I'm back! I'm gonna update the prologue as well because the writing is in desperate need of a revision.

Also, I know it's usually well-meaning, but I am aware that in canon, cats use different words or don't know swear words, but I'm straying from that

Rusty was filled with wonder as he traveled deeper into the large forest, his green eyes wide in awe.

The chilly air nipped at his nose and paws, but he found himself unable to care as he breathed in the rich, earthy scents these woods had to offer. The first cicadas of the season sang with their loud call ringing throughout the leafy canopy above. A gang of crickets harmonized with them, and a distant owl's hoots aided this symphony of delight.

It wasn't just the sounds either. All around him was a myriad of scents, ranging from the strong, cold reek of a mint patch nearby, the earthy scent of the leaf littered that carpeted his paws, the fragrant aromas of the first wildflowers, and even the sharp smell of the occasional pines. Animal trails dotted the woods, still smelling of mice or foxes. His nose had never had so much stimulation before, so much different from the often stale or sickeningly sweet smells of their neighborhood or the sour and overpoweringly smoky aroma that plagued the big city.

It seemed that all the new stimuli was too much for Rusty, and he had to stop to sneeze and sputter. After a few heartbeats he was fine, and he happily continued his trek further into the woodlands.

The sights, however, were one of the most exciting parts for him. The forest was wild and overgrown, dotted with tall ferns, thick and varied bushes, young saplings, bundles of flowers, and old, rotten logs between the sturdy, moss covered trunks of the forest. The branches themselves seemed to be reaching for the stars themselves, and the canopy that hung above him felt oddly comforting, like it was protecting him. Pale beams of moonlight from gaps in the lush canopy dappled the ground like stars in the sky. The flowers were in an array of colors and grew untouched by the lawnmowers their humans used to cut the grass in their yard.

He turned his head and came face to face with a small firefly floating peacefully in the nighttime air. His wide greens eyes focused intently on the tiny insect's movements, and he strained to suppress a joyous, kit-like giggle when it landed on his nose.

The sight brought back a fond memory from the previous summer, when he and Princess had only been three moons old and Smudge five. He, Princess, and Smudge had been play fighting in Smudge's backyard as night fell when he first saw a firefly. He was watching it with wonder much like he was now when Princess screeched from behind him.

She cried about the bug kidnapping the sun and tried to kill it, only to be interrupted by a cackling Smudge. The black and white tom explained that they're called fireflies, and that the light isn't the sun, but a bunch of cemy-cals (Rusty still couldn't understand how Smudge could pronounce these long human words without fumbling) inside it that glow. They had barraged their friend with question upon question until he quickly suggested catching them like he'd seen human kits doing.

The rest of the night had been spent searching and pouncing for the small bugs, and the purrs of amusement and laughter had become one of Rusty's favorite memories.

He jerked back to reality when his ears swiveled to catch a rustle in the bushes behind him. He spun around with his tail already bristling and back arched, the motion causing the firefly on his nose to fly away.

For a short moment Rusty stood still with all of his senses tuned to catch whatever this mystery creature was. But no other noises followed the rustle, and while his nose was able to catch a faint whiff of cat scent, there wasn't anything else, so the young tom slowly relaxed. He gave himself a shake and decided to leave the clearing he was in, just in case.

"Wonder if that was one of the forest cats…" He muttered on the trek.

He soon found another gap in the trees and jostled his way through the thick tall grass and stems of plants he'd never seen before. Right in front of him was an old oak log, about as tall as if he stood on Princess' shoulders. Wild mushrooms furled on the side of it and thick moss clung tightly to the jagged bark. Rusty leaned into a crouch, his tail wiggling, and leaped upwards.

His paws landed on the wood with a satisfying thump , and his tail curled in delight. Here, he had a pretty good view of the clearing: the grass here was much shorter than the towering stems of most of the forest, although it still flecked the edges of the clearing like a fence. Holly bushes and dogwood shrubs were scattered around the clearing, and small dandelions poked from the leaf litter. The smooth trunks of birch and the tall, thin frames of cypresses circled the clearing like a protective ring.

The young tom couldn't help the wide grin that beamed across his muzzle, so big that it practically threatened to rip his face clean in half. He was finally here; in this forest he'd dreamed about and stared wistfully at for so long. And it was even better than he could have possibly hoped!

