Fox padded over the uneven ground, barely aware of his sisters and brother next to him as he walked. He thought of how he had come to be there for a moment, remembering Rusty telling them all about how he had gone into the forest with Miroh and met some wildcats, and then been invited to join them! He had said he'd think about it, and he told them he would go and would love it if they would come as well. Naturally, they all agreed. Fox snapped out of his thoughts, unable to hold them in his head for long. The sounds and scents of the forest were too distracting - the alarm call of a crow, the sharp smell of plants, the rough bark of the trees around him, the dappled lighting over the grassy forest floor. It was all so beautiful and strange, and he was so focused on it that he didn't realize Rusty was saying his name until the third call.

"Fox? You still there?" he said, his ginger fur bushing slightly. Fox nodded, and he relaxed. "Good. We're almost there - come on. And try not to get distracted." Fox nodded, already too distracted by a flower to pay attention. It was a beautiful golden color, and it grew in patches over here. By the a strong, sweet scent that flooded his nose, he could tell it was tansy. It smelled wonderful! He saw his siblings padding ahead of him, and resolved to take some with him, nipping off a stem and then following them. They quickly reached a clearing, where he dropped his flower and noticed the sent of cat lingering from a night before; three cats, one an old she-cat, another a young tom, and one an older tom, not as old as the she-cat. The older tom's scent was fresher than that of the previous cats, and Fox could tell he was nearby. The slight rustle of a bush as fur stood on end made him turn around to see a pair of green eyes glaring from a bush behind them.

"Rusty!" he whispered, moving closer to his brother, who pressed against him in turn and whispered something comforting. Now he was pushed further on edge, and he scented another cat, one who hadn't been here for a while before today. Glancing around, he saw a flash of white underneath another bush. He scented the air again and could find no traces of other cats around.

"You have a good nose, young one," said the cat with green eyes, and Fox shivered when he realized they were directed at him. "How many cats are with me?"

"Uh, just the white one - over there." Fox nodded in the direction of the white cat, whose yellow eyes he could now see. "And you don't have to be afraid of us - Miroh's probably the only one who'd attack you, and only if you attacked one of us." As he spoke, he flicked his tail in Miroh's direction, ignoring the surprise in the eyes of everyone around him.

"Interesting," said the green-eyed one, stepping into the light. Fox could now see that he was a large golden tabby with thick fur around his neck, like a lion's mane. "How could you tell I was on edge?"

"I could hear your fur bristling - and that's how I found you. Him I found because of his white fur. He moved into the sun for a moment, just long enough for me to tell the color wasn't part of some plant." The golden tom's eyes sparked with interest, and the rare amazement from Sarah filled Fox with pride.

"And you, Rusty? What did you scent?"

Rusty looked away sheepishly. "I could scent Bluestar and Graypaw and you, but not your friend, and I couldn't tell you were here until Fox startled. He's good at telling what's around him."

"You have much to learn. I assume you will learn it quickly. This is Whitestorm, one of ThunderClan's senior warriors," the golden tom purred as Whitestorm stepped into the light as well; a long, muscular warrior with thick fur who made Fox even more nervous than the other did. "And Rusty already knows that I am Lionheart." Lionheart nodded at Rusty.

"I'm Miroh, by the way. This is Sarah, Fox." Miroh stood up taller, head tilted up and to the side so she could look askance and down her nose at the warriors.

Lionheart nodded, though he looked slightly unhappy under Miroh's glare. "Come, we can speak more once we are in camp," he ordered, and without pausing, both warriors leaped away into the undergrowth. Rusty and Miroh quickly followed him, with Sarah nudging Fox forward before following close behind. With a sigh, Fox picked up his flower and ran after them.

While most cats his age were almost at their full size, Fox had always been quite small and was nearly half the size of Rusty, who was also a bit smaller than Miroh. Because of this, he quickly fell behind even Rusty, who had never been very athletic and got tired easily. Despite their obvious trouble, Whitestorm and Lionheart dashed through the woods at full speed, making no allowances for any of them. Their pace barely slowed as they leapt over fallen trees that Fox had to scramble over paw by paw. They passed between sharp-smelling pine trees, where they had to jump across deep gullies made by housefolk tree-cutters. Fox had heard them roaring many times from the safety of his garden fence. One gullly was too wide to jump, so the two Clan cats waded through without hesitating. Rusty grimaced before wading through, ears flat in disgust. Sarah followed, fur bristling but obviously making an effort not to show weakness. Miroh followed as well, grumbling.

