Hello, welcome to another first chapter Friday. Our story today presented to you with graphic novel images is Warriors uh the Into the Wild. There's a whole bunch of series by this author Erin Hunter and this one I believe is the very first of all the series. Okay, so prologue. A half moon glowed on smooth granite boulders turning them silver. The silence was broken only by the ripple of water from the swift black river and the whisper of trees in the forest beyond. There was a stirring in the shadows and from all around life dark shapes crept stethily over the rocks. Unchathathed claws glinted in moonlight. Weary eyes flashed like amber. And then, as if on a silent signal, the creatures leaped at each other. And suddenly, the rocks were alive with wrestling, screeching cats. At the center of the frenzy of fur and claws, a massive dark tabby pinned a bracken colored tom to the ground and drew up his head triumphantly. "Oh, cart," the tabby growled. How dare you hunt in our territory. The sunning rocks belong to ThunderClan. After tonight, Tigerclaw, this will be just another Riverclan hunting ground. The bracken colored Tom spat back. A warning yowl came from the shore, shrill and anxious. Look out, more RiverClan warriors are coming. Tigerclaw turned to see sleek wet bodies sliding out of the water below the rocks. The drenched Riverclan warriors bounded silently up the shore and hurled themselves into battle without even stopping to shake the water from their fur. The dark tabby glared down at Oakheart. You may swim like otter, but you and your warriors do not belong in this forest. He drew back his lips and showed his teeth as the cat struggled beneath him. The desperate scream of a thunderclan sheat rose above the clamor. A wiry riverclan tom had pinned the brown warrior flat on her belly. Now he lunged toward her neck with jaws still dripping from his swim across the river. Tigerclaw heard the cry and let go of Oakart. With a mighty leap, he knocked the enemy warrior away from the sheat. "Quick, mouse fur, run," he ordered. before running before turning on the Riverclan Tom who had threatened her. Mouse fur scrambled to her paws, wincing from a deep gash on her shoulder and raced away. Behind her, Tigerclaw spat with rage as the Riverclan Tom sliced open his nose. Blood blinded him for an instant, but he lunged forward regardless and sank his teeth into the hind leg of his enemy. The Riverclan cat squealled and struggled free. Tigerclaw! The yowl came from a warrior with a tail as red as fox fur. This is useless. There are too many RiverClan warriors. No, Red Tail. ThunderClan will never be beaten. Tigerclaw yelled back, leaping to Redtail side. This is our territory. Blood was welling around his broad black muzzle, and he shook his head impatiently, scattering scarlet drops onto the rocks. "Tunderclan will honor your courage, Tigerclaw. But we cannot afford to lose any more of our warriors," Red Tale urged. Blue Star would never expect her warriors to fight against these impossible odds. We will have another chance to avenge this defeat. He met Tigerclaw's amber eyed gaze steadily. And then reared away and sprang onto a boulder at the edge of the trees. "Retreat, Thunderclan. Retreat!" he yowled. At once his warriors squirmed and struggled away from their opponents, spitting and snarling. They backed toward Redtale. For a heartbeat, the Riverclan cats looked confused. Was this battle so easily won? And then Oakheart yowled, a jubilant cry. As soon as they heard him, the Riverclan warriors raised their voices and joined their deputy and cattlewalling their victory. Redtale looked down at his warriors. With a flick of his tail, he gave the signal and the ThunderClan cats dived down the far side of the sunning rocks and disappeared into the trees. Tigerclaw followed last. He hesitated at the edge of the forest and glanced back at the bloodstained battlefield. His face was grim, his eyes furious slits, and then he leaped after his clan into the silent forest. In a deserted clearing, an old gray sheic cat sat alone, staring up at the clear night sky. All around her, in the shadows, she could hear the breathing and stirring of sleeping cats. A small tortoise shell sheat emerged from the dark corner, her paw steps quick and soundless. The gray cat dipped her head in greeting. "How is mouse fur?" she meowed. "Her wounds are deep blue star," answered tortoise shell, settling herself in the night cool grass. But she is young and strong. She will heal quickly. And the others, they will all recover too. Blue Star sighed. We are lucky not to have lost any of our warriors this time. You are a gifted medicine cat. Spotted Leaf. She tilted her head again and studied the stars. I am deeply troubled by tonight's defeat. ThunderClan has not been beaten in its own territory since I became leader, she murmured. These are difficult times for our clan. The season of New Leaf is late. There have been fewer kits. ThunderClan needs more warriors if it is to survive. But the year is only just beginning. Spotted Leaf pointed out