'When I get back, Princess is going to be so jealous!' He thought mischievously, gleefully imagining the shocked looks of his sister and best friend as he recounted his adventure to them. He chuckled quietly but fell silent when he heard a rustle in a clump of ferns nearby.

He whipped his head to look at whatever it was and nearly gasped in delight at the sight of a field mouse snuffling through the leaf litter.

His mouth watered as he observed the cautious yet quick movements of the small rodent. It was pleasantly plump, very different from the much smaller city mice. Suddenly, the rodent stood on its hindpaws and sniffed the air as Rusty tensed, fearful that his cover was blown. He was just about to leap forward in a desperate attempt to catch the fleeing rodent when it stopped, seemingly satisfied, and went back to snuffling for food around the roots of a nearby holly bush.

As it pulled out a large, oval-shaped seed, Rusty felt relief wash through him. It occurred to him that he must be downwind of the creature, or else it would have run away right then! He silently thanked his good fortune and scrambled off the stump, just barely stopping from setting his paw on a leaf. As soon as he was on the ground, he dropped into a crouch. If he went straight forward it would see him, so he figured that if he went around the stump, he could catch it off guard.

The words of his older half-brother, Scourge, played in his head as he stalked forward.

'See now, mice are much more sensitive to pawsteps, so you'll need to set your paws on the ground gently- Princess, you just stepped on a wrapper. See, if you were hunting a mouse for real, it would have heard that and ran. Be certain there isn't anything in your way when stalking.'

Rusty glanced at the forest floor and noticed that he was right about to step on a dead leaf. With his ears pinned back in embarrassment he set his right paw a bit away from it and continued.

Thankfully, the mouse hadn't noticed and was still content nibbling on a seed, unaware of its death looming ever closer.

'Alright, copy what I do. You need to stalk forward carefully, keep your pawsteps light, and make sure you're downwind. So here, let's say you're right on it. So you lean on your haunches- no, no, not like that Rusty! Keep your tail still- the noise could alert the thing if it brushes against something.'

Despite his excitement, the tom forced his tail to keep still. His heart hammered in his chest and his mouth watered as he leaned back on his haunches.

'Alright then, so you lean back and bunch your muscles, and with a big leap, you pounce on the mouse and bite its neck. If you do this right, you got yourself a meal-'

Rusty leaped forward with his claws unsheathed and fangs bared, ready to snap the rodent's neck and fill his growling stomach. Finally, the mouse noticed his presence and squeaked in alarm. But it was too late, he was right on it-

-Only for him to fall flat on the leaf litter. His eyes widened in alarm, and he scrambled to his paws, but it was too late. He just caught the sight of the mouse's tail disappearing into its burrow.

'But make sure you don't pounce too early. I've lost more mice than I'd like to admit from this when I was younger, so I might as well get that out of the way.'

Rusty stared for a good minute at the burrow. His tail twitched in frustration and his claws dug into the ground. He didn't think digging up the nest would work; his claws probably weren't strong enough, and who knows how deep it was, or if it had other exits.

The ginger tom grit his teeth and growled softly before whipping around, his mood sufficiently soured by this failure. He stormed away from the clearing, ready to go back home when a rustling in one of the dogwood bushes caught his attention.

He craned his neck to the source of the noise and studied the bush for a minute. It sounded too large to be another rodent. His eyes widened in alarm as the once faint cat-scent from before was now much, much stronger. Someone was coming, and judging by the anger laced in their smell, they were not pleased by Rusty's appearance.

With a yowling hiss, a large cat surged from the bushes, teeth bared and unsheathed claws glinting in the moonlight, and tackled Rusty.

The young tom yowled as his attacker's claws raked his cheek and shoulder. All of Scourge's teaching of self-defense scattered in the wake of his panic. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and his breath came in shallow and quick.

With a frightened screech, he began to desperately flail his limbs and claws in the vain hope that if he landed enough blows, his assailant might loosen its grip. But only a few blows truly connected, and none of them were hard enough to do any real damage. This cat still wasn't letting up as the two of them rose up onto their hindlegs, trading blows.

