Leopardkit sat very still in the center of camp, her frantic amber gaze scanning the unfamiliar, shadowy surroundings. The tall pines stretched up to the darkening ashen sky all around her, like silent monsters. The thick bramble fortress rising up around the hollow was undoubtedly impenetrable. There was no escape.

She shivered, but not because of the cold of night pricking at her pelt.

The haggard shadowClan warriors milled around camp with labored breathing, hardly noticing her at first. They were busy licking their fresh wounds and checking on their injured Clanmates. A large white tom with black ears and a dark tail streaked between the warriors, marigold clamped in his jaws. A tense, angry mood hung over the ShadowClan cats like a storm cloud.

Soon, however, several pairs of eyes turned toward the center of camp, where Wolfsong sat tall and proud, his broad shoulders squared. His white fur was lurid, even in the falling dusk. His nose bore several claw marks, but the massive warrior ignored the dark blood seeping from it. At his huge paws, a thin, spotted she-kit crouched, quivering in the cold. Shocked whispers came from all around.

The lean she-cat from before approached Wolfsong warily, her head held high and eyes narrowed. Up close, Leopardkit could see all the crimson scratches marring her pristine, patched silver coat. Her blue eyes were icy when they landed on the she-kit.

"Wolfsong," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Why, in the name of StarClan, did you take one of ThunderClan's kits? What were you thinking?"

The ragged white tom stared back at her, unflinching. "I was thinking about ShadowClan's supply of warriors," he retorted, narrowing his own cold eyes. "We are the smallest Clan, and we're vulnerable because of it."

Leopardkit realized in an instant that the silver she-cat was ShadowClan's cold-blooded leader, Flowerstar. The she-cat pulled back her lips in a snarl of frustration. "Are you mad? We have two litters of kits in the nursery! We don't need to steal kits from ThunderClan!" she casted a brief glance in Leopardkit's direction, ear flicking disdainfully. "Especially such thin ones. This could cause a war!"

Wolfsong pinned his ears back defensively. "Well, we obviously don't have to keep it. We can do whatever we want with it: hold it for ransom, or..." Wolfsong's blue gaze shifted down to the she-kit, gleaming darkly. "We could make an example of it."

      A flutter of panic burst from Leopardkit's chest. She could only imagine the terrors that the fierce ShadowClan cats were capable of. By the end of the night, she would be crowfood.

A sharp, angry hiss escaped Flowerstar's jaws, making Leopardkit flinch. "Enough with your scare tactics, Wolfsong!" she snapped. "You know the consequences of harming a kit!"

     Wolfsong only snorted in response, a look of amusement on his face. Casting the white warrior a sharp glare, the Flowerstar whipped around and stalked toward the edge of camp. The entirety of the Clan watched closely as their leader walked, lean muscles rolling beneath her sleek fur. With a graceful leap, the lithe silver she-cat sprang up to a thick branch which overshadowed the clearing. She sat on her thin haunches, scanning the camp. "All cats old enough to hunt, gather for a Clan meeting!" her clear voice rang out.

     Her summons was unnecessary, as most of the battle-worn warriors already sat out in the hollow, their curious gazes watching Leopardkit as if she were a piece of prey. They slowly grouped together underneath the giant tree branch, muttering amongst themselves. A muscular pale ginger tom made his way to the roots of the tree and sat, his expression stony. His hind leg bore deep bite marks and was bleeding dark blood, but the warrior showed no sign of distress.

      Leopardkit gulped. Her body felt frozen, her mind struggling to comprehend all that was going on. All she knew for sure was that something bad was coming.

      Flowerstar waited a few heartbeats, her icy eyes traveling over the crowd. The warriors sat attentively, fresh blood coating their ragged pelts. Their eyes glowed in the darkness.

      "Those ThunderClan rogues may think they have won," Flowerstar began calmly, her voice drifting easily across the camp like a breeze. Leopardkit pricked her ears to listen. "But, don't be grieved, my Clan, for we have emerged with the true victory!" She gestured with a flick of her long tail toward Ratwhisker. The lanky tom sat at the base of the tree next to the deputy, who fixed him with a suspicious glare. He held the catmint leaves in his jaws proudly, head high and tail flicking haughtily.

