Disclaimer: I do not own The Mr. Men Show or Warriors or any of their characters. But I own the idea for this story.

A warm breeze woke Mr. Small, but he didn't want to get up just yet. He's never had such a good night's sleep before, and he just wanted to stay in his bed and rest for a while longer. Eyes still closed, he reached out, blindly searching for his blanket to pull over his head to block out the chatter of birds.

But instead, he brushed up against something fuzzy, and for the first time he realized that he was laying on a flat surface. He felt around him some more, but he couldn't locate his cover or pillow. He was definitely not in his bed anymore.

As he wondered where he was, more confused than anything else, he started questioning other things like how he was able to feel the wind when he was supposed to be inside or how he was able to hear the birds so clearly. For a moment he thought maybe they just forgot to close the window last night, but then he realized that even if that was the case, it still didn't explain why he wasn't in his bed.

Blinking open his eyes, Mr. Small gasped, shocked at what he saw. He was curled up in what looked to be a nest made up of moss and ferns. Brambles twisted above his head while more stuck out of the walls of the den. He noticed a hole in the bush across from him, but he couldn't see where it led because of the morning sunlight shining through, blinding him and hiding what lay beyond his sleeping area.

Glancing down, he realized that he now had four paws instead of two feet; his body was covered with brown-and-gray fur. Something flicked at the edge of his vision, and he looked behind him to see a tail contacting his rear, slowly twitching, stirring the moss under him.

Great McGillicuddy, I'm a cat! His mind immediately flashed back to the book series he had been reading to his best friend. Am I part of a Clan? he wondered.

Mr. Small wasn't sure if he should be excited or worried. He had grown to love Warriors so much that he would often find himself thanking StarClan if something good happened or calling out for their help if he was in trouble. He had even started using Clan terms without realizing, and he knew his best friend, Mr. Nosy, did the same. And now, Mr. Small was a cat, most likely in a Clan; this might be his only chance to experience life as a real warrior instead of just reading about them!

Even though he was looking forward to doing the things the Clan cats did, anxiety still wormed in his belly. He wondered how he got here and if there were a way to get home. He loved the thought of becoming a warrior, but he knew he'd miss Dillydale and all of his friends.

There's no need to worry about any of that now, he told himself, deciding that while he was a part of this world, he should enjoy it and worry about getting home later. He stood up and shook out his pelt, knocking off the moss and ferns that clung to him. Then he jumped out of his nest. For a long moment he just stared down at his paws, trying to remember what ThunderClan cats did when they first woke up in the morning.

Lifting a paw, he brought it to his muzzle and licked it before drawing it over his ears in turn. He did this for a couple of heartbeats; suddenly he stopped mid-lick and blinked as he stared at a nest about a tail-length away. In it was a ball of fur, the side of the cat rising and falling as it slept.

Mr. Small stalked over there, his belly fur brushing the den floor. His ears twisted. This cat had a light gray pelt, and Mr. Small wondered who it could be. When he got to him, he poked the tabby gently with his paw.

The cat lifted his head sleepily and blinked open his eyes, revealing a purple gaze; to Mr. Small's amazement he noticed that there were darker gray rings around the tom's eyes that made it look like he was wearing glasses. As soon as he saw Mr. Small, he jumped to his paws. "Demon cat!" he mewed, frightened. "Don't hurt me!"

Mr. Small purred when he recognized his voice. He realized with a rush of relief that he wouldn't be lonely after all. His friends had followed him to this new world. Leaning closer to the light gray cat, he whispered to him," Everything's alright, Mr. Nervous. Keep your voice down, s'il vous plait." He paused for a moment before adding, still meowing quietly," It's me, Mr. Small."

"You're not Mr. Small!" the other tom responded, still looking terrified, and he started backing away. "Mr. Small is a—" He suddenly stopped mid-sentence when he glanced down at his feline features. "I'm a cat!" he yowled, eyes so wide that Mr. Small could see the white rims around them.

I need to quiet him down before he wakes every cat in here! Mr. Small thought urgently as he moved his gaze around the den, noticing more nests. He didn't want to disturb the others just yet if they were only going to freak out like Mr. Nervous.

"Shh!" the small cat hissed through clenched teeth. When the light gray tabby looked startled, he realized how harsh he sounded. Giving him an apologetic look, he whispered to him," We don't want to wake our friends." He gestured with his tail to the far side of the den where the rest of the nests were.