With a dispairing sigh, Fox slid into the slimy water, shuddering as something underneath touched his leg. He held his head high to keep the flower away from the foul-smelling liquid, wanting to preserve the scent. But once they were out, it was back to running.

At last, Lionheart and Whitestorm paused. The four cats skidded to a halt behind them, Sarah standing tall while the other three were panting hard. The two warriors stepped onto a rock that edged a small ravine.

"We are very close to camp now," mewed Lionheart. "Rusty, what do you smell?"

"I can smell cats," he responded confidently. Lionheart and Whitestorm shared an amused glance and Fox couldn't help but snicker, earning a glare from Rusty that shut him up quickly.

"Miroh?"

"A lot of cats. Two I recognize; the ones who were in the clearing." Lionheart nodded.

"Sarah?"

"Same. But I can also smell milk, which means nursing queens," the large she-cat mewed nonchalantly. Lionheart nodded again.

"Fox?"

Fox dropped his flower, took a deep breath, and looked over the ravine. "A lot of cats. Bluestar and Graypaw, I think Rusty said their names were. Nursing queens. Old cats. Prey blood. An annoyed tom and a frustrated she-cat. Someone's worried."

"Good, all of you. There will come a time, if you are accepted into the Clan, when you can recognize each cat scent by name," Lionheart meowed.

"Wait, IF? If it's just a possibility that we'll be accepted, why are we even here?" Miroh protested.

Lionheart gave her an impatient glare. "Specifically because there is a possibility you will be accepted. Now, follow me and you can see our camp." He leapt nimbly down to a boulder on the side of the ravine, then looked up to see who would follow. Miroh snorted but went to stand next to him, while Sarah didn't even hesitate before jumping down with a light thump. Rusty followed quickly, and Fox surveyed the path ahead of them before carefully moving to stand next to them. With a nod, he lead the way nimbly down the ravine and pushed his way through a thick patch of gorse. Rusty led his siblings after him, while Whitestorm brought up the rear. Fox's side barely touched the side of the gorse, and as he looked down at the grass flattened into a broad, strong-smelling path through it, he realized this must be the main entrance to the camp.

Beyond the gorse, a large clearing opened before his eyes. Small groups of cats were everywhere, sharing prey or purring as they washed one another.

"Just after sunhigh, when the day is warmest, is a time for sharing tongues," Lionheart explained. Sarah and Miroh nodded thoughtfully, while Rusty looked up at him questioningly.

"Sharing tongues?" he echoed.

"Clan cats always spend time grooming each other and sharing the news of the day," Whitestorm told him. "We call it sharing tongues. It is a custom that binds the members of the Clan together.

As Fox looked around, he felt the need to ignore the growing number of stares pointed at the newcomers. He avoided their gazes, instead examining the edge of thick grass, dotted with treestumps and a fallen tree. A thick curtain of ferns and gorse shielded the camp from the rest of the woods.

"Over there," meowed Lionheart, flicking his tail toward a large tangle of brambles, "is the nursery, where the queens live and the kits are cared for."

Fox turned to the bushes. He couldn't see anything through the thick wall, though he could hear the mewling of several kits inside. A ginger she-cat squirmed out through a small gap in the front, meeting a tabby queen with distinctive black markings and exchanging a friendly lick between the ears before the tabby slipped inside the nursery, murmuring to the kits.

"The care of out kits is shared by all of the queens," mewed Lionheart. "All cats serve the Clan. Loyalty to the Clan is the first law in our warrior code, a lesson you must learn quickly if you wish to stay with us."

He earned a disapproving hiss from Sarah and an angered question from Miroh. "All the queens?"

Whitestorm purred in amusement. "Only those expecting or nursing their own kits, as well as those few who chose to give up their warrior duties for that task."

Miroh nodded, satisfied, while Sarah turned to look at a pile of boulders in the center of the clearing. "What's that?"

"The Highrock, and Bluestar's den. Speak of mice," Lionheart muttered.

Fox noticed Rusty sniffing the air, then assuming a pleased expression. He sniffed the air as well, though he only noticed the scent of his flower. A gray she-cat appeared from the shadow of the Highrock, her expression pleased and quickly turning to confused.