And then unexpectedly, his opponent smacked Rusty on the side of the head, hard enough to disorient him. The ginger cat stumbled as his head swam before tripping over a small rock. He fell on his back with a pained 'oomph!', dust clouds rolling upwards from the motion.

His attacker didn't waste this chance and leaped forward with one smooth motion, pinning Rusty onto his back, large paws digging into his shoulders. Rusty couldn't make out many features of his assailant, as they weren't near any moonlight, but he knew this cat was a tom, was much larger than he was, and had narrow, sharp yellow eyes that bore into him.

An instinctual panic rose from within, as he knew well that a cat's belly was their softest part; one well-aimed swipe, and it was all over. But no matter how hard he wriggled, this cat held his shoulders firmly.

Rusty couldn't breathe. His mind raced. Was this it? Was this how he was going to die? He never even got to see Princess or Smudge again! Or Scourge! He should have never gone in here!

His attacker opened his mouth, probably to tear his throat open, Rusty imagined, when he spotted an opening to escape.

His shoulders may have been pinned down, but his hind legs were still free. Thinking quickly, he delivered a swift kick into his opponent's own belly. Mercifully, the large tom was flung off his him with a wheeze, sliding across the forest floor and into one of the holly bushes nearby.

The ginger tom scrambled to his paws and sprinted away, not daring to look back.

As he bolted through the forest in a desperate effort to put distance between him and the threat, he realized he had no clue where he was. He felt icy claws of panic dig into him; would he be able to escape this cat if he didn't even know where he was?

But just as he thought that he began to recognize his surroundings. And the long strip of grass was now just a yard-length away! Just a little bit farther and he'd be safe!

But he heard the snarls and hisses of his assailant behind him and a quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that the massive cat was just a mouse-length behind him.

He squeezed his eyes shut. 'So close! So close! Just a bit farther! But… what if they don't not stop over the yard line… What if they try to attack me and Princess in our own home? Or Smudge ? He couldn't defend himself to save his life!'

When his eyes opened, they were now dark green pools of fiery fury. With renewed vigor and a determination to protect his friend and his sister, he whirled around to face his opponent, back arched, hackles raised, and teeth bared. Scourge's self defense lesson came back to him, and though his half-brother hadn't gone over offensive moves in detail yet, Rusty was sure that he could improvise.

The first thing he noticed was the detail of his assailant, now that he wasn't running away and was in full view of the moon. He was a much larger tom with shaggy pale gray fur intercepted with much darker, swirling stripes. His size had fooled Rusty into believing that this young tom was fully grown, but now that he could properly see his face, this young tom still has kitten fluff behind his ears and semi-chubby cheeks. His yellow eyes, which previously had looked like cold shards of glass, were now wide with surprise.

Whatever the young tom had expected his attacker to look like, this wasn't it. His attacker seemed surprised by Rusty turning to face him and attempted to skid to a halt. But the gray tabby wasn't able to stop in time, which led the two young toms to collide into each other.

Rusty yelped as their heads knocked together and tried to scrabble backwards to break his fall. He managed to catch himself this time and, after several steadying breaths, lifted his head for another look at his attacker.

The gray tom was still down, laying in a pile of long fur and groaning in pain. Rusty's tail flicked. On one paw it was the perfect chance to surprise the tom and drive him away, but it also felt wrong to attack a cat while he was down. His tail flicked, his muscles still tensed and ready for an attack.

The fluffy gray tom groaned and had only just begun to pull himself onto his paws when a familiar yowl rang out from above Rusty's head.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!"

He saw the tom's pale yellow eyes briefly widen in shock before he was bowled over by the fawn tortoiseshell pelt of his sister. Her amber eyes were narrow chips of pure rage as a whirlwind of claws and teeth befell the poor sap. Tufts of gray fur began to litter the forest floor.

But the gray tom's eyes were wide and fearful and he tried to struggle out of the fawn calico's grasp, but she didn't let up. Rusty's chest squeezed tightly. He knew this cat wasn't likely to mess with them now, especially when Princess arrived, and he held a look of fear that the ginger tom had felt just moments before. But his sister didn't notice and continued to rip and tear at the young tom's thick fur. Rusty's chest tightened as he saw the gray tom attempt to scramble away, only for Princess to drag him back into her clutches by her shoulders, leaving red, angry scratches where her claws were.