"B-But where a-are w-we?" Mr. Nervous stuttered, and he glanced around like he expected a horrible creature to barge right through the entrance of the den and attack him. But Mr. Small had knowledge of Clan life, so he knew they were safe here in camp. Beyond that, however, the forest was full of dangerous animals, such as foxes and badgers, hiding in wait for an unsuspecting cat to walk by...

He couldn't tell this to Mr. Nervous though; it would only frighten him more.

"I believe we are a part of a Clan," Mr. Small replied as he sat down in front of his friend, wrapping his tail tightly around his paws.

"A Clan?" the nervous cat echoed, putting his head to one side in confusion. He still seemed very nervous, but also curious, as if he really wanted to know what Mr. Small was talking about.

"Yes, a Clan." Mr. Small looked around the den at his sleeping friends. "Miss. Magic must have turned all of Dillydale into cats," he muttered to himself. Suddenly his pelt started itching with excitement. He remembered how worried he had been before she cast her spell, but now he didn't think it was such a bad idea after all, and he was glad they went to her.

His tail shot up as he jumped to his paws. "Clan life is great!" he cheered. For a moment he forgot about the need to be quiet, but when he remembered, he looked anxiously at his friends. They were still asleep.

Mr. Nervous blinked. "It is?" he questioned, sounding both nervous and confused.

In a low voice, Mr. Small told him the basics of Clan life, from when they wake up to when they climb into their nests after a hard day of patrolling and training. He also mentioned the special cats such as the leader and medicine cat that kept the Clan running smoothly.

"So now Dillydale is a Clan," Mr. Nervous murmured when Mr. Small finished meowing, and the light gray tabby looked down at his paws.

"Yes." Mr. Small nodded. Then he added," But I think it'd be called DillyClan now."

"DillyClan? What's a DillyClan?"

Mr. Small and Mr. Nervous turned to see a brown-and-white tom staring at them from where he still sat in his nest. Mr. Small padded over to the cat and blinked at him, trying to figure out who this was. Then he noticed his magenta-colored eyes and instantly recognized him when he thought back to his familiar voice.

"Mr. Scatterbrain?" he asked slowly, and the other tom nodded.

"Don't you notice anything different?" Mr. Nervous had followed Mr. Small over to Mr. Scatterbrain and now he sat beside the small cat.

Mr. Scatterbrain thought for a moment, studying his two friends in front of him. Finally, he answered cheerfully," You got a haircut!" The brown-and-white cat looked convinced that he got the question right.

"No, Mr. Scatterbrain," replied Mr. Small gently, shaking his head.

"We're cats!" Mr. Nervous blurted out loudly.

Mr. Small glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, raising his tail to silence his jumpy friend. But it was too late.

On the other side of the den, two more of their friends lifted their heads and turned to the toms. They jumped to their paws, seeming unaware of the change about themselves as they stared wide-eyed at the others.

Mr. Scatterbrain walked over to the she-cats and meowed calmly," We're cats."

"What?" the white she-cat exclaimed while the other one—a brown cat—burst into a series of meows that sounded like laughter.

I know who they are, Mr. Small thought. Out loud, he said," Calm down, Miss. Naughty." He padded to the white cat and put his tail on her shoulder in an assuring way, but she pulled away from him.

The other she-cat—who Mr. Small knew was Little Miss Giggles—continued to laugh.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Little Miss Naughty snapped. "What is going on?"

Once again Mr. Small explained that they were now cats and that they were a part of a Clan. By this point, Little Miss Giggles had stopped laughing, and she was staring unblinkingly at the small cat as he told them what was happening. It seemed like, for once, she realized the seriousness of the situation.

As he talked, Mr. Small noticed a cat still laying in a nest at the back of the den, and when he was done meowing, he decided to go wake him since everyone else was up. He poked his side, and the tom raised his cream-colored head, sleepily blinking open his eyes. Then he yawned, got to his paws, and extended his legs in turn. He paused halfway through his stretch and looked closer at Mr. Small, who was staring into the cat's green gaze, trying to figure out who this was.

"What's going on?" the cream-furred tom asked in a monotone voice.

"I'll explain later," Mr. Small promised, growing tired of giving a rundown of the situation to the ones who join the conversation right after he finished meowing. "First," he went on, turning back to his other friends," we need to call a meeting."

"A meeting?" Mr. Nervous echoed. "Why do we need a meeting?"

"So, we can explain what's going on to every cat," the small brown-and-gray tom answered. He walked over to the hole in the den that acted as the entrance.

"Every cat?" Mr. Lazy, the cream-furred cat, blinked a few times. Then he laid back down in his nest, curling up in the moss. He yawned once more and closed his eyes, not waiting for a reply. But one of his ears twitched as if he was still listening to his friends.