calmly. There will be more kits when Green Leaf comes. The gray cat twitched her broad shoulders. Perhaps, but training our young to become warriors takes time. If ThunderClan is to defend its territory, it must have new warriors as soon as possible. "Are you asking StarClan for answers?" Meowed Spotted Leaf gently, following Blue Star's gaze and staring up at the swath of stars that were glittering in the dark sky. It is at times like this we need the words of ancient warriors to help us. Has StarClan spoken to you? Blue Star asked. Not for some moons, Blue Star. Suddenly, a shooting star blazed over the treetops. Spotted Leaf's tail twitched and the fur among her spine bristled. Blue Star's ears pricricked, but she remained silent as Spotted Leaf continued to gaze upward. "After a few moments, Spotted Leaf lowered her head and turned to Blue Star. "It was a message from StarClan," she murmured. A distant look came into her eyes. "Fire alone can save our clan. Fire. Blue Star echoed. But fire is feared by all the clans. How can it save us? Spotted Leaf shook her head. I do not know, she admitted. But this is the message StarClan has chosen to share with me. The ThunderClan leader fixed her clear blue eyes on the medicine cat. You have never been wrong before, Spotted Leaf. She meowed. If StarClan has spoken, then it must be so. Fire will save our clan. Chapter 1. It was very dark. Rusty could sense something was near. The young Tom Cat's eyes opened wide as he scanned the dense undergrowth. This place was unfamiliar, but strange sense drew him onward deeper into the shadows. His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger. He opened his jaws slightly to let the warm smells of the forest reached the scent glands on the roof of his mouth. Musty odors of leaf mold mingled with the tempting aroma of a small furry creature. Suddenly, a flash of gray raced past him. Rusty stopped, still listening. It was hiding in the leaves less than two tail lengths away. Rusty knew it was a mouse. He could feel the rapid pulsing of a tiny heart deep within his ear fur. He swallowed, stifling his rumbling stomach. Soon his hunger would be satisfied. Slowly he lowered his body into position, crouching for the attack. He was downwind of the mouse. He knew it was not aware of him. With one final check of his praise position, Rusty pushed back hard on his hunches and sprang, kicking up the leaves on the forest floor as he rose. The mouse dived for cover, heading toward a hole in the ground. But Rusty was already on top of it. He scooped it into the air, hooking the helpless creature with his thorn sharp claws, flinging it up in a high arc onto the leaf covered ground. The mouse landed dazed but alive. It tried to run, but Rusty snatched it up again. He tossed the mouse once more and this time a little farther away. The mouse managed to scramble a few paces before Rusty caught up with it. Suddenly, a noise roared nearby. Rusty looked around, and as he did so, the mouse was able to pull away from his claws. When Rusty turned back, he saw it dart into the darkness among the tangled roots of a tree. Angry, Rusty gave up the hunt. He spun around, his green eyes glaring, intent on searching out the noise that had cost him his kill. The sound rattled on, becoming more familiar. Rusty blinked open his eyes. The forest had disappeared. He was inside a hot and airless kitchen, curled in his bed. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows on the smooth, hard floor. The noise had been the rattle of hard, dried pellets of food as they were tipped into his dish. Rusty had been dreaming. Lifting his head, he rested his chin on the side of his bed. His collar rubbed uncomfortably around his neck. In his dream, he had felt fresh air ruffling the soft fur where the collar usually pinched. Rusty rolled onto his back, savoring the dream for a few more moments. He could still smell mouse. It was the third time since full moon that he had had the dream, and every time the mouse had escaped his grasp. He licked his lips. From his bed, he could smell the bland odor of his food. His owners had always refilled this dish before they went to bed. The dusty smell chased away the warm sense of his dream. But the hunger rumbled on in his stomach, so Rusty stretched the sleep out of his limbs and patted across the kitchen floor to his dinner. The food felt dry and tasteless on his tongue. Rustly reluctantly swallowed one more mouthful, and then he turned away from the food dish and pushed his way out through the cat flap, hoping that the smell of the garden would bring back the feeling from his dream. Outside, the moon was bright. It was raining lightly. Rusty stalked down the tidy garden, following the starllet gravel path. Feeling the stones cold and sharp beneath his paws, he made his dirt beneath a large bush with glossy green leaves and heavy purple flowers, their sickly sweet scent cloying the damp air around him, and he curled his lip to drive the smell out of his nostrils. Afterward, Rusty settled down on top of one of the posts in the