A/N: I came back from my grandma's yesterday to find in my inbox a most delightful surprise (No, that wasn't sarcasm and it wasn't poop)- In addition to having Dragonclaw11 come back, which is awesome, but I also got a bunch of reviews, a couple favorite story things and story alert things. Very cool. Thank you guys! Anyway, my gramma gave me all these books on writing and they all say pretty much the same thing; write all that you can without going back and correcting anything or editing anything, even typos like hte instead of the, or changing wordings or anything, until you have all the raw material down. I'm going to try it. Of course, I'll go back and fix my errors at the end. :)


When Russetfur woke the following morning with her stomach twisted and tied tin knots, she knew something bad had either happened or was happening. She also knew she was right when she remembered about Brokentail. He had gone to the Moonstone, and the sinking feeling probably meant that StarClan, in spites of all his shortcomings, had given him his nine lives and his name. Brokenstar. The name didn't quite fit in her mind, like she couldn't even grasp the fact that a cat half her age, who was cunning and deceitful, and used coercion, was her leader. Her leader! She shuddered at the thought, knowing that other cats would have the same reaction, even those who did not know of his a e vile actions. Simply his age would make would shock them.

His youth and nine more lives meant he was also likely to lead her Clan for a very long time. She winced at the thought, remembering her father's own very short leadership, and Raggedstar's, which had lasted less than she had been alive. Pondering that fact, she wondered something very grim; the cat that murdered him, and it surprised her how easily she accepted that that was what happened, might have had to kill him multiple times. Many times, maybe. he wasn't very old and he couldn't have lost too many lives. Maybe in the battle with WindClan, or with ThunderClan, or the rats. But even if he had lost two lives in each battle, which didn't seemed very likely, he would still have had three lives left.

The thought did not leave her and she got to her paws and stretched, feeling the weight in her stomach, which seemed to swell enormously every day. She padded slowly to the fresh-kill pile. A crow cawed overhead, and she instinctively looked up at it. It flew away, but in its wake she saw a sight that was far more forbidding- the full moon shone in the sky. That in itself was not the frightening part, the fact that Brokenstar would be going to the Gathering was. When he was an apprentice, he had gotten into a fight with another cat at the Gathering and while Raggedstar had still taken him along to every single Gathering, his behavior never improved very much. Whether this was the result of a lack of discipline from his mentor, his bitter and angry adoptive mother's disgust for him, or a combination of the two, he was never a good cat to have at a Gathering, and now he was leading the Clan to one! Not only that, but Russetfur wouldn't be going because of her pregnancy, so she would have no idea what the tom would do, or if the rest of the cats were even still alive. Who knew- Brokenstar would launch an attack at a Gathering without blinking an eye, she presumed bitterly.

When a voice behind her asked, "Trouble deciding?", Russetfur suddenly realized that she had been standing in front of the fresh-kill pile for a long time, lost in thought and staring off into space.* She turned around sharply, the hair on her spine bristling a little bit in spite of her knowing that the voice belonged to Nightpelt. The large black-furred tom smiled with his sad little smile, his eyes morose.

"What's wrong, Nightpelt?" she asked hesitantly, knowing long it had been since she last spoke to him.

He shrugged, answering only,"Nothing," but a glance at her swollen belly gave him away.

"Nightpelt, I-" Russetfur started pleadingly, before breaking off. She couldn't tell him here, in camp, and she couldn't tell him now. She couldn't tell him at all. When he looked at her that way she felt ashamed, even guilty. She knew that was ridiculous, that it wasn't her fault, and that even if it had been her decision, she shouldn't have to answer to her former apprentice for that. "Nightpelt," she started again, this time with a voice of mingled defiance and threat, "That's none of your-" The moment the word 'none' had passed her lips, he had turned and sullenly started to walk away. "Business." She muttered darkly.

Finally looking down at the pile of prey, she didn't feel hungry anymore. In fact, she felt rather sick as she looked up to see that her sister, Tallpoppy, had seen the whole incident from where the was grooming her fur in the sunlight. Her eyes wide and curious, the long-legged tabby padded over and asked curiously, "What was all that about? Is Nightpelt the father?" Blushing through her fur, Russetfur dug her claws into the earth.

"No, he's not. And he's just being a jerk. A jerk who doesn't understand anything." she growled.

Tallpoppy's face broke into a slow smile. "Oh, I think you like that tom. I think you like him very much, Russetfur. Even if he isn't the father, not that I believe you. i bet every one of those kits come out with black fur and amber eyes, and then who will you say is your babies' daddy?" The warrior laughed devilishly and licked the top of her sister's head almost condescendingly.

