off the ground!

"So, what do you wish to say to me?" the silver-white she-cat spoke, bringing Smokeclaws back to the present.

"Why do you and your… warriors have to take our land? Is the Darkforest not enough for you anymore?"

The she-cat's blood red eyes seemed to flare, furious. She floated down, and went right to being nose-to-nose with the startled smoky grey cat.

"No, it isn't enough, actually. Since we are training so many cats, we have to be ready to accommodate more of them when they die." Her tone was one of speaking to a naughty kit.

Smokeclaws went to open her mouth when long, wicked claws pressed against her throat.

"Now, since you got what you wanted to hear, go run along to your home, while it's still yours."

With that, she again floating silver leader spun Smokeclaws around by the claws sunk into her grey neck, and flung her to the base of the hill.

Coughing, Smokeclaws was dragged herself to her paws with the help of her useless warrior comrades.

"You'll pay for this, I swear on my life!" the heavily bleeding Starclan cat hissed, and to her intence irritation, the blood covered cats all cackled.

The silver she-cat spoke with a voice softer than down feathers. "Honey, don't you know that you're dead?"

After that, Smokeclaws felt the invasion of poppy seeds onto her tongue, and everything faded away, to appear somewhere new the next day, alive but wishing for different.

You guys like? XD that was for Smokeblade27, and I hope I portrayed that Starclan isint all that and a bag of chips…

COMMENT QUESTIONS YOU WANT TO BE ASKED IN THE UPCOMING INTERVIEW! XD (and cats too)

Till next time,

Emberfall