"He brought friends," she commented, shooting Lionheart a questioning look.

"His brother and sisters," he answered.

The cat, who Fox assumed was Bluestar, nodded. "What do you think of him - them?"

"They kept up well on the journey, despite this one's" - Lionheart flicked his tail at Fox - "puny size, and Rusty's obvious lack of breath. They certainly seem strong for kittypets."

Sarah growled, earning the attention of all three warriors. "I'm not a kittypet. I may be their sister and live in their garden, but I hunt for myself."

Bluestar's eyes shone with a new respect. "Interesting. And what are your names?" This question was directed at the newcomers themselves.

"I'm Miroh."

"Blaze," Sarah said. Fox, Rusty, and Miroh all gave her a unified questioning look. She glared at them in return.

Shaking his head, Fox put his flower down and spoke. "I'm Fox. And I am the same age as them, even though I'm small. That's just how I am."

Bluestar nodded, then looked at Lionheart and Whitestorm. "So it is agreed?"

Both cats nodded in return.

"Then I shall announce their arrival to the Clan." Bluestar leaped up onto the Highrock and yowled, "Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting."

Her call brought all the cats moving toward her, emerging from the edges of the clearing. Fox and his siblings stayed where they were, flanked by Lionheart and Whitestorm. Everyone else settled below the Highrock and looked expectantly up at their leader.

Fox saw Rusty sharing a relieved glance with a fluffy gray tom among the crowd. Beside him sat a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat, her black-tipped tail tucked neatly over small white paws. A large dark gray tabby crouched on the other side, his black stripes swirling over his fur like branch shadows on a windless night.

When the crows stilled, Bluestar spoke. "ThunderClan needs more warriors," she began. "Never before have we had so few apprentices in training. It has been decided that ThunderClan will take in outsiders to train as warriors. . ."

Fox heard indignant mutters erupt from the crowd, but Bluestar silenced them with a firm yowl. "I have found cats who are willing to become cats of ThunderClan."

"Lucky to become Clanmates!" A yowl rose above the wave of shock that spread through the cats.

Rusty craned his neck to find the offender, and Fox followed his gaze to see a pale tabby tom standing up and glaring defiantly at the leader. Miroh was bristling and looked almost prepared to leap at him and claw him. Sarah just gave him a death glare and started to wash her paws.

She ignored him, however, and adressed the rest of her Clan. "Lionheart and Whitestorm have met these cats, and they agree with me that we should take them in."

Fox looked over the Clan to find all eyes on him and his siblings. His fur prickled and he shuffled his paws anxiously. There was silence for only a moment, during which Fox saw Miroh still glaring at the tabby, Sarah still washing her paws, and Rusty staring nervously around.

Then a deafening chorus of caterwauling arose from the gathered cats.

"Where do they come from?"

"Which Clan do they belong to?"

"What a strange scent thay carry! That's not the scent of any Clan I know!"

Then the tabby yowled above the crowd again. "Look at that one's collar! He's a kittypet! Once a kittypet, always a kittypet. This Clan needs wildborn warriors to defend it, not another soft mouth to feed. And I bet the others are rogues! You can never trust a rogue, you know. They'll abandon you soon as they hear a battle cry!" Fox glared at him. The only reason he didn't wear a collar was because he had somehow lost his everytime the housefolk had put one on, and Miroh had fought them whenever they tried to put one on her. Eventually, they just gave up on both of them.

Lionheart leaned over and whispered to Rusty, "That tabby is Longtail. He smells your fear. They all do. You must prove to him and the othercats that your fear won't hold you back."

Rusty didn't move, and neither did Fox. Sarah just rolled her eyes at the tom, turning to wash her back. Miroh, however, bounded through the crowd and shoved Longtail into the ground, using his surprise against him. Lionheart hissed in annoyance; Rusty was supposed to protect himself.

"If you dare-" Miroh was hissing. But Rusty interrupted her.

"Miroh, this is my battle, not yours. I understand you wish to protect me, but they will never believe I am strong if I back down while you defeat him."

Miroh stared at Rusty, then stepped aside, letting Longtail up. The tabby stared at Rusty in surprise for a heartbeat before he was tackled once again. Rusty dug his claws deep into the tabby's fur and sank in his teeth. None of the usual circling and taunting Miroh had told Fox about preceded this fight. Both cats were locked in a screeching, writhing knot of fury that flipped and rolled around the clearing at the center of the camp. The crowd had to move out of the way to avoid getting hit by an awry blow.