At least he isn't freaking out, Mr. Small thought as he glanced at the lazy tom. He felt grateful. But I still have to explain everything to the rest of them. Maybe Mr. Nosy could help me, but he's not in this den, and I don't know what cat he is.

His gaze moved over the four cats in front of him—Mr. Lazy was fast asleep once again, his soft snores filling the den as his side raised and fell.

"We just need to calm down and… and… check the other dens," the small cat finally decided; he could see how worried and uncertain his friends were about this whole thing. "It's going to be okay," he assured them. "Mr. Nosy and I have read the first series of Warriors, and we know almost everything about Clan life."

All four cats stared at him blankly. It was clear that they weren't registering what he was telling them. It felt like his words were going in one ear and right out the other. He sighed. This is going to be harder than I thought.

"Okay, look," he started, wanting them to at least relax, before they did something foolish, even if he had to lie to them. "This isn't much different than our old life."

"Really?" Little Miss Naughty growled, and she flexed her claws, digging them into the ground. "Last time I checked we weren't cats! But now we have tails and claws and fur!" She flicked her tail at Mr. Small. "It's a huge difference!"

She's right, but I have to think of something to calm them down. "Other than our appearances, this is just like Dillydale," Mr. Small insisted.

"What happened to DillyClan?" Mr. Nervous asked.

"Huh?" Mr. Small had to think for a moment before it came back to him. "Oh! Right, DillyClan. Well, we are a Clan now."

"So, now you're changing the town's name?" Little Miss Naughty challenged as she circled the small cat, glaring at him. "Who made you the leader of this crisis?"

"This isn't a crisis," Mr. Small objected, following the she-cat with his eyes. "But we are cats in a different world now, so I don't see the point in keeping the name of our town. We are a Clan," he repeated.

Little Miss Naughty came to a halt beside the other cats and exchanged a look with Little Miss Giggles.

"Then if we are cats in a Clan," Mr. Scatterbrain started, but he paused for a couple of heartbeats, and when he opened his mouth again, he was talking about something else. "What do Clan cats do?"

Mr. Small didn't like that he had to keep repeating himself. "I'll explain all that during the meeting," he promised his friend, pushing down his frustration.

"But how do we even know if there are more cats here?" Little Miss Giggles suddenly questioned. She had been sitting next to her friends, for once not laughing and when she spoke, it was almost in a whisper.

She must be scared, Mr. Small guessed, realizing how serious she was taking this situation while in their old world, she would giggle at every little thing. His gaze scanned over the rest of the cats, noticing their twitching tails and the worry sparkling in their eyes. They are all scared.

"We have to check the other dens," he told them for a second time.

"What other dens?" Mr. Nervous asked, his voice shaking.

"I don't see any other dens," Mr. Scatterbrain added, and he looked around like he expected the rest of camp to be connected directly to the bush they were under right now.

"There's more out there." Mr. Small pointed with his tail to the entrance of the den. Every cat turned to where he was gesturing.

"O-Out th-there?" Mr. Nervous stammered, beginning to tremble with fear. He crouched down and wrapped his tail around his body as if to shield himself from danger. "W-Who knows what's o-out th-there?"

"It's the main clearing," Mr. Small reassured him. "We are inside camp right now."

"What's outside camp?" Little Miss Naughty asked, still looking very upset, but she sat down and curled her tail over her paws, her purple gaze revealing her confusion.

Mr. Small thought about that for a moment. "In the books, ThunderClan lives in an oak forest," he finally answered," while ShadowClan has made their home in the marshlands with pine trees. WindClan's camp is on the moor, and RiverClan has a territory where a river separates them from ThunderClan and they also have a stream that goes around their camp for extra protection." As he spoke, he used his claws to trace out the Clan territories. Each book has a map in the front and as he drew his own right now, pictures of the real Clans' lands flashed through his mind.

But the four cats just stared at him, looking overwhelmed with the information he was giving them. Out of the corner of his eye, Mr. Small saw Mr. Lazy lifting his head, but the cream-furred tom stayed in his nest at the back of the den. He blinked at his friends like he was trying to grasp an understanding of what he just heard.

"Let's just go and wake the others," Mr. Small finally meowed, erasing his work in the sand with his paw. Still his friends didn't move, only continued to stare at him which was making him very uncomfortable. "Come on," he encouraged them, and he gestured to the entrance of the den before pushing his way through the brambles, entering the main clearing for the first time ever.

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