Don't get too excited, readers. This is the same chapter but broken up. XD

Okay, this has been fixed now. Thanks, reviewer Gale, for pointing out the whole prologue-y thing! This makes much more sense. X3

Cranepaw ducked his head against the gale, his ears pressing flat against his head, his eyes closed tightly shut. Each pawstep was hard-going, and the boggy ground rose up to cover each white paw until they were stained brown as the peat.

ShadowClan's new-leaf wasn't soothing. It was just as horrible as the past leaf-bare but without the added bonus of snow. Instead, the rain turned the ground into mush, and with each step, Cranepaw had to yank his paw back out of the sucking mud.

His mentor Nightpelt turned around from the patrol. "Do you need help?" he asked kindly. He'd only just gotten assigned to Nightpelt two moon cycles before but the senior warrior had been absolutely invaluable.

It didn't help that Cranepaw hero-worshipped him. ShadowClan had a lot of strong, powerful warriors, but none were as nice or patient as Nightpelt. Cranepaw felt like all his dreams had come true at once when Raggedstar had called Nightpelt forward from the crowd. Nightpelt would make him a good warrior, one who would make a name in ShadowClan. And then all the kits would look up to him instead, and think of how they wanted to be him.

Pointless dreams, Cranepaw thought miserably but he tried to shove that away. He would be a great warrior. He had to be.

Nightpelt was talking to Crowtail causally, his thick pads making the pathway easy to traverse; Cranepaw tried to leap into his pawsteps but he sank too deep. Nightpelt's paws were much larger than his.

Crowtail's apprentice Racingpaw was having the same difficulty. Racingpaw was Cranepaw's best friend, and had been since they were born. Their mothers were best friends, too, so they had always been together.

Racingpaw, making sure his mentor wasn't listening, leaned over to Cranepaw and whispered, "This is terrible. Why would they make us go first on the dawn patrol and then make us walk through this sludge? I'm turning all brown!"

"You're already brown," Cranepaw whispered back.

It was true, but Racingpaw's fur wasn't exactly the same color as the marsh. He was lighter, with a pale belly, so the mud showed up much better than Cranepaw's smoke-gray fur.

Racingpaw looked less than pleased with his friend's observation. "Do you think they'll take us hunting after this?"

Cranepaw shook his head, yanking hard to free a hind paw. "I dunno. Maybe. Maybe they'll take us to the drylands and let us do battle-training."

Racingpaw's eyes lit up. A trip to the drylands was few and far between. ShadowClan mentors preferred to train their apprentices in stealth, not full-out combat.

"Do you think so?" he asked, his voice a little too high.

Crowtail turned around, her expression stern. "May I remind you that we're close to the ThunderClan border?" she said. "Unless you want to bring Sunstar and his entire Clan down on our ears."

Racingpaw shrank back sheepishly. "Of course not, Crowtail."

Nightpelt looked at Cranepaw, his expression amused. "Just be quiet, okay? We're almost done. I know you're probably tired."

Cranepaw wondered if he could see that so clearly. His bones were achy with sleep, his eyes stinging with it. He longed to be back in the apprentices' den, curled up in a nest of soft, fragrant pine needles and feathers. Maybe he could even sneak over to the warriors' den and see his mother, Silversong.

A lot of the Clan didn't like her, Cranepaw knew. They thought she was a traitor, all because she had become mates with a RiverClan cat. His father.

She'd told Cranepaw a lot about his father when he was a kit, stories of how they'd met mostly. Silversong had been on an attacking patrol to RiverClan and nearly drowned. As she floated through the icy river, her consciousness bleeding away, she saw a bird on the bank. Tall and white and long-necked. A crane. It was the last thing she saw.

When she woke up, a RiverClan tom was watching over her. It had turned out that someone had attacked her while she was treading water and it had shoved her head beneath the surface. He'd plucked her out and brought her into a sheltered little nook in the reeds.

Silversong always said it was fate, that she would meet him. It didn't even matter she'd nearly died doing it. She said StarClan had stepped into her life and brought him to her.

