Chapter One

Sunset burned on the horizon in fiery shades of red and orange. Minnowpaw pulled herself out of the lake, water droplets streaking down her glistening coat. Today marked the end of her two-moon assessment, and pride burst forth from her center as she glanced down at the hefty catch she had made.

She carried her three fish back to camp by their tails, but she felt oddly exposed in the open air. Her mentor, Voletooth, had remarked on this before: in two moons of training, she had already become one of the clan's most talented lake hunters.

Most RiverClan cats liked to stick to the sandy banks of the river, keeping their shadows from falling over the water with deadly concentration. With a flash of swiftness and a keen eye, any cat could scoop a fish from the river. And Minnowpaw wouldn't scorn that kind of hunting.

But there was just something so… special about the lake. She loved the way the sun glinted on the surface and how the rippling waves undulated from the strong winds. And when she plunged beneath the water, she loved the way everything grew perfectly still. Ferns and algae twisted ever so slightly at the bottom, while silver tinged fish rushed all around her.

Shaking the thoughts away, Minnowpaw bounded through the tall reeds that marked the boundary of camp. She could hear the anxious chirping of nervous voices, so she quickly deposited her catch on the pile to see what all of the commotion was about. She caught sight of the brown tabby pelt of her mentor, so she slipped over to him, anxiously prodding at his side.

"What's going on?" Minnowpaw whispered nervously. Her eyes narrowed further when she noticed a group of her clanmates had gathered in a loose semicircle around their leader's den.

Voletooth blinked in surprise, as if he wasn't expecting to see his apprentice. "We don't know yet," he admitted. "Leopardstar came back from a hunting patrol around sunhigh, saying she didn't feel very well, but now she's in critical condition."

Minnowpaw flattened her ears back against her head. Her mind raced back to the nursery stories she'd been told, trying to count the number of moons Leopardstar had been leading RiverClan. "Well… losing a life cures sickness sometimes, doesn't it?"

"It does," Voletooth answered hesitantly. His body language was stiff, and Minnowpaw could almost feel the internal debate raging just beneath his pelt. The next time he spoke, the apprentice had to strain to hear him, his voice was so quiet. "But Leopardstar only has one life left."

Minnowpaw drew in a shaky breath at Voletooth's words, and she grimaced, tasting the sickness on the air. But she didn't get to talk. Instead, Voletooth gave her a soft nudge on the shoulder with his head. "Don't get yourself all worked up over this, okay? We haven't been at the lake for very long, so there are still some sicknesses we haven't come across. Leopardstar might not be in her prime, but she's a fighter. She'll pull through."

"All right, I believe you," Minnowpaw mewed, though worry still prickled her pelt.

Voletooth glanced over at the fresh kill pile, "And you also passed your assessment. Next time I'll have you stick more to the land, but your lake hunting really is incredible. Go have your pick from the fresh kill pile and then go get some sleep. We're on the dawn patrol tomorrow, so you'll need your rest."

Minnowpaw dipped her head to her mentor. "Thanks Voletooth!" she called to her mentor before scampering over to the fresh kill pile. Absently, she picked up a fish. She had spotted the mottled gray pelt of her brother, and she was eager to see how he fared on his assessment. She flopped down next to him in the patch of reeds where the apprentices usually ate.

"So how did things go?" she asked excitedly.

But Pebblepaw's body language was all wrong. His shoulders sagged, and she could see the defeat in his eyes. "Mosspelt said I might as well go join ThunderClan for all I'm worth," he muttered.

His tortoiseshell mentor was known for her fierce tongue and even stronger attitude. She had long since ascended into the ranks of the senior warriors, and she'd trained countless apprentices for the clan. It was a true honor for Pebblepaw when she was appointed as his mentor, but that meant his training was even harder than it should be.

"She didn't actually say that… did she?" Minnowpaw asked, wincing.

Pebblepaw nodded dejectedly. "And I didn't even do a bad job on my assessment!" he raged in a sudden rush of bitterness. I caught two whole water voles. So what if I only caught one fish? The elders tell plenty of stories about the days when twolegs poisoned the water. RiverClan needs to be able to hunt on both land and water! And I can hunt on land."

Minnowpaw pressed her nose gently into her brother's shoulder. At the action, she could feel his pounding heartbeat start to slow, and his whole body finally relaxed. "I know I shouldn't be so upset," he murmured. "In the long run, I'm going to be a much better warrior for her training, but it's still so hard to have her criticize you for making three whole catches."

A warm purr came from Minnowpaw. "Don't her get you down, okay? You and I both know how awesome you are, and a grumpy old she-cat can't take that away. You're going to do amazing things for the clan one day. I just know it." She broke off into a massive yawn, her eyes starting to droop with sleepiness.

