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Midnight was a most mysterious span of time. The whole valley was dreaming. There were no sounds or movements except for the occasional hoot of an owl of the rustle of a momentary zephyr on the deep foliage, or even the rushing of a swift-running stream.

A biting chill hung in the air, yet also a faint warmth like the hidden sun was reaching out into the sky still yet.

Pale moonlight spiraled into a quiet forest glen. Only the stream's tinkling disrupted the peace. "S-StarClan spoke to me. Evil - evil spirits." The quavering whisper sliced into the hushed night like the crack of thunder.

A sharp-muzzled, dark brown oriental tomcat slid out of a nearby holly bush. The hushed mew had evidently been uttered from him. His ears were flattened to his head and he squinted into the darkness though he had a natural night vision. His irises were dilated - whether with fear, lack of vision, or both. He was well-muscled and emanated an air of health, but his breathing was shaky and uneven.

A robin with an orange spot on it's chest chirped reproachfully down at the tomcat from its perch, it's feathers ruffled and it's eyes sharp with irritation from being awoken from it's slumber. The tomcat didn't seem to notice.

There was another faint rustle as a second feline shape emerged from the bushes. "StarClan? Are you sure? I thought it was a wildcat myth." It was a she-cat this time. Her form was slender and the scent that tinged the air when she came was a sweet scent like pollen.

"Don't be silly, Softie," the first cat growled, a noble kind of pride half-replacing his nervousness. He glanced up into the sky and stared at the blinking stars. "I've seen them with my very eyes. I've walked on their land. I've seen the stars in their fur. It was not a normal dream. It was pulling me here. A tug in my heart and paws. I have never felt such a pronounced feeling."

The she-cat, her pelt a soft cream and her sharp eyes brown, stared at him. "Say that I believe you. Then what did these starry cats say, Hound?" Her tone was pointed.

Hound tore his gaze away from the sky and looked at her sharply. "They said there were dangerous spirits. Spirits that could only come out on the full moon when it was foggy or smoky. The StarClan cat that told me - I believe his name was Peregrinestar - he said there was a battle between demons and living cats that took place in this very valley. He said many evil and dangerous creatures were released during this battle. These were only some of them that got away.

He explained I could get nine lives and get 'star' to the end of my name to signify me a leader, make a Clan . . . and control the spirits. He told me all about the Clan ceremonies and customs. I know more than the murderous rumours of the Clans could ever inform me.

I will become Houndstar in one night, you will be my second-in-command, and we will find ourselves warriors. Will you take a warrior name?" Hound broke off and his eyes landed intently on her face. Slowly, she nodded, her expression closed and blank. "You will take the name Softmint, if you'd like to be my deputy."

Soft's eyes became just a touch brighter, though her expression was still hard to read. She tilted her head to the side as gust of wind swept leaves across the ground. She didn't flinch. "I accept," she murmured to Hound.

His eyes softened. "Then you will forever be known as Softmint. We will work together to rise a Clan from the ashes of these Clans." He flicked his ears toward the deeper forest and valley. "I have decided on a name for this Clan." He paused while Softmint waited with bated breath. "It shall be called SmokeClan. For the smoke origin of the spirits we are supposed to contain. . . ."

Softmint's eyes gleamed and her claws poked out from beneath the fur on her paws. "Or use. . . ."