A/N: I made a little mistake while publishing this chapter, my apologies. :P

Chapter 1

Tyler scanned the clearing, whiskers twitching. This place was unfamiliar, yet eerily recognizable. Had he been here before? Yet he remembered not a single tree nor blade of grass. He padded forward, hesitant yet determined.

His belly roared and he felt a pang in his stomach. Immediately a juicy scent invaded his nostrils; the unmistakable smell of mouse. His eyes widened in excitement as his tail fluffed up, he could barely control the chirps coming out of his saliva-filled muzzle. Hearing a rustle nearby, he crouched, the rustle of leaves alerting prey of its presence. As soon as he saw the soft, round ears, Tyler sprung, unable to hold back impatience. The mouse rose his head above the grass, and in a heartbeat it bolted away. The tabby cat landed on his face, swallowing dirt.

Tyler blinked his eyes open. Away from the coldness of the forest, he was inside the kitchen of his housefolk, safe and cozy. That mouse hunt was only a dream, yet it had been perturbing his sleep rather frequently. If there was anything that all dreams had in common, it were the unfamiliar feelings he got each time he appeared in a new location. That, and how he always failed the catch. It could be a mouse, a rat, or a bird; something would happen to make his prey escape from his claws.

He unsheathed them. His claws were unnaturally wrong; he stared at them with shiny eyes. If he only knew how to fight, how to hunt, if he could do it perfectly… he would be unmatched. All other cats—no, all other animals, would respect and fear him.

He let out a sigh. For now, his hunger would be satisfied with the pellets his housefolk left for him. They tasted alright, to him. But all his instincts told him he should be outside, eating flesh out of a mouse, blood dripping from his muzzle. This food could never compare to that feeling.

Outside, it was raining. Naturally, that meant the windows were locked, and the housefolk would be somewhere inside the house, safe from the rain, aware that no cat would dare step into the water. Tyler curled his lip, disgusted. If there was any day he wished to go outside, it was today. He couldn't bear another day without having a taste of a fresh kill. Shivering, he walked through the cat flap installed at the main door. The rain damped his fur slowly, it luckily wasn't a heavy rain, but the dark clouds threatened a thunderstorm.

Leaping onto the fence, Tyler's amber eyes stared around the place. Perhaps a blessing, his housefolk's home was right next to the forest where wild cats were rumored to live. Often he imagined his paws carrying him to the heart of their territory, them staring in awe at the possible new best hunter the forest had seen in moons. He closed his eyes, allowing the fresh scent of damp leaf to drift over to his nose.

Ignoring his housefolk's calls, the sturdy feline leaped down, his strong paws sinking into the mud. He lifted them with disgust.

"Off for a late walk, Tyler?" the familiar voice jolted him away from his thoughts. Tyler turned his head around, looking up at the plump black-and-white cat resting on his neighboring fence.

"None of your business, Smudge," Tyler growled. He wanted nothing to do with this fat lazy cat. All other cats only care about gossiping with each other; Tyler just wanted to live peacefully without other cats judging him. To him, Smudge was the worst. "Leave me alone."

"Oh, don't be like that!" the neighbor replied, eyes widening. "Are you going into the woods? That's dangerous! I'd never go in there."

"Of course you wouldn't," Tyler scoffed. "Too scared of some little trees? The woods are inviting to real cats, like myself."

"Well… don't say I didn't warn you," Smudge spat back, rolling his eyes. "If you don't come back, at least your housefolk might get a friendlier cat next time!"

Tyler ignored him and kept walking forward. In his mind, he was already complaining about Smudge's nosiness, but those feelings were quickly replaced by excitement as he crossed the line between the town and the forest. The bell on his collar made noise as he walked, forcing him to be more stiff in his movements. The rain was still falling, stronger now, yet he hoped at least one small animal would be doing some final preparations before going into hiding. He crouched, listening, smelling, watching. All of his sensed heightened; it was a blissful feeling, the feeling of a hunter. He had only felt it in his dreams, but this was real. Although he hadn't found any prey yet, the expectations sent an adrenaline rush throughout his body.

