StarClan isn't real..

Chapter 1

Yellowkit's first memory was being carried across the cold moor, her pelt sticky with a substance she didn't understand. Then she was placed in a soft moss nest and her fur was slicked back by the tongue of her mother, Blacktooth. There had been strange bundles moving around her, with soft, fluffy fur and annoying, loud mewls. Yellowkit had remained in complete darkness, comforted by the peacefulness of her life. Today was a morning unlike no other; dawn light was streaming through whatever the nursery was made of, landing on Yellowkit's pelt.

Blacktooth shifted, and Yellowkit felt a tongue run along her pelt. She purred and nestled closer to her mother's fur. Everything was quiet, with Blacktooth quietly humming, when suddenly something kicked Yellowkit in the flank.

"Take that, stupid badger!"

Logkit.

Yellowkit groaned.

"Grr! I'm a badger and I will never be defeated!" That was Finchkit. Yellowkit assumed the two kits- plus Blacktooth's other kit, Fallowkit- were her littermates. She didn't want, nor need littermates. Yellowkit wanted Blacktooth all to herself, and maybe she wouldn't mind them as much if they didn't spend their mornings wrestling and playing their stupid games.

"Kits!" Blacktooth scolded. "You hurt Yellowkit! Don't play so roughly."

Fallowkit's whiny voice spoke up. "Were just playing!"

"Yeah, it's not our fault that thing is as weak as a dead rat." Logkit sneered. Yellowkit wasn't sure who he was talking about, then she felt Logkit's gaze rake her pelt, and she realized he was talking about her.

Blacktooth spoke up again. "Yellowkit, you mean?"

"Yellowkit, Shmellowkit." Finchkit sneered. "She's so weird! She hasn't even opened her eyes yet!"

Opened my eyes yet?

Yellowkit didn't want to open her eyes. She was comfortable in her safe void, the warm darkness closing around in her pelt every second. She didn't want to face the cruelness of the world, not yet. But she didn't want her littermates to speak so cruely about her either, like she was just a piece of fresh-kill they could play with. I'll show them! With an inward groan, Yellowkit stretched open her eyes and was immediatly faced with smoky black fur, smelling strongly of her mother. She turned and recoiled at the sights her gaze was holding.

The world was horrible! The sun was bright and hot, shining through a hole in the gorse den that made the nursery. The kits were staring at her, and Yellowkit felt a flash of satisfaction at their bewildered expression.

"Finally!" Finchkit growled. She was a gray she-cat with six toes on one of her forepaws.

Logkit curled his lip in a snarl. "About time you opened your eyes," He growled, clearly trying to hide his shock. "We opened our eyes moons ago." He was a black and gray tom with pale amber eyes. Something about him told Yellowkit that she'd better not mess with him... he looked strong, for a kit, and somehow older than Yellowkit, even though she thought they were born at the same time.

Fallowkit was also black and gray, like his littermates. "Are you ready to play now?"

Yellowkit nodded, but she wanted to see her own pelt first. She glanced down at her paws. They were ginger, but as she looked farther up, she noticed her fur was yellow, but her faded to ginger on her paws. She turned her head and tried to look at her tail. It seemed too short for a normal cat. Yellowkit glanced at her littermates; they all had long, slim tails. Looking at Blacktooth, Yellowkit noticed that she also had a slim, long tail. She was also smoky gray, not ginger or yellow.

"Who's our father?" Yellowkit asked.

"Um," Blacktooth mewed. She exchanged a glance with a brown tabby queen; Yellowkit thought her name was Nettlestem. The tabby shrugged, and Blacktooth looked back at Yellowkit. "Beetleshine. He is a great warrior."

Yellowkit's paws shifted. "What color is his pelt?"

"White."

"But that doesn't make sense!" Yellowkit pushed herself to her paws and stuck out her small tail to keep balance. "Why do I have ginger and yellow fur, if you all are gray and black?" Did she have some kind of genetic mutation? Or did she just have a unique color? That would be okay, she supposed. Then she would look cooler and more unique then her littermates!

Blacktooth shook her head. "You're still my kit," She promised. She bent her head to lick Yellowkit's head, then turned to her kits. "How about you two give her a tour of the camp, eh?"

She gave her kits a stern look, with something hidden inside them. A secret? Yellowkit thought. She shook the thought away. She trusted her mother.

"Fine, come on." Logkit growled.

The three kits hurried out of the nursery. Yellowkit gulped, facing the golden sunlight. Her vision had adjusted, so it didn't hurt to look at it anymore, but she was still nervous. She didn't want to be out of the nursery; it was already crowded, and she could already smell the scents of cats outside. But she didn't want to be called a mouse-heart by her littermates, so she took a deep breath and clawed her way towards the entrance. The light was much more vivid, and it took her a moment for her vision to clear when she emerged into the open air.

Yellowkit stared across the camp. It was a sandy hollow with tall walls, and on the top of the hollow was gorse and heather bushes. In the middle of the hollow was a dark granite boulder. A gorse bush was at the edge of the hollow, with a boulder next to it. Next to the nursery was a scraped-out cave with a gorse screen covering it. A small tortoiseshell she-cat sat outside the den, a row of leaves laid out in the sun.

At the far end of the clearing was a den of gorse, like the nursery. Beside it was a pile of smooth, low rocks in the grass nearby. The rocks were surrounded by heather and moss. An additional rock cluster was near the gorse den.

The final thing in the camp was a gorse bush at the edge of the clearing. A white tom sat in front of the gorse bush, staring across the camp. Yellowkit stared in awe at him, then realized she had no idea where Finchkit, Logkit, and Fallowkit where.

"Bugbrain, over here!"

Yellowkit felt a flash of relief when she heard Logkit's voice, and she spotted him next to the boulder near the gorse bush, with Finchkit and Fallowkit beside him. Yellowkit hurried over, her paws already aching as she ran across the sandy ground. When she reached the kits, Logkit spoke up. "This is the apprentices' den," He purred. "We'll be sleeping here in a few moons."

They headed over to the gorse screen and slipped through a gap that Yellowkit hadn't noticed before. The tortoiseshell drying herbs outside said something, but Yellowkit ignored her and followed her littermates into the cave.

The cave was dark and smelled strongly of herbs. There was a wide stone at the edge of the cave, along with piles of herbs in the wall and piles on the floor. A handsome dark gray tom with smoky black stripes was sorting a pile of leaves, and he turned when the kits entered the den.

"Oh, hello." He eyed Yellowkit. "You're awake, are you?"

Yellowkit nodded.

"My name is Weedtooth," The tom purred. "I'm Blacktooth's mother. She was very excited when Deadbee's patrol brought you back."

"Deadbee?"

Weedtooth's eyes widened, as if he had just made a crucial mistake. "Nevermind. I'm feverish, I-"

"Oh, Yellowkit?" The tortoiseshell outside the den poked her head in, her eyes sympathetic and guilty. "Blacktooth hasn't told you already?" Yellowkit suddenly understood the hostile looks her "littemates" had given her. She whimpered and braced herself for the tortoiseshell's words. "Yellowkit, you aren't Blacktooth's kit."