fence that marked the limits of his garden. It was a favorite spot of his, as he could see right into the neighboring gardens, as well as into the dense green forest on the other side of the garden post. The rain had stopped. Behind him, the closecropped lawn was bathed in moonlight, but beyond his fence, the woods were full of shadows. Rusty stretched his head forward to take a sniff of the damp air. His skin was warm and dry under his thick coat, but he could feel the weight of raindrops that sparkled on his ginger fur. He heard his owners giving him one last call from the back door. If he went to them now, they would greet him with gentle words and caresses and welcome him onto their bed, where he would curl, purring and warm in the crook of a bent knee. But this time, Rusty ignored his owner's voices and turned his gaze back to the forest. The crisp smell of the woods had grown fresher after the rain. Suddenly, the fur on his spine prickled. Was something moving out there? Was something watching him? Rusty stared ahead, but it was impossible to see or smell anything in the dark tree scented air. He lifted his chin boldly, stood up, and stretched, one paw gripping each corner of the fence post as he straightened his legs and arched his back. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of the woods once more. It seemed to promise him something, tempting him onward into the whispering shadows. Tensing his muscles, he crouched for a moment and then he leaped lightly down into the rough grass on the other side of the garden fence. As he landed, the bell on his collar rang out to the still night air. Where you off to, Rusty? meowed a familiar voice behind him. Rusty looked up. A young black and white cat was balancing ungracefully on the fence. Hello, Smudge," Rusty replied. "You're not going into the woods, are you?" Smudge's amber eyes were huge. "Just for a look," Rusty promised, shifting uncomfortably. "You wouldn't get me in there. It's dangerous." Smudge wrinkled his black nose with distaste. Henry said he went into the woods once. The cat lifted his head and gestured with his nose over the four rows toward the garden where Henry lived. "That old Tabby never went in the woods," Rusty scoffed. "He's hardly been beyond his own garden since the trip to the vet. All he wants to do is eat and sleep." "No, really. He caught a robin there," Smudge insisted. "Well, if he did, then it was before the vet. Now he complains about birds because they disturb his dozing. Well, anyway, Smudge went on, ignoring the scorn in Rusty's meow. Henry told me there are all sorts of dangerous animals out there. Huge wild cats who eat live rabbits for breakfast and sharpen their claws on old bones. I'm only going for a look around. Rusty meowed. I won't stay long. Well, don't say I didn't warn you, heard Smudge. The black and white cat turned and plunged off the fence back down into his own garden. Rusty sat down in the coarse grass beyond the garden fence. He gave his shoulder a nervous lick and wondered how much of Smudge's gossip was true. Suddenly, the movement of a tiny creature caught his eye. He watched it scuttle under some brambles. instinct made him drop into a low crouch. With one slow paw after another, he drew his body forward through the undergrowth. Ears pricricked, nostrils flared, eyes unblinking. He moved toward the animal. He could see it clearly now, sitting up among the barbed branches, nibbling on a large seed held between its paws. It was a mouse. Rusty rocked his hunches from side to side, preparing to leap. He held his breath in case his bell rang again. Excitement coursed through him, making his heart pound. This was even better than his dreams. Then a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves made him jump. His bell jangled treacherously, and the mouse started away into the thickest tangle of the bramble bush. Rusty stood very still and looked around. He could see the white tip of a red bushy tail trailing through a clump of tall ferns ahead. He smelled a strong strange scent. Definitely a meat eater, but neither a cat nor dog. Distracted, Rusty forgot about the mouse and watched the red tail curiously. He wanted a better look. All of Rusty's senses strained ahead as he prowled forward, and then he detected another noise. It came from behind, but the sound was muted and distant. He swiveled his eggs backward to hear it better. Pause steps, he wondered, but he kept his eyes fixed on the strange red fur up ahead and continued to creep onward. It was only when the faint rustling behind him became a loud and fast approaching leaf crackle that Rusty realized he was in danger. The creature hit him like an explosion and Rusty was thrown sideways into a clump of nettles. Twisting and yowling, he tried to throw off the attacker that had fastened itself onto his back. It was gripping him with incredibly sharp claws. Rusty could feel spiked teeth pricking at his neck. He writhed and he squirmed from under whisker to tail, but he couldn't free himself. For a second, he felt helpless and then he