A/N: This is a somewhat serious attempt at a full-length Warriors novel with a completely original cast. Feedback is appreciated, and thank you for reading.

Prologue

The air was crisp and cold. The earth was still. Around the frozen lake the trees were bare, but in ShadowClan territory the pine trees stood proudly in shades of dark green patterned with the white snow.

In a small valley in between the pine trees, ShadowClan stirred restlessly. It had been a hard and unusually long leaf-bare. The worst of the snow was over, but the entire Clan was exhausted by lack of fresh-kill and a particularly nasty spread of greencough that had weakened the hardiest warriors and killed the youngest apprentices. The once-proud ShadowClan had fallen on hard times.

At the mouth of the bramble tunnel that led into the heart of the camp, two warriors sat guard. The first was a small black she-cat, her dark pelt strikingly visible in the thin layer of snow. Her companion, a stocky dark brown tabby, was visibly nervous, shuffling his paws and twitching his ears. He stood up and began to pace anxiously, lashing his tail in frustration.

"One would think, Thornpelt," said the she-cat, her voice laced with amusement, "that you were the one having kits, not Hollytail."

Thornpelt stopped pacing and stared incredulously at his friend. "She's my only sister now, Duskfur! Of course I'm worried." He began to pace again. "I'm not just worried, I'm scared to death. Leaf-bare is a bad time to have kits, with all the greencough going around. It was on a leaf-bare like this that Brightsky died..." he trailed off.

Duskfur laid her tail on his flank. "I know you still grieve for your other sister," she meowed gently. "It was a hard birth. She gave everything she had to bring two strong kits into the world, and Whitepaw and Mosspaw will make fine warriors. But Hollytail has always been a strong cat. She'll make it. And Dawnwing is the best medicine cat in all of the Clans."

Thornpelt opened his mouth, then stiffened as his sharp ears caught a shriek of pain. Duskfur nudged him towards the tunnel.

"Oh, go and see how she's doing then," she said. "I could talk your ears off and you'd still be worried. I'll stand guard for the both of us—not even ThunderClan would be mouse-brained enough to attack in this weather."

Thornpelt blinked gratefully at his friend and ducked through the brambles to emerge into the camp. He bounded towards the sandy hollow that was the medicine cat's den, but was stopped by Dawnwing's apprentice, Mousepaw.

"You can't come in," the small brown tom said, whiskers twitching. "Dawnwing specifically sent me out here to make sure that you wouldn't come blundering in and scaring Hollytail."

"I'm her brother," Thornpelt protested. He considered pushing Mousepaw aside, but he hesitated at the thought of shoving a medicine cat.

"I'm a medicine cat," Mousepaw retorted. "Or I will be. It's nearly over, anyways. You'll be able to moon over your new kin soon."

There was a low moan of pain. Thornpelt stiffened, and Mousepaw glanced back into the den. But after the moan came a weak purring, and Dawnwing emerged from the depths of her den, eyes shining.

"He'll be able to moon over his new kin now," she said. "Two toms and two she-cats, all healthy."

"Four kits?" Thornpelt said, swaying slightly. "Oh—" he stumbled into the darkness of Dawnwing's den.

Inside the hollow, the ground was lined with soft leaves and pine needles In a nest at the end lay Hollytail, exhausted but happy. At her side suckled four kits.

"Four kits?" Thornpelt said again in disbelief.

"It's good to see you can still count, mouse-brain," said Hollytail with a soft mrroww of laughter. "Yes, four. There'll be plenty of kits for you to play with until you stop tiptoeing around Duskfur."

Thornpelt ducked his head and rasped his tongue over his sister's ear. "I'm going to ignore that last remark and say that I'm very proud of you."

Hollytail purred. "I've already thought of names," she said. "The light brown tom is Owlkit. The tortoiseshell she-cat is Lilykit. The black tom is Beechkit." Her eyes took on a faraway look. "And the gray she-cat is Brightkit."

"For our sister in StarClan," Thornpelt murmured. "Owlkit, Lilykit, Beechkit, and Brightkit. Welcome to ShadowClan."

There was a scrape and the sound of rolling sand as Dawnwing reentered the den. "Thornpelt, your sister had a wonderful litter, but now she needs water. Fetch some for her, will you?"

Thornpelt hissed in annoyance. "Can't Mousepaw—?" But he stopped, startled by something in Dawnwing's gaze. He ducked his head. "Alright," he mumbled and backed out.

Was something wrong? Maybe Duskfur was right and he had been worrying too much. But Brightsky had also insisted that nothing was wrong. And Brightsky was dead. He carefully slunk back to the entrance of the tunnel and stood, ears pricked, to listen to the hushed conversation.

"—don't know what you're going on about, Dawnwing," Hollytail said. "Brindlespots is the father. The whole Clan knows."

"The whole Clan might believe," Dawnwing meowed gently, and Thornpelt was surprised by the pitying tone in her voice. "But medicine cats know. Brindlespots is a tortoiseshell tom. Tortoiseshell toms can't have kits. He's not the father."

Silence. Shocked, Thornpelt dimly registered his sister's low sigh. "I thought you might figure it out," she said softly. "No, he's not."

"Who—" Dawnwing began, but she was cut off by Hollytail's fierce hiss.

"No. I will not say. It is my right."

"I—"

"It is my right."

"As you wish," Dawnwing whispered. There was a rustling sound, and Thornpelt belatedly realized she was preparing to leave the den. He bolted through the tunnel and away from the camp.

"Whose pelt is on fire?" Duskfur called after him.

"I'm getting water for Hollytail!" he yowled back. But his mind was not on his task.

Brindlespots is not the kits' father. Hollytail doesn't want to reveal who the real father is. But why would she lie in the first place? A queen has the right to keep that secret. Why lie? Why plant a false trail?

What is going on?

Inside the camp, Brindlespots entered the den and purred over the kits that were not his. Dawnwing watched silently, eyes troubled. Hollytail, exhausted from a long kitting, lay back and watched four kits squirm at her side.

In the sky, gray clouds parted to reveal the pale yellow sun. Newleaf was almost here.