Whitekit looked up at her mother a soft-furred, orange, she-cat with a white tipped  tail."Sandfire play with me!"Sandfire looked down at her, blue eyes filled with sorrow"No not now Whitekit. But you can go outside and play."Whitekit's tail dropped as she went outside, her parents never wanted to play with her, not since her sister Swankit died. Not even her father Treestar wanted to play with her.

Whitekit looked up at her father a huge dark brown tabby with a white chest."Hey, Whitkit do you wanna play?"Came the call of a huge black apprentice  Shadepaw. Whitekit padded over to the tom and said: "Ok since you are the only one who wants to play with me."Blackpaw looked at her and said "That's not true I am sure your father wants to play with you.''"Oh no, he and my mother only care about my dead sister Swankit."Blackpaw gave a small smile then they played with a ball of moss.

"Shadepaw its time to clean the elders for ticks!"Came the call of Blackpaws mentor Birchfoot. Shadepaw looked at his mentor and said to Whitekit"Well I got to go."Then he padded away. Whitekit looked around for someone to play with, her gaze rested on her father and she ran over to him her black tipped tail high in the air."Play with me"Whitekit squeaked and pounced on his tail.

Treestar looked at his kit and swished his tail out of harm's way and said sternly"Go back to the nursery with your mother."Whitekit looked up at him sadly and padded into the nursery her ears dropping. Sandfire was laying outside and said, "You should not be bothering your father."Whitekit gazed sadly at her then curled up in the nest. 

Whitekit looked out at the clan her fur groomed neatly and her blue eyes smiling. Today she would become an apprentice."Let all cats old enough  to run in the mist gather!"Came the call of Treestar, his tabby pelt glowing in the morning sun. Whitekit padded over to sit with Sandfire, but her mother moved away and Whitekit sadly moved to sit with Shadepaw.

"Whitekit comes forward."Whitekit looked up at her father and padded over to the great rock."You are 6 moons of age. From this moment on till you become a warrior your name will be Whitepaw your mentor will be Dasyfoot."Whitepaw turned to the cream she-cat and touched noses then looked up at her father and her mother who had moved to his side, searching for pride in their gaze but only saw sadness. Dasyfoot led Whitepaw out and into the forest but Whitepaw could only think about the disappointment in her mother's eyes.