froze. Thinking fast, he flipped over onto his back. He knew instinctively how dangerous it was to expose his soft belly, but it was his only chance. He was lucky. The ploy seemed to work. He heard a hu behind him as the breath was knocked out of his attacker. Thrashing fiercely, Rusty managed to wiggle free. Without looking back, he sprinted toward his home. behind him. A rush of pawsteps told Rusty that his attacker was giving chase. Even through the pain of his scratches, which stung beneath his fur, Rusty decided he would rather turn and fight than let himself be jumped on again. He skidded to a stop, spun around, and he faced his pursuer. It was another kitten with a thick coat of shaggy gray fur, strong legs, and a broad face. In a heartbeat, Rusty smelled that it was a tom, and sensed the power in the sturdy shoulders underneath the soft coat. Then the kitten crashed into Rusty at full pelt. Taken by surprise by Rusty's turnabout, it fell back into a dazed heap. The impact knocked the breath out of Rusty, and he staggered. He quickly found his footing, arched his back, puffing out his orange fur, ready to spring onto the other kitten, but his attacker simply sat up and began to lick a forpaw. All signs of aggression gone. Rusty felt strangely disappointed. Every part of him was tense and ready for battle. Hi there, kitty pet," yelled the gray tom cheerily. "You put up quite a fight for a tame kitty." Rusty remained on tiptoe for a second, wondering whether to attack anyway, and then he remembered the strength that he felt in this kitten's paws when he had pinned him to the ground. He dropped onto his pads, loosening his muscles, and let his spine unbend. and I'd fight you again if I have to," he growled. "I'm Graypaw, by the way." The great kitten went on, ignoring Rusty's threat. I'm training to be a ThunderClan warrior. Rusty remained silent. He didn't understand what this gray what's it was meowing about. But he sensed the threat had passed. He hid his confusion by leaning down to lick his ruffled chest. What's a kitty pet like you doing out in the woods? Don't you know it's dangerous? asked Graypaw. If you're the most dangerous thing of the woods has to offer, then I think I can handle it. Rusty bluffed. Graypaw looked up at him for a moment, narrowing his big yellow eyes. Oh, I'm far from the most dangerous. If you were even half a warrior, I'd have given an intruder like you some real wounds to think about. Rusty felt a thrill of fear at these ominous words. "What did this cat mean by intruder?" "Anyway!" meowed Grapaw, using his sharp teeth to tug at a clump of grass from between his claws. "I didn't think it was worth hurting you. You're obviously not from one of the other clans. Other clans? Rusty echoed, confused. Graypaw let out an impatient hiss. You must have heard of the four warrior clans that hunt around here. I belong to ThunderClan. The other clans are always trying to steal prey from our territory, especially the Shadow Clan. They're so fierce. They would have ripped you to shreds, no questions asked. Graypaw paused to spit angrily and continued. They come to take prey that's rightfully ours. It's the job of the ThunderClan warriors to keep them out of our territory. When I finish my training, I'll be so dangerous. I'll have the other clans shaking in their flea bitten skins. They won't dare come near us then. Rusty narrowed his eyes. This must be one of the wild cats that Smudge had warned him about. Living rough in the woods, hunting and fighting each other for each last scrap of food. Yet Rusty didn't feel scared. In fact, it was kind of hard not to admire this confident kitten. "So, you're not a warrior yet?" he asked. "Why did you think I was?" Graypaw purrred proudly and then he shook his wide furry head. I won't be a real warrior for ages. I have to go through the training first. Kids have to be 6 months old before they even begin training. Tonight is my first night out as an apprentice. Why don't you find yourself an owner with a nice cozy house instead? Your life would be much easier. Rusty meowed. There are plenty of house folk who'd take in a kitten like you. All you have to do is sit where they can see you and look hungry for a couple of days. And they'd feed me pellets that look like rabbit droppings and soft slop. Graypaw interrupted. No way. I can't think of anything worse than being a kitty pet. They are nothing but two-legged toys eating stuff that doesn't even look like food. Making dirt in a box of gravel. Sticking their noses outside only when the two legs allow them. That's no life out here. It's wild. It's free. We come and go as we please. He finished his speech with a proud spit and then meowed mischievously. "Until you've tasted a freshkilled mouse, you haven't lived. Have you ever tasted mouse?" "No," Rusty admitted a little defensively. "Not yet." "I guess you'll never understand," Grandpa sighed. "You weren't born to be wild. It makes a big difference. You need to be born with warrior blood in your veins or the feel of the wind in your whiskers. Kitties born