FireClan, RainClan, StoneClan and LeafClan were very similar to the Forest Clans. They inhabited the same territory. They had the same customs, the same rites, and the same social system. But there was one thing that was different about the Lake Clans, as I will call them. They existed mostly on cunning and ingenuity, instead of strength and technique. Brain was valued over brawn, in many cases. And this little 'oddity', this small difference, could possibly amount to nothing. But there was also the possibility of it meaning life or death for them.

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Larkpaw eyed the small vole carefully, her whiskers twitching with anticipation. The gray apprentice dropped into a hunting crouch, her blue eyes never leaving the tiny brown body. She could sense her mentor, Snowfoot, watching her from a few fox-lengths away, and determination coursed through Larkpaw's body, making her muscles quiver excitedly. She lashed her tail, and took a soft step closer to her unsuspecting prey. This would be the first prey that Larkpaw had ever caught on her own.

The vole stopped moving suddenly, and Larkpaw stopped too, her heart beating. The creature's beady black eyes flicked all around the clearing, but he didn't see Larkpaw crouching behind a small holly bush. When Larkpaw had had enough, she sprang from her hiding place, and landed with her paws squarely on the vole's back.

Satisfied, Larkpaw picked up the prey and trotted back to Snowfoot, her eyes gleaming proudly.

"Good catch," Snowfoot's silky voice flowed from her mouth, and her eyes sparkled.

"Thanks!" meowed Larkpaw, dropping the vole at Snowfoot's paws.

"Are you tired?" asked her mentor, picking up the vole.

"Not really. Can we do some more hunting? It's fun!" said Larkpaw, beaming.

"Absolutely. Why don't we go over by the Ancient Oak? I heard there's a rabbit warren near there, I'll teach you catch rabbis."

Larkpaw trailed behind her mentor as they threaded their way through the trees. She was so excited by her catch, that she didn't notice the unusual scent wafting in the air. Suddenly, a surprised scream rent the air, and Larkpaw nearly jumped to the tops of the trees.

"Snowfoot!" Larkpaw shrieked. Up ahead, the white she-cat was being clawed at by three enormous cats, whose scent Larkpaw could not identify, and was desperately trying to defend herself, but falling desperately short.

"Snowfoot!" cried Larkpaw again, and she tentatively stepped forward, wanting to help her mentor but not knowing how.

"No Larkpaw," said Snowfoot, her voice wavering. "You don't know how to fight. Go back to the camp and tell Brackenstar."

Larkpaw wailed with frustration, but seeing the painful, defeated look in Snowfoot's eyes, she finally turned and began to run back the way they had come. Just as the sounds of the fight began to fade away, Larkpaw heard her mentor cry, "Larkpaw! I think you will make a fine warrior!" then everything was quiet.

Larkpaw shuddered, but her paws kept moving through the dewy grass. She dragged herself into the FireClan camp, her expression of grief enough to for all of the cats to guess what had happened. Four or five warriors leapt to attention, and someone went to fetch Brackenstar, the leader. He flew from he den above the Highledge, and was instantly at Larkpaw's side. She was his daughter, and the worry showed in the leader's eyes.

"Where's Snowfoot?" asked Brackenstar anxiously, his eyes glassy. "What happened?" he rasped.

"We-she…they attacked, didn't smell…strange scent…" panted Larkpaw, lying down wearily on the ground.

"Snowfoot…" the murmur passed through the crowd of cats, and Redflower, who had been Snowfoot's mother, wailed, and pressed against Treebelly, Snowfoot's brother. Tabbytail, her other brother, sat silently, staring into space with a glazed expression.

" Why…?" Brackenstar hissed. Every cat knew he had had feelings for the beautiful white warrior. Larkpaw looked up into her father's dark blue eyes, and winced when she saw the pain pulsing in them.

"Well! Don't just stand there!" snarled Darkpool, a bitter, bad-tempered she-cat. "Go after her! Save her!"

Five warriors immediately streaked out of the camp, as if StarClan themselves were nipping at their heels. Brackenstar heaved a defeated sigh, and retreated into to his den to mourn. Larkpaw only watched him, and decided not to follow the old cat. He needed time by himself.

Larkpaw limped over to the apprentice's den, where her best friend, Gustpaw, was sitting next to her brother, Huntingpaw, talking eagerly.

"Hey, Larkpaw. Um…I'm…that's too bad. You know, about…Snowfoot…" said Gustpaw awkwardly, shuffling her feet.

"And it was your first time out too," murmured Huntingpaw, who slightly older than Larkpaw.

"Yeah." Larkpaw mewed halfheartedly, flopping down in a billow of dust.

"Is Brackenstar…I mean are you…will you get a new mentor?" asked Gustpaw, worried.

"I guess. But Brackenstar doesn't seem up to it right now. I guess I'll have to wait."

"You could train with me!" meowed Gustpaw, excitedly, perking up.

Larkpaw twitched her ear, and replied, "Yeah, thanks Gustpaw." She rose to her feet and padded away, no hearing the whisper to Huntingpaw, "She doesn't have to be all sad about it."