So when she'd turned up expecting kits and didn't have a ShadowClan mate, Raggedstar knew something was wrong. He'd demanded the truth from her, threatening to exile both her and her unborn kit, and she'd told him everything.

As he promised, he didn't hurt her. But he made her an outcast within the Clan, and told everyone what she'd done. No one would trust her with anything again.

But that hadn't lasted. Silversong was a loyal she-cat. She loved ShadowClan but she loved the RiverClan tom, too. Raggedstar made her choose between them and she chose the Clan.

Picking cats who hated her over true love. Cranepaw hadn't understood the first time she'd told him but he did now.

And he thought she'd chosen right.

Besides, I wouldn't want to be raised a RiverClan cat, he thought, shaking droplets off his paws. I hate the damp.

ShadowClan scent became stronger and he realized they were almost back to camp. Blissful happiness flooded through him. Soon he'd be dry and warm and happy.

Then Nightpelt said, "Change out the elders' bedding before you do anything else, alright? Then you may eat and rest. Tonight we go out for stealth training."

Cranepaw and Racingpaw sighed together.

Crowtail said, "You must learn to hunt in the darkness. ShadowClan are cats of the night. We can take anyone by surprise at anytime. These are vital skills you must learn."

Nightpelt touched her shoulder with the tip of his tail. "Don't be too hard on them. They'll learn."

Crowtail eyed Racingpaw particularly sharply. "They better." She disappeared into the thorn tunnel, ducking her head so the brambles wouldn't claw at her ears.

Nightpelt watched her go. He said, "Don't worry about her," turning to look down at them with pride on his face. "You're doing very well."

Cranepaw said, "Thank you, Nightpelt."

Nightpelt dipped his head before following his Clanmate into the camp.

"'Thank you, Nightpelt,'" Racingpaw mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "'Do you want me to fetch you fresh bedding, too? Or maybe a nice plump squirrel, fresh from ThunderClan territory?'"

Cranepaw frowned as they trotted into camp. It smelled lovely, like home. All dark earth and fallen leaves. "I do not sound like that."

"You really do," Racingpaw said, laughing.

Cranepaw whapped a forepaw at him but his friend dodged agilely. Even in play, evasion transcended instinct.

As they settled into their usual routine—plucking out the damp moss and tossing it aside, weaving feathers into the bases of the nests—they fell into an easy silence. They never had to speak much. It just wasn't necessary.

The elders, however, couldn't stop chattering, it seemed.

Hollyflower said, "Did you hear? ThunderClan's deputy is sick. Yellowfang reported that Tawnyspots is looking very patchy."

Littlebird let out a rough purr. "Good," she said, her voice rusty. "We might can make a try for a slice of their territory. New-leaf is not treating us well."

Hollyflower sighed. "I'm sure things will pick up. You know how the rain chases everything away. There are plenty of toads around."

"You might like a toad but I do not." Littlebird curled her tongue in disgust. "Call me ThunderClan if you'd like, but I prefer something with warm blood. Those frogs are too slimy for my taste."

"You're so dainty," Hollyflower said. "If you tried a frog, you might like it."

Racingpaw rolled his eyes at Cranepaw, who stifled a laugh.

That caught both the old she-cats' attention.

"Something to say, little halfClan?" Littlebird demanded, her patchy fur up.

"Maybe he was just imagining the river," Hollyflower said, her eyes fixed on Cranepaw, her expression one of disgust. "The land of his ancestors."

Ears burning, Cranepaw studiously ignored them, working on a particularly hard bit of twig. It was stuck fast, right in the middle of Littlebird's nest. He tugged on it and the she-cat howled as if he'd struck her.

"Watch it!" she hissed, aiming a poor blow at his head; he ducked it easily. "Bumblepaws, all of them. The whole lot of RiverClan." The word curled poisonously on her tongue.

Racingpaw was watching Cranepaw, he could tell out of the corners of his eyes. But Cranepaw set to his work, finishing up with Littlebird's nest and walking to the moss pile.

Hollyflower said, "Look at him. He doesn't even move like us. Lumbering like a badger."