Russetfur's ears flattened, but she was glad to see Tallpoppy happy again. She had fallen into a dark sort of sadness after Crowtail died in the storm. While she herself had never been close to her mother, she still felt the pain of losing her, but not as much as Tallpoppy and definitely not as much as Cedarheart, who had been closest to her. She and Rowanclaw were furthest from Crowtail, always impatient with her babying of Cedarheart- then Cedarkit. Foxheart and Oakfur were a little more distant than Tallpoppy but not to Russetfur and Rowanclaw's degrees. But Runningnose...The medicine cat missed her desperately, as much as Cedarheart or Vinesplash missed her. The others, Duskfeather, Skyheart, and Owlflight all hurt when she died, but again had been distant.

She seemed to see more and more of Owlflight lately. The young tom obviously had a thing for Dustfang, and was always badgering Russetfur to help him figure out what to say to her, or asking about her. "You're my half-sister." he said as an excuse when she exasperatedly asked him why she had to help him with all of this. "That's why you came to me, the romantically stunted, mean, charming-as-a-dead-frog she-cat. Because we're kin. Not because I was Dustfang's mentor?" she had replied scathingly. He shrugged, but still asked her about things. She didn't mind really, and she thought it most amusing how Dustfang was completely clueless about it all.

The thought brought a smile to her face, which she quickly erased for fear of Tallpoppy thinking it meant something else. A moment later, though, the smile vanished for real as Brokenstar came out of the leader's den- his den. "ShadowClan!" he called halfheartedly. He appeared to have abandoned the age-old tradition of telling them to gather under HighBranch. "I have decided those who will be coming to the Gathering with me, but two of them are cats you have never met." Russetfur exchanged confused glances with Tallpoppy. A silver-gray tom with startlingly blue eyes emerged from Brokenstar's den, a skinny brown tom right behind him.

"These cats are Boulder and Nightwhisper. They will be part of ShadowClan. They will be valuable warriors to us. Now, the other cats to go to FourTrees will be Runningnose, Blackfoot, Jaggedtooth, Wetfoot, Snaketail, Ratscar, Stonetooth, and Brownpaw, who has finally recovered enough from his extensive injuries to join us and return to training tomorrow." Brokenstar announced. Russetfur looked around to see that Brownpaw, who was now a fully grown tom, not much younger than her. His injuries, first with WindClan, then the rats, then the storm, had delayed his apprenticeship for a very long time. He had a very tired, hopeless look to his eyes now, befittingly.

However, as Russetfur moved her gaze from the old apprentice, she realized that every single cat in that party was a tom. Feeling ever so slightly miffed, she wondered what the motive behind that was. Brokenstar had to have one. He always did. She also noted that none of the cats that had ever openly spoken against him- Cinderfur, Ashfur, Nightpelt, Tanglepaw, Whitewater, and Owlflight sprang to mind- were included, either. That was a little more understandable, if it was still wrong.

Russetfur shrugged at Tallpoppy, who was obviously considering his choices too, before returning to the nursery for a good long nap.


It was late evening when Russetfur woke again. She was a little surprised, since she had slept soundly through the night the previous night. What woke her was a strong bout of nausea. It wasn't uncommon now, with her pregnancy, so she knew the drill. She hurried quickly outside to the dirtplace to retch. But by the time she got there, the nausea had passed. Russetfur held back a sigh. If she threw up, it didn't normally come back for a while, but now she was bound to wake in another few hours to the same feeling. She turned to go back inside the camp when urgent, lowered voices came from the undergrowth a little ways away. She crouched low and pricked her ears.

"Listen, you stupid vermin, I don't care how badly your shoulder hurts. Nightwhisper, I let you and Boulder into my Clan as reinforcements. The other cats will hunt and you will have food. Do whatever you want with any she-cat you want." The voices were too quiet to hear for a moment before the first voice came back firmer and louder. "You will come to this Gathering, and you will fight in the battles. And their will be battles. WindClan might be full of weaklings and cowards, but they probably won't hand their territory over until we kill a couple of their kits or apprentices or something. It'll be easy."

A moment later, what Russetfur assumed was Nightwhisper's voice responded, "Don't you have some sort of healer cat, Brokenstar? Can't he fix it?"

Brokenstar? Brokenstar had told the new cat to do whatever he wanted t the she-cats of the Clan? Anger boiled in Russetfur. How dare he! A snort preceded the reply. "We have three "healer cats" and they're worth about as much as pile of dead leaves. One's too sad about his dead mate to do much, one's a she-cat, and the last has about as many smarts as a kit." Her leader had to be talking about Little cloud with that last comment. You're a kit to him, foxdung! She longed to say.

A rustling from across the way made the pair of them stop talking. "Go back to camp, Nightwhisper, until the Gathering. I'll check this out. I think it came from the Dirtplace..." He said the last part mostly to himself as the tom hurried back to camp. Knowing she didn't have time to run or to hide, she simply turned away and scraped earth over an empty spot. "Russetfur?" her leader's voice came, his eyes peering through the darkness. She made the hair on her spine lift.

"Brokenstar! You frightened me." she said with wide eyes, hoping desperately that he would fall for her act.

Brokenstar seemed to, as he relaxed. "Sorry," he said, still somewhat tersely.

