Hey, this is SpiritOfWolfWaters (talk) 00:32, June 20, 2013 (UTC), I just wanted to make a sidestory for a sidestory, for Laststar's Story, Laststar's story is a sidestory for Silver, Dawn, and Sunset- Changing Times.  You don't need to read them to get this.  Please comment with constructive criticism! 

This is dedicated to Red, for knocking sense into me when I didn't have any.  Like a pigeon.  Pigeons. 

Allegiances (Main cats)

Nova- black she-cat with white paws, blue eyes, and white tail stripes. She is jumpy, overprotective, and beautiful. Kits: Ashwind, Sleekfur, and Redwing.

Redwing- black tom with crimson classic tabby stripes, eye stripes, and wings. He is handsome, shy, and gentle-great with kits.

Moonpelt- bright gray she-cat with green eyes and a whole bunch of sass. She is quick-minded, sly, and dark-tempered.

Chapter One- Introduction

Redwing forced his eyelids to open. His Clan was already bustling around him, storing prey underground for winter, sorting herbs, bring back prey, and other who-knows-what stuff. Moonpelt was across the clearing, waving her tail to him in a beckoning gesture. 

Redwing flashed a smile at her, picked two mice from the fresh-kill pile, and padded over with the two mice's tail grasped in his jaws. 

"Here, I just thought that you'd be hungry." 

Moonpelt purred thankfully.  "Yes, I just got back from dawn patrol." 

Redwing was surprised.  "I was asleep that long?"  Moonpelt nodded in reply. 

"Hey, do you want to maybe go hunting with me later?"  Moonpelt meowed shyly. 

"Oh, sure!  That would be nice!"  Redwing replied and placed the mouse at Moonpelt's paws.  He settled down next to her and began consuming the plump new-leaf mouse.  Moonpelt finished her mouse in a few delicate bites and stood up.

"I'm heading to the den, I have to rest before we go hunting."  Moonpelt padded away with her tail flowing like a banner behind her.  Redwing fluttered his wings nervously.  He wanted to impress Moonpelt without making a fool of himself.  Redwing's father, Troutswim, who was a black tom with golden eyes, was sitting across the clearing with the Clan leader, Froststar, eating a sparrow. 

Troutswim glanced over understandingly and his mouth curled into a half-smile.  Redwing ruffled his wings, then unfurled them and began picking through the delicate red feathers.  Nobody in his family knew where his wings came from in the family tree.  But none cared.  His wings were shaped with sleek crimson feathers that allowed him to gracefully glide through the air like an owl and catch prey without it even suspecting. 

The other Clans envied his wings, which hadn't ever caused a war, but the ShadowClan leader, Briarstar, glared at him every time he caught even the slightest glimpse of him.  And, to add on to that, Redwing's father wished that he was never born!  Troutswim had told him that he was an embarasment to the family and thought that he was better than everycat just because of his frilly little wings. 

It hurt Redwing.  Bad.  Every time his father sent him a sly sneer, or a disguised lick on the shoulder that was actaully him planting a thorn in his fur, it built up more and more hatred for his cruel father.  He often had thoughts about puting maggots in his nest or making his father eat a worm in his fresh-kill but he had two reasons not to: One, Redwing didn't want to sink down to the same evil level as his father. Two, his father was the Clan leader's best friend. His mother, Nova was a rogue, who only visited on the full moons, which made Redwing worry about her in the time between. Redwing stopped grooming his wings to quickly finish his mouse. He swimed his tongue around his lips and began grooming his fur in long, drawn out strokes. A  flicker of black appeared in the edge of Redwing's vision, making him purr.

The sweet scent of honeysuckle washed over him. "Nova!" he meowed. But, when he glanced over, there was no trace of the sleek black she-cat anywhere! He frowned. He could have sworn- a sudden shove inturupted his thoughts, and knocking him into the dust. 

"Nov-a!"  he whined but burst out laughing as his mother showered him with licks all over his face. 

"I missed you!  I missed you!  I missed yoooouuu!"  she meowed loudly.  Redwing shoved her off gently and looked around to see the whole of his Clan was staring at him.  He blushed. 

"Mo-om, your embarassing me..."  he whined through his teeth. 

"Well sor-ry,"  Nova replied sarcastically.  "Where's my little Ashy and Sleekie?" 

"Nova, our names are Ashwind and Sleekfur. Not "Ashy" and "Sleekie".  We're not kits."  Redwing's face was stern but friendly and polite.

"I know that your not kits anymore, but you'll always be my little Wiggie."  Nova reached out a paw and straightened Redwing's wings that were folded neatly behind his back, a few feathers rumpled slightly. 

"You are the biggest perfectionist that I have ever knows, mom."  Redwing stood and padded a few steps, before turning his head back to look at his peaceful mother.  "I'm going hunting later with Moonpelt.  See ya."

"Okay, send Ashy and Sleekie to me if you see them."  Nova stood and padded over to Troutswim to be greeted with delighted purrs and twining of tails.  He should be nice to me.  After all, I am his son.  Redwing thought bitterly and stalked into the warriors' den. 

Moonpelt was curled up in her nest of feathers and soft rabbit fur with little speckles of mid-day sun dotting her bright sparkling fur, making it glimmer. Ashwing was speaking quietly to the deputy, Darktail, shooting glances at Moonpelt's sleeping form from the corner of the den. He turned his head to Redwing when he entered the den.

"Hey, Ashy. Nova is over by Troutswim and she wants to see you." Redwing flicked his tail and padded to his nest with a grin on his face.  Ashwind shot him a withering glare but was obedient and padded out of the den.  Darktail snorted and padded away after him.  Redwing parted his jaws in a huge yawn and settled down in his nest next to Moonpelt's.   

He closed his eyes but he couldn't get to sleep.  He twisted and turned in his nest until finally, he pushed himself into a sitting position and groomed his pelt. 

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