     Leopardkit glared at the sand-colored tom. That belongs to Firetail! she thought with a surge of anger as ShadowClan's two medicine cats retrieved what was left of the precious herb. Instantly, a gut-crushing bout of grief hit her as she remembered, the fire in her eyes quickly fading to deep sorrow.

       A few triumphant yowls erupted from the crowd, floating up among the pines, but skeptical murmurs also arose among them. Flowerstar did not miss them, her angular head snapping toward the grumbling cats. Her cold gaze landed on one warrior in particular. "Is there a problem, Pebblefrost?" she asked icily.

The she-cat, one with amber-colored fur and a white throat, stared right back. She had a deep wound on her broad shoulder that still oozed crimson blood. "Yes," Pebblefrost said evenly. "You sent us right into the heart of ThunderClan—their camp—for a couple of dried leaves!" The she-cat's voice rose steadily as she spoke, tail lashing. "And now, my mate is fighting for his life in the medicine den!"

A few gasps came from a crowd, and a couple cats stood up to make their way toward the medicine den.

Flowerstar's loud snarl stopped them in their tracks. "No one is leaving this meeting!" she spat furiously, suddenly on her paws. The silver she-cat turned back to Pebblefrost, her blue eyes firm. "Like all of us, Prickleface made an oath to protect this Clan with his life," Flowerstar explained deliberately, her voice eerily calm. "If StarClan takes him tonight, then we will honor his sacrifice and he will be greatly missed. Death is always a risk in battle. Everyone knows that."

Pebblefrost sprang to her paws, amber pelt bristling. "This battle was unnecessary!" she retorted. "It was a suicide mission to attack their camp! We were outnumbered!"

Flowerstar's thin hackles raised and she stood up on the branch, making it waver. "Do you dare defy the word of our ancestors?" At that, Pebblefrost fell silent. She closed her jaws, but her hard stare did not soften.

     Flicking an ear in satisfaction, Flowerstar shifted her attention to the entire Clan. "The prophecy that Patchtail received was a grim warning," she continued loudly, lashing her slim tail. "Great misfortune will fall on ShadowClan this leaf-bare. If we are not prepared for the deadly sickness, then our Clan will be in grave danger."

     Worried murmurs rose from the gathered cats, whispering to each other in the shadows of camp. Others scoffed in disbelief. Flowerstar continued boldly, her voice drowning out the conversation. "But because of this raid we have prevented such a tragedy. Our supply of catmint is growing, and after we ambush RiverClan, we will have so many herbs that the other Clans will be begging for healing at our paws!"

     Snickers of approval rose steadily from the gathered cats. Leopardkit sat hunched miserably at Wolfsong's massive paws. She yearned to get away from the menacing white tom, but the only way out was into the paws of another vicious ShadowClan cat.

     "And what about the kit?" a reddish-brown tom cried incredulously. Leopardkit froze, icy fear flooding her. Her insides squirmed as all pairs of eyes turned toward her.

Flowerstar gazed down from the branch with narrowed eyes. "That's a good question, indeed, Waspwing," she remarked thoughtfully. Then, more quietly, "What in StarClan's name will we do with you..."

Leopardkit closed her eyes, sending a silent prayer up to StarClan. She hoped desperately that Darkstar would appear through the camp's entrance to rescue her. She longed to her his battle cry from deep in the woods, ready to attack. And yet, the evergreen forest was dreadfully peaceful, only the lonesome hoot of an owl far in the distance.

"Let's teach her a lesson," a small blue she-cat growled, claws sliding out as she stared at Leopardkit. The she-kit shrunk closer to Wolfsong, as much as it disgusted her to do so.

     "Yeah!" Waspwing cried, voice indignant. The skinny red-brown tom lashed his tail. "Let's show those ThunderClan foxhearts what happens when you mess with us!"

     Flowerstar cut the russet tom off with a snarl. "I think you're forgetting, Waspwing, that we attacked ThunderClan first," she growled through gritted teeth. "Harming the kit in any way is out of the question!"

      Leopardkit let out a shaky breath of relief, but the pit in her stomach remained.

     "We should hold her for ransom!" someone cried out.

     Flowerstar's lip curled in disapproval. "We have already taken everything we need from ThunderClan," she stated firmly.

