-Chapter One-

It wasn't my fault that I caught a tiny mouse and then ate it myself! How was I supposed to know that Scarletstreak's little rats needed the food more than I do? How was I supposed to know that they even eat meat yet? Sheesh, I didn't think they did.

So now I'm sitting out in the cold of leafbare, and it's snowing. Everyone thinks I'm supposed to like snow, since my name is Snowypaw, but I hate the stuff. It sticks to my fur and makes me itch. I know that seems weird, but it does. The annoying thing is that no other cat seems to feel that way.

I can sense the eyes of my Clan watching me out of their nice, warm dens disapprovingly. I've let them down again. Once again I've proved I'm not as great as my oh-so-wonderful parents, Hawkstar and Ashstorm.

I'm not as great as them, though.

I think they know that.

They really don't want to admit it, though.

-Chapter Two-

Wow, it's cold out. My first leafbare night, and I'm spending it sitting outside freezing my tail off. It'd be cooler if it was my warrior ceremony. "Snowycloud! Snowycloud!" or something of the sort would be echoing in the air. But no-oh, it's because I'm in trouble.

Dad's eyes were angry when he looked down at me. Angry green eyes that pierced my soul—I haven't just let down my Clan, I've let down him and Mom.

I can still hear his deep voice echoing in my head, bouncing around with the jumbled, hungry cries of Scarletstreak's kits. "Snowypaw, your mother and I are very disappointed in you. We thought that we had taught you better."

They did teach me well, is the thing. Mom used to go over the warrior code almost every day, whispering it in my tiny ears like it was a message from StarClan—which in some way, it was. But it was mainly made up by cats like us—if they think it's a good idea, they add it to the code. Okay, then, "let's all have peace forever!" No. Not happening.

Yeah, I learned the code.

But do I care?

Not in the slightest.

-Chapter Three-

I'm hungry now, too. Dad forbade me to eat any prey whatsoever. My stomach feels like somebody carved a hole straight out of it, I'm so empty. That mouse that I ate before the kits got a chance to feels like a million sunrises ago—and it wasn't even very big. A scrawny little thing, really. No meat on it. Just fur and bones—why I even bothered catching the thing is beyond me.

I want, more than anything, to yell at the sky, and wake up the whole camp. I want them to see that I'm not the perfect little princess they all want me to be. I want them to see that I'm just another cat. Not special. Not different. Just me.

I chuckled, creating a small puff of mist in the freezing night air. Yeah, like that's going to happen anytime soon.

Well, I suppose I could think about myself, and my life, while I'm sitting here. I don't really have anything better to do, do I? Watch grass grow is one option—thrilling. And listening to the warriors snore is another. Goodness—Mother snores so loud that it's embarrassing. It's not like I'm ever going to tell her, though.

I've decided—I'll think about myself.

Now, where to begin? My life is so jumbled up, it's like a snake twisted around and around again into one big jumble…I think that the Twolegs call it a "knot…"

-Chapter Four-

When every cat learned that Ashstorm was going to have Hawkstar's kits, they knew that her kits would be just perfect. They had to be, after all. What else could they be? Kits of the leader and deputy? They'd be the princes and princesses of BerryClan!

My supposed siblings and I were the talk of our Clan for moons, Ashstorm used to tell me. They whispered about how the kits would be the next rulers of the Clan. Leader, deputy, medicine cat, senior warriors…every high position one can think of, they filled my name and my supposed unborn siblings in that slot.

When Ashstorm was giving birth, practically the whole Clan was gathered outside the nursery. They were waiting…waiting for the news. How many kits would she have? Were they she-kits or toms? Would they look like her or Hawkstar, their father?

Well, instead of all of the five kits the Clan had been imagining, they got me, the little puffy menace, and a stillborn tom.

I looked nothing like either of my parents—neither of them was white, or even had traces of white anywhere on them.

The little tom looked just like Ashstorm, with little brown paws the same shade as Hawkstar's fur color. Mom named him Hawkkit, back when she was delirious from giving birth and thought that he was alive.

Something tells me that if he had survived, the Clan would like him a lot more than they'd ever like me.

-Chapter Five-

I didn't mean to cause every member of the Clan trouble at some time or another. It just…happened! Some cat annoyed me, I put a bramble in their nest, the next morning they went to see Pinewhisker limping.

My only friend was Mistykit, who is just half a moon older than I am. She and I love to play jokes on the camp, even now, when we're both apprentices. Her brother is named Skypaw, and he's medicine cat apprentice. He's kind of cute, but is really uptight, and doesn't often talk to us much. I don't think he likes me. I don't think that anyone but Mistypaw likes me much.

Mistypaw has always been there for me. When I got in trouble when we were kits for something we both did (put a fire ant in Shadowheart the elder's nest when he yelled at us for being too loud), she turned herself in and we bore the punishment together.

She's the most loyal, honest, dependable cat I know. I love her for that. I don't think we'll ever not be friends. We're joined at the hip—as tight as two stars in StarClan.

I hope that if Mistypaw is to die, I die on the same day so that I don't have to spend more than a sunrise without her.