Suddenly, the leaves rustled. His ears perked up and he licked his lips. F-Finally! he thought, trembling with excitement. Tyler took a soft step forward, then lifted his paw. But he hesitated; this scent was different. And as a furry tail appeared above the bushes, he realized: this was no mouse.

It was a cat.

Tyler kept low to the ground, but the tail's movements alerted him that the attacker was aware of his presence. His instincts were already on fight-or-flight mode, yet his pride would never allow his paws to be used for fleeing. Tyler stood his ground, hissing fiercely, roaring like a tiger. He could tell the cat was surprised by the sudden twitch of its tail. Taking that golden opportunity, Tyler sprung forward, knocking out the enemy.

He did not expect such resistance. The other cat, who's pelt was dark grey and fluffy, immediately clawed at Tyler's muzzle, knocking him back. He shook his head, and immediately launched for a second attack. His long claws only scraped the gray cat's fur, as the tom managed to stand on his back paws and keep Tyler at a distance. Then, with his strong muscles, the enemy pushed Tyler back, making him fall on his back, his belly exposed. With blood-shot eyes, he hissed and kept clawing with his front claws; yet the gray cat only had to back his head away as he pinned the aggressive tabby to the ground with a paw.

As the tom smirked, he backed away, allowing Tyler to stand up. He sat down, licking his paws, and stared at the intruder with a soft smile.

"Wow! You are quite strong… for a kittypet, I mean," he meowed. Now Tyler had a good look of him—dark gray, long fur, a darker stripe running along his back, but most importantly: broad shoulder, strong muscles. Yet his size was roughly the same as his'; this was merely another kitten. "By the way, I'm Graypaw!"

I don't remember asking for your name, Tyler thought, his pride hurt. However, he had to admit, when he looked at this confident wild cat he felt a rush of admiration. Fighting with the cats around his housefolk home was getting boring.

"What's a kittypet doing here in the woods?" Graypaw continued, ignoring Tyler's silence. "It can be pretty dangerous. You should go back."

Tyler snorted. "I'm the strongest back there, I can handle anything this forest throws at me."

Graypaw raised an eyebrow. "The forest is nothing like your Twolegplace. You're lucky you didn't end up in ShadowClan, or that I'm not a warrior yet. You wouldn't be so happy if that happened!"

"ShadowClan?" Tyler repeated, curious. The name made him shiver; he could picture ferocious cats hiding in the shadows, much stronger than anything he'd ever seen.

Graypaw just sighed. "ShadowClan, they're one of the four Clans of the forest. I am from ThunderClan! All the other Clans are always trying to steal prey from us."

The strongest ones get the food, Tyler reasoned. He couldn't say that to Graypaw thought; admittedly, his story was intriguing.

"And you're not a warrior?"

"Did you think I was?" Graypaw purred with delight. "No, tonight is my first night out as an apprentice. We have to train for moons to become warriors!"

Tyler's eyes glinted. Graypaw was only recently made an apprentice, yet he was already this strong. If he could be an apprentice, too…

"Anyway," the kitten continued, "you should now go to your Twolegs. I feel bad for you though, having to sleep in weird Twoleg beds and eating strange Twoleg food. I'll never understand why kittypets love that."

"Not me!" Tyler interrupted. "I'd much rather stay here in the forest!"

Graypaw eyed him strangely. "You weren't born wild, though. I don't think you know what it means to be a wild cat." He ignored Tyler's scorning look and sniffed the air. "But you should really go back. I smell someone from my Clan is nearby, they won't be pleased to see you here."

Tyler didn't move; he sniffed the air. There was nothing unusual he could gather. Just damp leaves and moss.

"Run!" Graypaw hissed.

"Why?" Tyler retorted. He wasn't leaving yet. Not before he catch anything.

Too late, the leaves behind Graypaw rustled. From the bushes emerged a beautiful silver cat with unusual deep blue eyes. She was taller than Graypaw and had an aura of dignity around her.

"What's going on here?" Her meow was just as strong and elegant as her appearance. Tyler felt hesitant now.

"Bluestar!" Graypaw meowed, as he lowered his head. He lowered it more as a second cat—this time, a golden tabby—appeared just behind Bluestar.