     Ratwhisker's eyes suddenly lit up. "We can hold her for ransom with RiverClan! Then we won't have to attack!" he blurted out. The sand-colored tom lifted his chin as if he was proud of his quick thinking and genius idea.

      Flowerstar sighed in exasperation. "Why in StarClan's name would RiverClan care about a kit from a rival Clan, frog-brain?" she spat.

     Ratwhisker's head tilted in confusion. He seemed to be thinking it over very slowly.

      Flowerstar's patience had grown thin. "We will keep the kit," she suddenly announced, to the shocked gasps of her warriors. Ignoring the consternation, she continued. "We will raise her as one of our own. We are short of warriors anyway, and she will only help grow our ranks. Fogtail, you will care for her until she is ready to be apprenticed. This meeting is dismissed." As easily as that, the silver she-cat jumped down from her perch and padded into her den, the fur along her spine still bristling.

      The pale ginger tom who sat at the roots of the tree suddenly stepped forward, leaving a dark pool behind him. "Those who are least injured, step forward!" he boomed. "We need a patrol to secure the border..."

     As the deputy's voice drifted off, Leopardkit stole a glance up at Wolfsong. The ragged white tom was staring down at her, making her heart skip a beat.

    "You're lucky," he rumbled with a slight sneer. "You're going to be cared for by the most gentle queen in our Clan. And if you want to keep it that way, you'll keep your jaws shut."

    He's talking about Firetail. Leopardkit felt dizzy with fear, so she didn't resist when Wolfsong's jaws clamped down on her scruff again. Dangling helplessly in the air, she could feel the hostile gazes of the ShadowClan warriors on her as he carried her. Her whole body felt hollow.

     A narrow mouth opened up in the wall of brambles, revealing a shadowy hole. A black she-cat sat outside it, her white tail wrapped delicately around her paws. Her expression was surprisingly soft. "Put her down," she murmured.

Wolfsong hesitated, as if wondering whether the quiet queen was worth listening to. He slowly set the limp she-kit on the ground.

"I'm Fogtail," the queen introduced herself with a twitch of her whiskers, her gray gaze sympathetic. "Your name?"

The she-kit opened her jaws, but her throat ached as she tried to meow. After a moment, she managed in a squeaky voice, "Leopardkit."

"That's a very strong name for a strong little she-kit," the black she-cat murmured softly. Leopardkit didn't respond. Her mouth was dry.

"Come on in," Fogtail offered gently with a wave of her tail. She gave a small nod to Wolfsong, who silently drifted away at the signal.

Leopardkit felt a chill crawl up her spine as the massive white tom moved, leaving a cold breeze in his wake. Fogtail stood at the entrance to the nursery, waiting for her expectantly.

Glancing back to the camp entrance and seeing no sign of Darkstar, Leopardkit hung her head and grudgingly followed Fogtail inside. A comforting scent of fresh moss and ferns wafted from the queen. The she-kit relaxed a bit as it washed over, her russet fur finally lying flat.

Leopardkit blinked as she stepped into the darkness, her tail-tip twitching in apprehension. There were two nests made in the nursery: one had two small kits in it, their headings turning quickly at Fogtail's entrance, and in the other sat a beautiful dark gray tabby queen, who narrowed her eyes.

     The two kits suddenly erupted from Fogtail's nest, bounding toward their mother with wide eyes and erect tails. One was black and the other was pale gray.

     "What happened? Did we win?"

     "I bet we shredded those ThunderClan rogues!"

     "Did they go crying back to their dens?"

     Fogtail purred in laughter at the two tom-kits that bounced at her paws. "Hush now, and back to the nest. We have someone new, so be polite. Especially you, Lightningkit," she said pointedly to the gray tom.

"What!" the gray tom-kit cried out incredulously. "I never misbeha—"

The tom-kits suddenly noticed Leopardkit, who hesitated at the den's entrance, and their curious eyes grew even wider. "Who is she!" the gray one squeaked excitedly. On the other hand, his black littermate only sniffed the air cautiously.

"She's your new sister," Fogtail explained gently, herding her rowdy sons back to her nest with her white tail. "She came from ThunderClan, but she'll be staying with us now."

