Hey guys, I'm rewriting this book, it was my first attempt at this story, and I really want it to convey what I have been thinking up storywise. Hope you enjoy!

From birth to death, my life was filled. Filled with decisions, easy and hard. Filled with cats who loved me, and those who wished for my death. Filled with adventures and adversity. But my experiences were only the start. The start of something big. Too big for this clan, for this island, for any cat alone.

Good thing I wasn't alone.

I remember waking up for the first time, next to my mother, Silkyrunner.

I remember the soft fluff of my two sisters, Sunkit and Palekit.

I remember my first snow, so frosty, so crisp.

I remember my first friend, Larkkit, the little kit so kind.

I remember my first rival, Briarkit, the shecat with the world in her paws.

I remember my apprentice ceremony, the pride in my father's eyes.

I remember my first catch, a little crab by the shore.

I remember my first fight, hurling Pumapaw against the beech tree.

I remember the day I lost my family, a wound that would never heal.

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One morning, my parents and my sister, Sunpaw, were helping my youngest sibling, Palepaw. Palepaw had been in an accident and had broken her legs, so our clan had been tentatively doting on her.

I was outside with my denmate, Larkpaw, gathering moss and lambs ear for our den. A few fellow apprentices, Briarpaw and Pumapaw, were outside sunning in the warm patch of rock next to us. Larkpaw and I didn't have much to do with Briarpaw and Pumapaw, as they were often harsh with their words, and would probably kick you off a cliff.

Over by the trees, Littlepike was teaching Yarrowpaw and Russetpaw how to climb, but they weren't getting it. Not far off, Shellshard and Stonepaw were snickering, watching Shellshard's daughter, Yarrowpaw. Stonepaw was Oldstar' only son, and only remaining relative.

Oldstar had a hard time when he was our age, he was born with his face already speckled with silver, and his father was a hardened old tom, so he named him Oldkit. But Oldstar never let it bring him too down, and everything changed for the better when he fell for Stonepaw's mother, Minnowshimmer. She passed just after Stonepaw was born, and never got to see him.

Oldstar was showing his age, and often made terrible decisions, but my father, Birchleaf, was the deputy, and often persuaded Oldstar otherwise. I was so proud that my father would be leader one day, and maybe one day I would follow in his footsteps.

Whenever I would talk about following my father's path, Pumapaw would scoff. He says that his dad should've been deputy, and that my dad was too soft. The first time he said that, I threw him against a tree. I got den-cleaning duty, and that's were I was today.

I remember the faint screams, rising over the forest trees. It was an unforgettable kind of sound. For a few minutes, no one took notice, till it got louder, mixed with the thrumming of paws. Littlepike was the first to act, he violently nudged the two apprentices he was teaching back to camp.

Shellshard snatched Yarrowpaw by the scruff and motioned Stonepaw to follow him. I tried to race after them, but Pumapaw and Briarpaw knocked me over, sending me flying into the bracken wall. The more I twisted and wriggled, the more enveloped in the brush I became.

I cried out, and Larkpaw came to my rescue, tugging and pulling. By the time I was freed, the noise was right up on us. We turned to see the other clan that lived across the island, Sandclan. They were scared, a wild look was in everyone's eye.

Their bodies were plastered with cuts and gashes, some cats were carried, some where dragged. Their breath grew ragged and heavy, and they looked as if they couldn't even summon enough to speak. Lionstar, their leader, nudged her way through the panting crowd towards us.

Oldstar toddled over to meet her halfway, favoring every aching paw. Lionstar's face was mangled, a slice over her eyes left her almost blinded. In a hushed tone, she spoke to Oldstar, before she collapsed on the stone floor of our camp clearing inside of a cave.

Oldstar turned back to the clan, shaking. "The Village has come to battle. They are enraged by Sandclan's deceit."

Lionstar opened her mouth to argue, but only a wheeze came out. The clan exchanged looks of shock and murmurs of fear.

The Village was a huge group of rogues who lived on the other side of the island, in the abandoned twoleg houses, led by a rogue named Flash. Flash was well known, but his daughter was more so, mostly by toms, if you catch my drift (wink wink).

Flash's daughter, Autumn, is a beautiful long haired brown tabby with the brightest amber eyes, and is found with a new tom every moon. That's how they turn warriors into rogues. She convinces them that they're in love, and that they should come live with her. They don't seem to mind her open relationships, though.

It worked for a few moons, usually on weaker warriors, until she tried it out on some other warrior I've never met. The rumor is, he was spying for Sandclan, and Flash found out.

"That shouldn't be Pebbleclan's problem!" Littlepike called out. An uproar started in the clan, but it was too late. The Village was upon us. They poured into camp, yowling and hissing with rage.

Flash stood in the frontline, unscathed and standing with a certain kind of ego. "Pebbleclan must be moronic mousebrains to think that they could protect Sandclan from the Village, unless... HA! Sandclan must've dragged you into this! Poor things!" Flash sneered, spittle flying from his scarred lips.

Oldstar gathered himself up, and tried his best to loom over the gargantuan tom. "No one makes Pebbleclan do something they don't want to do."

Flash just cackled like an ill crow. "Then I suppose you consent to this battle, huh. Huge mistake, you old piece of dust." He spat.