"Not that I'm agreeing," Racingpaw said, his voice very stiff. "But even if Cranepaw did move like a badger, it would be more than you, you sour old toad. I doubt you can even stand without your bones splintering from disuse." Twin yowls of derision raised up but Racingpaw had his eyes fixed on Cranepaw. "Come on. Clawpaw can take care of these two."

"I'll be bringing this up to Crowtail," Littlebird called after them.

Racingpaw, his entire face narrowed, just huffed. "Whatever," he muttered. Then he turned to Cranepaw. "Are you okay?"

Cranepaw hadn't noticed until that moment, but he was shaking with rage. "S-sorry."

"Not at all," Racingpaw said at once, looking surprised. "I won't let them talk to you like that. And so what if they talk to Crowtail? It's not like she can dislike me anymore than she already does."

"Yeah right," Cranepaw said, trying to cheer him up. He didn't like to see his friend so distraught, especially not after Racingpaw defended him for the umpteenth time. "You'll be Racingflight one day and then she'll have to shut up."

Racingpaw looked grateful. "Thanks. But it's Racingheart. Just for the record."

"Or Racingsnail, judging by that last stealth training." Rosepaw came padding up, her light ginger fur falling elegantly around her, as usual. Cranepaw felt his heart kick up a wild rhythm as she turned her bright yellow eyes on him.

"Oh look," Racingpaw said snidely. "I was wondering when the bossypaws was going to show up."

Rosepaw didn't even look at him. "Hi, Cranepaw," she said in her bright voice. "How did the patrol go?"

"Tiring," Cranepaw answered, trying to keep his sentences small so he wouldn't get tongue-tied and sound like a moron.

Rosepaw's mouth quirked. "Don't worry," she said gently. "It gets easier."

"Says the cat who's been an apprentice for…what? A single moon longer than us?" Racingpaw smirked. "That sure makes you an expert."

"Racingpaw, keep your words to yourself. You lower the intelligence of everyone around you by speaking." Rosepaw turned her pink nose up at him. "Unless, of course, you want to say something intelligent. But I'll die of suffocation if I hold my breath for that moment."

Sufficiently outfoxed, Racingpaw muttered, "Stupid she-cat."

Sensing a triumph, Rosepaw turned back to Cranepaw. "Maybe I'll see you tonight at stealth training?"

"Yeah," Cranepaw breathed.

Rosepaw beamed at him and trotted away, her tail in the air, back to find her mentor.

"Yeah," he said again, dazed. "Anything you say."

"You know she's already gone, right?" Racingpaw was sulking, his eyes balefully watching Rosepaw speaking energetically with her mentor, Archeye. "Or do you want to continue talking to no one?"

Cranepaw shook his head quickly, trying to clear it.

As they walked to the fresh-kill pile, Racingpaw said, "Honestly, I don't know what you see in her. She's insufferable."

"She's nice," Cranepaw protested loyally. "And she's pretty. And she always comes to talk to me when no one else does."

All that was left was a bunch of shrunken toads. Cranepaw's stomach protested at the sight of them so he decided to wait.

Racingpaw, however, did not hold similar sentiment. He ripped into a frog, tearing off meager mouthfuls of stringy meat. Gulping it down, licking his lips, he added, "She's so bossy. And she's mean as a snake. You should hear her during my stalking practice when Crowtail's not listening. 'Oh, you call that a slide? I thought you were stretching your legs!'" He grumbled beneath his breath as he prodded at the rubbery bones left. "Mean. Very mean."

"You're not exactly nice to her, either, you know." Cranepaw watched Rosepaw turn and leave with a pang of disappointment in the pit of his stomach.

"She starts it," Racingpaw said immediately. "And whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Hers," Cranepaw said dreamily. Then when Racingpaw let out an outraged sound, he lied, "Just kidding, just kidding. Yours. Of course."

Appeased, Racingpaw turned back to his meal and Cranepaw let his mind drift.