The queen's calm words served as a harsh blow of reality for Leopardkit. She stifled the mournful wail rising in her throat. Although Fogtail seemed kind, all these ShadowClan cats were complete strangers to her. And now, they expected her to willingly stay with them? What she would give right now to see Darkstar, Firetail, Redpaw, Mousekit, or even her fox-hearted mother!

Fogtail curled up in her nest, her sons peeking over the edge at Leopardkit, gazes bright with curiosity. The queen waved her tail, gesturing for the she-kit to join them. Leopardkit didn't move from the entrance of the den, her amber eyes wary.

Fogtail sighed. "I suppose you can sleep with us when you're comfortable. This all must be a shock for a kit as young as you. Speaking of which, how many moons are you?"

Leopardkit managed to speak past the lump in her dry throat. "Five," she croaked.

"Mouse-dung!" the other queen suddenly cut in from the other side of the den, her eyes narrowed skeptically. "She looks to be three or four moons at most! Liar, just like all those ThunderClan cats..."

Leopardkit felt a small spark of anger at the queen's words. However, it didn't last. The heaviness of her despair quickly outweighed it. The spotted she-kit sat with her head hung, her tail curled tightly around her small paws.

     Fogtail's ears flicked back in disapproval as she stared at the other queen. "There's no need to be harsh, Roseheart. She's only a frightened kit."

     The dark gray she-cat scowled before shifting in her nest, shielding her own sleeping bundles of fur from view. "Just don't let that dirty ThunderClan kit near me," Roseheart growled disdainfully.

     Leopardkit only hunkered down further at the queen's harsh words. Stabbing memories of Sandstreak flashed in her head.

She could feel Fogtail's caring gaze resting on her. "Duskkit, take some of your bedding over to her," the queen said in a low voice to the black kit in her nest. "If she wants to sleep alone tonight, she will do so."

Leopardkit's ears twitched as she listened to the Duskkit mew in frightened protest, shooting her a nervous glance. After a hushed rebuke from Fogtail, the tom-kit began gathering loose bedding.

Leopardkit glanced up cautiously as a small black tom approached her, dragging a wad of torn moss from his jaws. He appeared to be about three moons old. His dark pelt reminded her faintly of Mousekit, but the rest of him was utterly different: a stocky body, thicker legs, and a soft, rounded face.

Duskkit carefully dropped the bedding at Leopardkit's paws. His bronze eyes were curious and a little fearful, but there was also an unexpected softness to them, similar to his mother's. "We won't hurt you, I promise," he whispered when she stepped back.

Leopardkit tilted her head in wonder as the black kit turned and quickly padded back to his nest. Her mind was swimming with confusion. Why was he treating her so kindly?

The other tom-kit, Lightningkit, battered his brother with questions as soon as he returned to the nest, and Fogtail hushed them both as she curled her body around them.

     Uneasily, Leopardkit tore her stare away from the little family and examined the scrap of bedding Duskkit had brought her. She used her small paws to firmly press the wad into a comfortable, kit-sized nest. The she-kit circled it a couple times before settling down and curling up, laying her thin tail over her nose. But her amber eyes remained open, and they drifted to Fogtail's nest.

     Two pairs of gleaming eyes watched her, ducking down as she caught sight of them. Muffled giggling reached her ears, silenced by a sharp whisper from Fogtail.

     Leopardkit's fur prickled in annoyance, but at the same time a strange sense of relief lingered in her. Lightningkit and Duskkit were young and innocent. Clearly, they meant no harm to her. They were just curious and annoying, as young kits were. The she-kit was grateful that they were nothing like her cruel brothers, Weedkit and Longkit.

Her train of thought drifted to Sandstreak, and with a jolt Leopardkit suddenly remembered the shocking secrets Goldentail had told her early in the day. Could all this have truly happened in one day?

Bluesky, Darkstar, Sandstreak, and Sharpwing. What had happened between those four cats? What changed? Why are Leopardkit and Mousekit hated, but their stronger brothers praised? Far too many questions for her tired mind.

She expected to finally feel free when she figured out why Sandstreak was so cruel to her. But for now, all she was left with was a gaping hole in her chest and even more confusion.

    With a storm of thoughts clashing in her distraught head, Leopardkit fell into a deep, uneasy slumber.