Dark clouds passed over a camp. A cat was sitting on guard outside of the dens.

I can't believe a cat was killed by a cloud of mist. That's ridiculous! What did I get myself into when I came here?

The tom had kittypet blood, yet his Clan had accepted him as a warrior. What allowed the wild cats to cordially invite him into the camp? Did they need more warriors?

A crunching sound awakened his senses. He moved his ears towards the sound. It was coming from the camp entrance. The tom cautiously trudged through the snow on the ground, edging towards the noise.

The sound faltered. Don't think you won't be found, intruder, the warrior grumbled in his head. He hissed quietly when he picked up the scent of MoonClan.

Something about the scent made him recoil. StormClan scent mixed with MoonClan? Something isn't right here. The tom crouched, ready to leap at any moment if the cat came into his sight.

A ginger she-cat bounded through the camp entrance, her amber eyes burning with anger. When she glared at the tom, her anger faltered.

"Coldspirit, is anyone else awake?" the ginger cat murmured.

Coldspirit wasn't sure if he should answer back, but after observing her eyes and recognizing the mixed tang of MoonClan and StormClan, he replied, "No, I've been guarding since moonrise. Why are you here with the odor of two Clans?"

To this, the she-cat's eyes flared up again. "Bluepelt is dead and MoonClan is to blame."

The black-and-white warrior was taken aback by this information. MoonClan killed a StormClan warrior?