Chapter One
It was such a rare occurrence to be seen around the moors of Shadowclan. One would ask: what was this rare occurrence? Answer: the blood moon that hovered every inch of the landscape that stretched in all four corners that surrounded the lake territories. Not a single creature had seen the blood moon in their moons. Not since the times of their ancestors, that's for sure. Bathing the world in its blood red hue, the moon looked like the angry pupil of a massive cat staring down upon the land in fury, as though something had pissed it off. To others it was a spectacle to be terrified of, but to a certain ginger, it was awe inspiring.
Only twelve moons old and one of the few cats to have made it to apprentice hood, Bloodpaw silently stared up towards the night sky with a look of perplexity on his face. Irises thinned a little as though he was in a trance, the young apprentice sat upon the High Rock of Shadowclan out on the moors with the tip of his tail lightly brushing against his hind paws. Like the moon that bore down upon him and the rest of Shadowclan, Bloodpaw's fur was a deep red with a single broad black stripe running down vertically; starting from the tip of his nose and ending in a small ring just beneath his tail's tip.
That wasn't the only reason why he was called such a name. Many moons ago, he'd been found squashed between the corpses of his parents, his fur soaked through with their wet blood. No one knew who or what had killed them, or why, but Bloodpaw had been out on the borders for at least a quarter moon. Or so Smokestar had told him when he was old enough to know. He'd been scrawny and on the brink of death himself, until Shadowclan took him in as their own and nursed him back to health. Raised by Dewhare, the medicine cat of Shadowclan under the pretense that she was no longer a medicine cat but a warrior, the remaining clans kept their noses out of Shadowclan business.
Every night since then, Bloodpaw had been wondering just who his parents were and why he was alive and not them. It was a conversation he always asked himself when he was alone. Speaking with Dewhare or Smokestar always got him the same answer: Starclan had watched over him and was watching over him. Exhaling a bit as his head lowered at the thought, the young apprentice had refused to bring up the question ever since then.
A slight wind started to brew through the moors, bringing with it a harsh chill that made him shiver a bit. Getting no sleep was such a pain in the tail for him. 'Wake up already, Bloodpaw.' He thought to himself before bringing his left paw up to his face and biting it hard enough for him to cause blood to start trickling across his fur. The pain itself had the desired effect, as the young ginger short-hair suddenly awoke in the apprentice den of Shadowclan with a soft yet harsh yelp. All around him, most of the other apprentices lightly stirred in their sleep. Apparently, dreaming of their own dreams. Sighing to himself as he gazed around at them all, Bloodpaw unwound himself from the ball he found himself waking up to.
"That dream again?" He muttered beneath his breath as he softly licked his right paw before using it to wipe down his face gingerly. "Always the same red moon with the same ending. What in Starclan does it all mean?" Bloodpaw wondered to himself as he began stretching while yawning silently. Arching his back, the young apprentice of Shadowclan heard soft humming coming from an opaque cream colored she-cat whose ears were the color of chocolate. Bloodpaw couldn't help but smile a bit at the sight of Creampaw lightly twitching in her spot just a few rabbit paces away from him. How long had he known her? Two moons? More?
Closer than he was to most cats of Shadowclan, Bloodpaw dreamed of being her mate. Sadly, her heart was already taken by Sagepaw. Darting his eyes towards the oceanic blue pelt tom that always chooses to sleep against the far wall, Bloodpaw wondered what she saw in him. Blunt, harsh towards new apprentices, arrogant because he was the apprentice of Dreamshrew; it just made his blood boil with quiet and controlled rage. However, he couldn't change the heart of Creampaw and open her eyes to the truth around her. Ears twitching a bit as he continued to stare at the she-cat tortoiseshell, Bloodpaw started to curl up in a light ball again.
Thoughts of his dream's meaning started to bubble up to the surface again. Fortunately, sleep started to win the tide of battle of the ginger. Soon, he found his eyes closing in on themselves before Bloodpaw was overtaken by exhaustion fully. Thankfully, his dream never came to him again, leaving the young apprentice to peacefully slumber onwards through the night.