"Okay, well, I'm headed back to camp." she yawned largely. "I'm awfully tired." Without waiting for a reply, she padded back, not breathing properly until she was back in the nursery. Gauging the light from the mouth of the den, the Gathering cats would leave fairly soon. What had Brokenstar said about taking WindClan's territory? Curiosity, worry, and fear all blended together in her throat, making it close tight.

I have to go to that Gathering! Russetfur thought. She waited silently, brooding. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she watched the patrol leave through barely open eyes. Looking around to see that Flamesong, Brightflower, and Shadestorm were asleep, she crept slowly out of the den. She thought one of Brightflower's kits might have seen her, but she shrugged it off. They were only three or four moons; they shouldn't suspect her of doing something wrong.

It was a simple matter to follow the patrol from a safe distance, she was only afraid that her trail would be scented when they returned. Stonetooth was lagging behind a bit, which was understandable, given his age, so Russetfur used the sight of his tailtip as reference to how close the rest of the patrol was. As they passed under the ThunderPath and into FourTrees, Russetfur realized that they were a bit late to the Gathering so it would start fairly soon after they got there, so she had to find a good hiding place, and fast. Finally, she chose a young tree that was just close enough to hear the leaders as they spoke and short enough for a quick escape, but with thick enough foliage to keep her hidden from wandering eyes. With a pang, she realized that this was the same tree that Nightpelt had climbed at his first Gathering, when he was Nightpaw.

She quickly scaled the tree and crouched stiffly in one of the lowest branches, but out enough for the leaves to shelter her from. She prayed silently to StarClan that no one had seen her. No cat yowled at her, so she assumed they didn't. She glanced down and licked her belly to comfort herself and to comfort her kits, if they somehow knew what was going on. The Gathering started. ThunderClan, RiverClan, and WindClan reported very little of importance. By the time Brokenstar stepped up to speak, last, Russetfur was completely on edge, her claws sunken deeply into the branch she crouched on. Her muscles were weary of staying in the same position, but she was too afraid of creating a attention-calling rustle to move.

"Hello. I am grieved to tell you that my father, Raggedstar, has gone to StarClan. But he is happy there, I know. I received my nine lives and my name, and appointed Blackfoot as my deputy." There were a few cheers from the other Clans, which Blackfoot accepted modestly, but most of the cats, as far as Russetfur could tell, were still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that Raggedstar was gone and that Brokentail was now Brokenstar.

"But that is not much of a problem compared to what is plaguing us now. Our queens have had so many kits, my fellow warriors, that we cannot support them anymore. And how bad off will we be in leaf-bare if we are struggling now. So I ask WindClan for help. Please, Tallstar. Our kits are starving, and there are plenty more on the way. You give us hunting rights in your territory." Gasps erupted from the Clan, and Russetfur had to restrain herself from letting one out herself. Brokenstar was lying! They had enough prey, and there were only six kits in the nursery! But he sounded so sure, so smooth.

Tallstar looked at the ShadowClan cats. "Brokenstar, I cannot allow this. The Clans have never shared hunting ground before, and now is no time to start. Regardless, your warriors do not seem underfed."

"Tallstar, do you see that there are no she-cats among ShadowClan tonight? This is because they have taken the brunt of the suffering. They refuse fresh-kill, saying that the toms should keep their strength up to defend our Clan. And look at Brownpaw. He's been protecting us so long that he is still an apprentice because of his injuries. The said tom stared hollowly at the ground, scars clearly visible. He just didn't seem to care anymore, no matter how much his leader used him. "So I ask you again for help. We need more prey, or our kits and our she-cats will die."

The WindClan leader Russetfur so despised seemed to consider it for a second, but he held firm in his decision. "No. The Clans do not share hunting right or hunting grounds. Let this Gathering be finished!" The cats started to dispel without further words, so Russetfur shot down the tree and rocketed away through the bracken, needing to get back to camp ahead of them. She didn't have time to mask her scent, so she simply hoped the cats didn't notice. She ran as fast as she could, which wasn't too fast, considering her pregnancy. Still, ShadowClan seemed to be taking their time, so she made it in time.

She curled up in her nest, trying not to pant for breath, taking slow, rattling ones to slow her heart instead, though it took longer. She pondered what was to happen next. Hadn't Brokenstar said something about attacking WindClan in the bushes outside the Dirtplace? She shuddered. They were going to attack another Clan for no good reason, she knew it. Russetfur stared at the den wall, visions of the bloody battle to come playing across her field of vision.


A/N: Did you see the asterisk (*) up there? That's where I quit using the method mentioned above. Couldn't do it. My impulse to correct as I go is just... unquashable. Not that that's a word, but yeah. Anyway, have you heard of NaNoWriMo? I'll be doing it this November... Do any of you do it? If you don't, you should check it out. Just type NaNoWriMo into google. It'll show up. :) I'm glad this chapter's a long one. Brokenstar's a real piece of work. A big ol' corn dog face, in my opinion.