Rosepaw probably didn't even know he had a crush on her. She probably had her eyes on one of the other, older apprentices. If not Clawpaw, who was strong and confident, then maybe Stumpypaw. Despite his stupid name, he was smart and he learned quickly. He was only a few moons older than Cranepaw but he was already learning ambushing.

Clawpaw was right across the way right now. Cranepaw watched him nudge Stumpypaw, who was his constant companion, then strut up to Rosepaw's side. He murmured something into her ear.

Cranepaw burned with jealousy.

"You're going to burn a hole in his head," Racingpaw said without looking up.

"I don't care," Cranepaw said.

"You'll care when he comes over here and hands you your disconnected tail." Racingpaw stood up, meal finished, with a look of dissatisfaction on his face.

"Yellowfang can reattach it."

Racingpaw laughed. "Good luck with that."

Cranepaw had to admit Racingpaw was right. Yellowfang had no patience for anyone but Raggedstar and her apprentice Runningpaw, Racingpaw's brother. Even the thought of asking her for something gave Cranepaw the shudders.

"Oh, hang on." Racingpaw's eyes were tracking something. Cranepaw wheeled around just in time to see the other dawn patrol stalk in.

In the lead was Brokentail, Raggedstar's only son. He was strong and broad-shouldered, his hard muscles working beneath his dark tabby pelt. Behind him was his constant companion Blackfoot, who was staring ahead with hard yellow eyes.

"Wow," Racingpaw breathed, as smitten with the idea of being a warrior as Cranepaw was with Rosepaw. "They are so cool."

Cranepaw didn't agree but he didn't say anything. Racingpaw was swept up in the awesomeness of it all, the hard flickering glances of the warrior pair. But Cranepaw didn't trust Brokentail. He'd done too many strange things to be trustable.

"We'll be like them someday." Racingpaw leaned against Cranepaw's shoulder, still watching Brokentail and Blackfoot. "Almost impossibly cool."

"Yeah," Cranepaw agreed, his eyes trained on the way Brokentail's eyes swept through the clearing, clearly looking for something.

Cranepaw knew what. And it sent a sick pang through his stomach.

The instant Brokentail's eyes gleamed, Cranepaw darted forward, leaving Racingpaw behind. He weaved through Cinderfur and Ashfur, who were chatting calmly, and ducked under Cloudpelt's long tail until he reached the warriors' den. "Silversong!" he greeted.

His mother had just emerged. "Good morning, little one," she said warmly, brushing her pale muzzle down against his.

Cranepaw looked over his shoulder to see Brokentail's frustrated stare locked on him. Lifting his chin a bit more, Cranepaw turned back to his mother.

"Did you do well this morning?" she asked, her eyes dancing. She had blue eyes but always said Cranepaw's were prettier, a pale green. He knew she liked them so much because they were the exact same shade as his father's.

"Yes," he said, and then launched into a full report of the patrol. Silversong listened patiently, her head tipped delicately to the side, until he had finished.

"I'm so proud of you," she said, touching her nose gently to his. "You're such a good little warrior."

He raised his tail happily at her praise.

Nightpelt's voice came from behind him. "Cranepaw, come here."

Cranepaw hesitated.

Silversong purred. "Go ahead. I'll be here when you return."

Cranepaw said, "Okay. I have something else to tell you then!"

Something passed across Silversong's blue eyes. "Me too," she said, surprising him. "It can wait. Go on now."

Confused, Cranepaw obeyed. What could she mean? It fell to the back of his mind as he saw the expression on his mentor's face.

Nightpelt looked grim. "Raggedstar has requested you and Racingpaw specifically for this," he said.

"For what?" Cranepaw didn't like the edge in his mentor's usually calm tone. Something was wrong.

Nightpelt hesitated and in that moment, Cranepaw knew something was off.

"He wants you and Racingpaw to survey WindClan. You mustn't get caught."

Alrighty! That's better!

Now, as I said in the last chapter, this story will update every Sunday. And the chapters will be longer, as I had to break this one up for consistency's sake. XD

Mkay, I'm off to do homework now that this is done. Twelve pages on Shakespeare's Richard II and Richard III! Woohoo!

R&R~

Shadow