Pebblepaw nudged his sister to her paws. They'd long since finished their meal. "Come on then, you great lump," he said, a grin in his voice. "Let's get some sleep before you freeze to death out here."

Curled up in their nests, the nagging worry kept Minnowpaw awake for longer than usual. She had forgotten to bring up the sickness to her brother, but she could almost hear his nagging response in his head. "Mom was convinced you were going to die all twenty times you caught kitten cough in the nursery, but you turned out okay."

Letting the thought soothe her, Minnowpaw drifted off into an uneasy sleep, the comforting waves of blackness dragging her further into oblivion.

Pebblepaw awoke the next morning to a rough paw jabbing at his side. The sharp blue gaze of his mentor flashed above him. He expected the telltale signs of anger and an insult about him not waking up in time, but those traits were curiously absent. Instead, he saw the note of fear in her gaze, and immediately, he was on his paws.

"What's going on?" his mew was nearly breathless. Sleep still tugged at all of his limbs, but a mournful wail from the clearing shocked him into full wakefulness. His mentor still hadn't said a word, so the tom shoved past her. That dreadful part of him expected to see Leopardstar's body, but he was shocked by the silver-gray cat in the clearing.

Mistyfoot's head was craned back at an awful angle. Her limps were splayed out before her, all twisted in agony, as Mothwing frantically tried to make the scene less horrific. When Mosspelt returned to Pebblepaw's side, he asked, "Is she…"

His mentor gave a grim nod, "She passed just a few moments ago." Mosspelt's tone was devoid of the normal scorn. Obviously, she carried great grief within herself. "I need some fresh air. Will you walk with me?"

Pebblepaw nodded, trailing after the tortoiseshell she-cat until they reached the WindClan border. The marshlands had thinned out into more solid ground here, and with a wail of grief, Mosspelt flopped down onto her side. "We weren't that close in age," she mewed finally. "But she was still one of my closest friends."

"Is Leopardstar doing any better?" Pebblepaw asked hopefully.

But Mosspelt simply shook her head. "None of us know where this sickness even came from. Mistyfoot was fine when she went to sleep last night! But she left her nest at moonhigh and just started convulsing. Mothwing hasn't seen anything like it before. She said Leopardstar's tremors keep getting worse."

A horrible thought struck Pebblepaw right in the chest. "Do you think she'll have enough time to appoint a new deputy?"

Mosspelt's blue eyes stretched wide, as if this was a thought she hadn't yet considered. Her fur fluffed up, and without another word, she tore off in the direction of camp, leaving Pebblepaw to stand there by himself. He cast his gaze to the sweeping moorlands. During the day, he liked to see if he could pick out the tawny-colored pelts of the WindClan warriors.

There was a part of him that had this odd urge to join them up on the moors. Something just seemed so… freeing about running unbidden through the air. Though, as he glanced down at his stalky frame, Pebblepaw knew he'd just look silly trying to run like them.

But, as Pebblepaw's gaze scanned the hills, he noticed two specks of color growing steadily larger as they neared the border. Trying to look as dignified as possible, Pebblepaw sat directly before the scent line, waiting for the cats to deliver their message. At first he expected hostility, but confusion set in as he realized one of the cats was Kestrelpaw, the medicine cat apprentice. He was joined by a single warrior, Whitetail.

"How can I help you two?" Pebblepaw asked warily.

Kestrelpaw and Whitetail exchanged a nervous glance, but finally the medicine cat apprentice burst out, "Can we speak to Mothwing? There's a terrible sickness in WindClan right now, and I need to know if she's heard of it before!"

"Barkface doesn't know what to do?" Pebblepaw asked in surprise.

Tears welled up in Kestrelpaw's eyes. "Barkface was the first to pass," he barely managed to choke out. "We tried going to ThunderClan already, but they wouldn't even let us cross the border. I think… I think the sickness is in their clan, too. The warriors we saw had ribs poking through their pelts. They were terrified."

Pebblepaw's eyes stretched wide with fear, but he dipped his head in understanding. He flicked his tail to the two WindClan cats to follow. "The sickness just started in our clan last night," he admitted. Though normally, the strict clan boundaries told Pebblepaw he shouldn't be sharing this sort of information, but a pit of dread had begun to form deep within his belly.

At camp, he watched Kestrelpaw bound off to find Mothwing. Pebblepaw almost didn't notice when his sister's gray and white pelt pushed into his own, but it was her words that shocked him into grief.

"Pebblepaw… Dawnflower has the sickness."

A/N: So I know it's a little bit short, but I'm trying to set up the personalities of all of the main characters! Next chapter will be from ShadowClan's perspective, but who did you like better? Minnowpaw or Pebblepaw?