"Graypaw, you shouldn't be so near Twolegplace," the tabby meowed, angrily at the apprentice.

"I know, Lionheart. I'm sorry."

Tyler was surprised. All of Graypaws confidence had evaporated as soon as these cats appeared. He suddenly felt the need to crouch, dipping his head just as Graypaw had done. These cats seemed much stronger than anything he had seen around his cozy home; maybe, Smudge was right about the forest. And he was glad about it.

"Who is this?" Bluestar inquired, her gaze piercing the tabby kitten in front of her.

"Oh, just a Twoleg pet. He's not a threat," Graypaw told her hurriedly. His words made Tyler's fur bristle, yet he said nothing. It was much easier to fight the confident apprentice than two adult warriors, he was painfully aware of that. His muzzle stung, reminding him even Graypaw could be dangerous, if only he didn't underestimate kittypets.

"Sit up, both of you," Bluestar ordered. The two kittens obeyed, Tyler raised his head defiantly. Graypaw might see him as just a Twoleg pet, but he was determined to prove himself to Bluestar. "You fought well, kittypet."

Both Graypaw and Tyler raised their ears in shock. "You were watching?"

The leader purred. "We wanted to see how you would react to an attack, Graypaw. You fought well."

Tyler could see Graypaw's legs shift in embarrassment. Being praised by his own leader must be an honor, he thought.

"As for you, kittypet. You do have a strong fighting spirit," Bluestar commented. "Instead of running away, you attacked with no hesitation or fear. I've never seen a kittypet do that before."

Was that praise, or worry, coming out of the leader's words? He didn't care though, Tyler's chest puffed out with pride. A wild cat had seen his strength with her own two eyes. Her following words surprised him more.

"We often patrol this border. We've seen you there, at your usual Twolegplace spot, staring into the forest, wondering if you'd ever find the courage to step into our territory. At last, you made up your mind." Her eyes scanned him, curiously. "You seem to be made for battle. Broad shoulders, sharp claws. If you manage to control your impatience, you would turn into a fine hunter."

"Really?!" Tyler almost leaped in excitement, but when Lionheart spoke, his eyes turned icy cold.

"Bluestar, this is a kittypet! He should be going back to his Twoleg home, where he belongs, not hunting in ThunderClan territory!"

"What? No!" Tyler hissed to the golden warrior. "All I wanted was to try a single kill, to feel like a real cat!" Lionheart held his gaze, unflinching. "I'm not a kittypet!" he hissed with a ferocity that made Bluestar's eyes widen.

Lionheart's eyes met hers. He could tell she was as surprised yet impressed as he was.

"You're an unusual kittypet," Bluestar commented. "What's your name?"

The tabby backed away from Lionheart, meeting Bluestar's gaze. "Tyler."

"Tyler," the leader repeated meaningfully, "your inner strength needs training. Would you like to join ThunderClan?"

Graypaw and Lionheart stared at her quizzically. "He can't! He doesn't even have warrior blood!" Graypaw protested.

"Warrior blood… too much of it has been spilled recently," Bluestar commented with a sigh. He addressed Tyler again. "There's more to being a warrior than pure strength. It takes discipline, patience. ThunderClan could teach you these qualities—you could become a formidable warrior, if you respect our ways."

"Bluestar is only offering you training, young one," Lionheart interjected. "There's no guarantee you will become a full warrior. You're used to a comfortable life alongside Twolegs, after all; the life of a warrior is nothing like that."

Tyler turned his head to face the golden warrior. The audacity he had! One day, I'll be a warrior much better than you'll ever be!

He could tell Bluestar was about to open her mouth, but Tyler interrupted. "I will do it. I will train to become a warrior!"

Bluestar and Lionheart stared at each other. "Understand that the forest can be cruel at times. Leaf-bare is particularly difficult for the Clan. There are many mouths to feed. You will need to give your life for the Clan, if it's necessary. There are many rewards to come with living as a wild tom, however…"

"I already made up my mind," Tyler interrupted. "I will join your Clan!"

Bluestar was silent, but after some moments, she seemed pleased. "Lionheart will come for you tomorrow at sunhigh. Be ready."