He shuddered and took a step forward but paused. Hadn't this tom put the same kind of fear in him a moment before? But a simple look at the gray tom's fearful eye was enough to make him swallow his pride and rush to Princess' side.

"Princess! Princess, stop!" He cried. He pushed against the tortoiseshell and repeated, "C'mon, let go! I'm fine now, he's learned his lesson!"

Princess whipped her head around, and the amount of protective rage in her eyes made Rusty's neck hairs bristle. "Don't you dare sell me that crock of shit, Rusty! He was trying to kill you-! "

An amused wheeze emerged from the tom underneath her. "Heuuuh, huff… a-actually ma'am, I-I was gonna stop once he went over the border. A-and I-"

Princess fixed him with a scowl. "Quiet you." She snapped. Rusty gently butted his head against her tense shoulder.

"Easy there, tiger."

He nudged his sister off the young cat and turned to him for explanation.

The gray tom struggled to his paws, panting but seeming to be gaining his breath back. He shook his head and muttered something too quiet for either sibling to hear, and then groomed a patch of ruffled fur on his shoulder. A quiet hiss of pain slithered from his throat as he groomed a few of his cuts.

He lifted his head to face the two siblings. When he finally spoke, he chuckled, "Wow, never thought I'd meet a kittypet that could fight like that! Gave my fur a good tearing…"

Rusty had never heard the word that the tom used for him and his sister, but he guessed that it was the forest cat word for house cats. He didn't like the tone the tom used it in, it was like he was using the word as an insult.

Princess growled as Rusty thought to himself, as if agreeing with him.

"Don't speak to us like that, unless you want to get real familiar with how strong I am." She growled, her tail slowly lashing as she stared at the forest cat.

Shooting a glare at his sister, Rusty slapped her flank with his tail. Princess huffed in indigence at that but chose to not argue.

The strange tom stared at her equal parts shock and amusement and giggled.

"Ha! You two are funny!". He briefly licked another spot of ruffled fur on his thigh and continued, "But anyways, what're you two doing out here? I thought kittypets liked being in their houses?"

Rusty and Princess's eyes met, equally bewildered. "Uhh… why is that such an issue?" Rusty tentatively asked after a moment.

The gray tom gasped in shock. "Because you're on our territory!" He declared as if this was an obvious fact of life.

Princess' amber eyes narrowed. "I don't see your name on it." She pointed out dryly.

The gray tom scowled. "Yeah, well, ThunderClan didn't see the point in marking it over this winter, b-but it's still ours !"

Princess looked ready to scuffle with the young tom again, but the mention of ThunderClan, whatever that was, piqued Rusty's innate curiosity. He tilted his head to the side and leaned closer to the gray tom.

"ThunderClan?" He echoed. The young tom nodded quickly. "Is that where you live?" The young ginger tom pressed.

The strange gray tabby grinned, his plumy tail curling and his fluffy chest puffing out with pride. "Yep! We live in this forest! ThunderClan is one of the four clans that live in the valley."

It seemed that Princess grew curious as well and asked, "What do you mean, clans?"

The young tom gasped in offense. "You two haven't heard of the four clans 'round here?!"

The siblings swapped a bewildered look. "No, the most we've heard is about feral cats that'll line their nests with the fur of their enemies and devour house cats who wander." Princess meowed.

The two of them half-expected this ThunderClan tom to be offended once again, or just get into telling them what was up, but he instead stood completely still, whiskers quivering. He looked as if he was trying to figure out if they were lying, but after an uncomfortable silence, he burst into hysterical laughter.

"Oh! Oh stars, that's-" The fluffy gray tom cackled. Between wheezes of laughter, he managed to choke out, "We don't- Oh stars above, you kittypets have some creative stories! Ha! "

Rusty's ears flattened. He huffed sharply, "Alright then, can you please explain instead of just laughing at us?"

The gray tom cleared his throat. "Right, sorry about that. Uh, anyways,". He straightened his posture and took a deep breath, "So the forest is just one part of this area we call the valley, right? And my clan, ThunderClan, owns it. There's three other clans as well: RiverClan, and you can probably guess why they're named that, WindClan, who lives up in the moorlands, and ShadowClan, who live in the pine marshes."