As Fox watched his brother fight for his honor, fear and exitement filled him. Through the pounding of blood in his ears, he could hear the other cats wailing with exitement.

Then Longtail grabbed Rusty's collar and pulled. Rusty writhed and twisted, obviously trying to get air but unable. Fox heard Lionheart whisper something to Miroh about letting Rusty do this, but he could barely hear anything. His paws felt frozen to the ground, all his senses fixed on Rusty. He found himself holding his breath, waiting for Rusty to escape. And suddenly, with a loud snap, Rusty and Longtail stumbled away from each other. Both scrambled to their paws, Rusty looking around while Longtail was panting hard. Hanging from his jaws was Rusty's collar, broken.

Instantly, Bluestar leaped down from the Highrock with a thunderous caterwaul that silenced the crowd. Rusty and Longtail stayed where they were, both panting for breath. Clumps of fur hung from their coats and Rusty had a cut above his eye. Longtail's ear was badly torn, and blood dripped from it to the dusty ground. They glared at each other, as if each was willing the other to attack again.

Bluestar stepped forward and took the collar, placing it on the ground in front of her. Triumphantly, she meowed, "This newcomer has lost his Twoleg collar in a battle for his honor. StarClan has spoken its approval - this cat and his brother and sister have been released from the hold of their Twoleg owners, and are free to join ThunderClan as apprentices. Their eldest sister will join them with a warrior name, though she will train as well."

Rusty looked at Bluestar and solemnly nodded. The blue-gray she-cat beckoned Fox, Miroh, and Sarah over with her tail. Fox led the charge, holding his head high, not only from pride but also to keep his flower up. He shot Bluestar an indignant look as she purred in amusement. Rusty stood up and stepped forward into a shaft of sunshine, lifting his head proudly and smiling at his brother and sisters as they moved to stand next to him. This time, no cat argued or jeered. StarClan, whatever that was, had shown its approval of the newcomers.

Bluestar stepped up to Rusty first, placing the shredded collar on the ground in front of him. She touched his ear with her nose and whispered something. Her eyes flashed briefly, as if her words meant something important. Then she turned to the Clan and announced, "From this day forward, until he has earned his warrior name, this apprentice will be called Firepaw, in honor of his flame-colored coat. I will be his mentor." She touched his nose with hers before stepping back, ignoring the jeers and shouts, and flicked her tail to Firepaw, who nodded, then turned and kicked dust and grass over his collar as though burying his dirt.

The Clan leader then turned to Sarah, who was the next in the line they had made. "Blaze, from this moment forward you will be known as Blazetrail, for your stripes the same color as his pelt. I expect you to learn the ways of a warrior and earn the name I have given you." Bluestar touched her nose to Blazetrail's head and whispered something, prompting the new warrior to hastily lick her shoulder respectfully.

Miroh was next. "From this day forward, until she has earned her warrior name, this apprentice will be called Sparkpaw, in honor of the spark of defiance in her eyes." Again, Bluestar whispered something to the newly named Sparkpaw, though it did not prompt the same reaction. "Your mentor will be Runningwind." A tabby tom stepped forward and touched noses to Sparkpaw before sitting back down.

Finally, it was Fox's turn. He took a single bouncing step over, quickly setting his flower at his paws to recieve his name. "From this day forward -" she began, but she was cut off by a commotion near the entrance. Fox barely had time to look over before a young cat crashed through the bushes and into the camp. He was skinny, and jet black save for a white mark on his chest and his white tail-tip.

A gray apprentice, the one Firepaw had moved to sit next to after recieving his name, gasped and said something about the cat's name being Ravenpaw, then asking about some companion or something. Sparkpaw crouched down, as if willing this to be an enemy she could fight. Blazetrail just stared at him blankly.

Ravenpaw was staggering across the floor of the clearing, panting heavily. His fur was ruffled and dusty, and his eyes were filled with fear. Fox felt the same feeling flood himself as the dust around the tom turned red with blood. Ravenpaw stood there, panting, for a moment, looking at the Highrock as if judging the height. Obviously, he decided against trying to scale it, because he only looked at the worried faces around him before summoning the strength to declare, "Redtail is dead!" And then he fell to the ground.