"We don't get along so well with the other clans. Or well, sometimes we do, but not now. ShadowClan's a bunch of rotten prey thieves and RiverClanners are greedy and lazy!". His muzzle wrinkled in distaste. "WindClan's alright at least, but they've been pretty reserved lately. I dunno what's up with that..."

The gray tom froze mid-explanation, brows furrowed, and then gasped. "Oh shoot, I forgot to introduce myself!", and in a quieter voice he muttered, "Mom'll have my hide for that-"

He stretched his paw outward to the two siblings, frozen in midair, almost like he was batting at a toy. "My name's Graypaw! I'm a ThunderClan apprentice!"

Rusty and Princess regarded his extended paw with utterly bewildered looks. After an awkward few seconds, Rusty replied, "Uhh… my name's Rusty, and my sister," he gestured with his tail in his sister's direction, "Is Princess."

Graypaw looked oddly embarrassed as he set his paw down, chuckling awkwardly, but shook it off and remarked, "You kittypets have the weirdest names!"

Princess snorted, "Not that your name is a whole lot better. What kind of name is Graypaw ?"

Graypaw, shockingly, didn't take much offense to that and explained, "Ah, well, it's a temporary name actually! When I become a warrior I'll get my full name, but all apprentices have the -paw suffix."

"Why?" Rusty questioned.

The large gray tom shrugged. "Eh, who knows? I mean, the lorekeepers probably do, but I never really bothered to ask…"

"So, uh… since, you're the same age as us, you're not a warrior?" Princess questioned.

"Why, did you think I was? Oh stars no, I won't be a warrior for ages! I still have six moons to go!". The fluffy gray tabby then gained a mischievous glimmer in his yellow eyes. "Lucky thing I was only made a -paw a few nights ago, or else I might've had more battle practice to really mop the floor with you two!"

Princess's fur rose at the statement, which Graypaw took notice of as he backtracked. "U-uh, and with the other clans! Well, we don't always fight, but scuffles happen, and then there's aggressive rogues, foxes that are too stubborn to leave, grumpy badgers, coyotes, loose dogs-"

"That…" Rusty mewed softly, his vibrant green eyes round with concern, "That sounds really dangerous. You could come back with us, y'know? You'd be safe, at least. The humans love kittens, and-"

"And eat disgusting pellets and get all soft and lazy?!" The larger gray tom cried indignantly, "No way! I prefer it out here, where it's wild and free! ThunderClan is a community anyways, so it's not like we're roughing it on our own.".

He huffed. "Besides, humans are evil creatures anyways. What, with luring in kittypets and creating stinking thunderpaths that cut through our homes."

Princess shrugged and responded off-handedly, "Can't argue with that."

Graypaw stared at her for a second with a look of utter bewilderment on his face. "I thought all kittypets liked their twolegs?" He meowed.

Rusty blinked at the strange word. Did he not know the word human? But he pushed this confusion aside and replied with a voice full of bitter melancholy, "Most do, but ours are too busy going out and doing whatever. If we didn't know how to hunt, we'd probably be in real trouble."

Graypaw's face fell. "So that's why you two aren't fat!"

Princess hissed. "I'd rather be fat than struggle to find food!" She snapped. The fluffy gray tom ducked his head and flattened his ears, looking apologetic.

"Ah, sorry. But you really shouldn't hunt here anymore." He replied, "Most border patrols won't be as friendly, I'm afraid."

Rusty furrowed his brows and asked, "Why not? Surely there's enough to share?"

The ThunderClan tom bristled indignantly. "Why not?! This food's for us, not kittypets!" He hissed. He looked like he was going to say more, but his nose twitched as if picking up a scent in the air. The fluffy gray tom gently inclined his head upwards to catch a better whiff and gasped. His yellow eyes widened.

"I smell cats from my patrol. You two need to get out of here!"

When Rusty and Princess paused, Graypaw looked almost desperate. "Quick! I don't think they'll take kindly to you two!"

The siblings began to back away as the stench of cat-scent swamped their senses, but before they had time to flee, a voice came from the thick undergrowth surrounding them.

"What's going on here, Graypaw?"

Side note: When Graypaw stuck his paw out in the air, he was trying to shake their paws. It's a common ThunderClan greeting, as they're very physical in their affections, but Rusty and Princess have never seen that and are extremely bewildered.