into two-legg nests could never feel the same way. Rusty remembered the way he had felt in his dream. That's not true, he meowed indignantly. Graypaw did not reply. He suddenly stiffened Midlick. One paw still raised and then stiffed the air. I can smell cats from my clan. He hissed. You should go. They won't be pleased to find you hunting in our territory. Rusty looked around, wondering how Graypaw knew any cat was approaching. He couldn't smell anything different on the leafsented breeze, but his fur stood on end at the note of urgency in Graypaw's voice. Quick, hissed Graypaw again. Run. Rusty prepared to spring into the bushes, not knowing which way was safe to jump. He was too late. A voice meowed behind him, firm and menacing. What's going on here? Rusty turned to see a large gray sheat strolling majestically out from the undergrowth. She was magnificent. White hairs streaked her muzzle. An ugly scar parted the fur across her shoulders, but her smooth gray coat shone like silver in the moonlight. Blue star beside Rusty Gray Paw crouched down and narrowed his eyes. He crouched even lower when a second cat, a handsome golden tabby, followed the gray cat into the clearing. "You shouldn't be so near twoleg place, Graypaw!" growled the golden tab na ang angrily narrowing his green eyes. I know, lion heart. I'm sorry. Graypaw looked down at his paws. Rusty copied Graypaw and crouched low to the forest floor, his ears twitching nervously. These cats had an air strength that he had never seen in any of his garden friends. Maybe what Smudge had warned him about was true. Who is this?" asked the sheicat. Rusty flinched as she turned her gaze on him. Her piercing blue eyes made him feel even more vulnerable. "He's no threat!" meowed Graypaw quickly. "He's not another clan warrior, just a two-legg pet from beyond our territories." "Just a two-leg pet?" The words inflamed Rusty, but he held his tongue. The warning book in Blue Star's stare told him that she had observed the anger in his eyes, and he looked away. "This is Blue Star. She's leader of my clan." Grandpa hissed to Rusty under his breath. "And Lionhe Heart, he's my mentor." Which means he's training me to be a warrior. "Thank you for the introduction, Graypaw!" meowed Lionhe Heart Blue Star was still staring at Rusty. You fight well for a two-legged pet. She meowed. Rusty and Graypaw exchanged confused glances. How could she know? We have been watching you both. Blue Star went on as if she had read their thoughts. We wondered how you would deal with an intruder, Graypaw. You attacked him bravely. Graypaw looked pleased at Blue Star's praise. "Sit up now, both of you." Blue Star looked at Rusty. "You, too, Kitty Pet." He sat up immediately and held Blue Star's gaze evenly as she addressed him. "You reacted well to the attack, Kitty Pet. Graypaw is stronger than you, and you used your wits to defend yourself, and you turned to face him when he chased you. I've not seen a kitty pet do that before. Rusty managed to nod his thanks by such unexpected praise. Her next words surprised him even more. I've been wondering how you would perform out here beyond two leg place. We patrol this border frequently, so I have often seen you sitting on your boundary, staring out into the forest. And now, at last, you have dared to place your paws here. Blue Stared at Rusty thoughtfully. You do seem to have a natural hunting ability. Sharp eyes. You would have caught that mouse if you had not hesitated so long. Really? Rusty stammered. Lionheart spoke now. His deep meow was respectful but insistent. Blue Star, this is a kitty pet. He should not be hunting in ThunderClan territory. Send him home to his two legs. Rusty prickled at Lionhe Heart's dismissive words. Send me home. He mwed impatiently. Blue Star's words had made him glow with pride. She had noticed him. She had been impressed by him. But I've only come here to hunt for a mouse or two. I'm sure there's enough to go around. Blue Star had turned her head to acknowledge Lionhe Heart's words. Now her gaze snapped back to Rusty. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger. There's never enough to go around, she spat. If you didn't live such a soft, overfed life, you would know that. Rusty was confused by Blue Star's sudden rage, but one glance at the horrified look on Graypaw's face was enough to tell him he had spoken way too freely. Lionheart stepped to his leader side. Both warriors loomed over him now. Rusty looked into Blue Star's threatening stare, and his pride dissolved. These were not cozy fireside cats he was dealing with. They were mean, hungry cats who were probably going to finish what Grandpa had started. It's been a while since I read this. A really, really long time. So, I honestly don't remember much of the plot and all the great characters. Just know that as this first chapter implies, there's a whole bunch of clans of cats. They still are acting like cats, but we're able as readers to understand their thoughts. Um, and then we understand their speech. It's kind of like Brian Jake's books, uh, Red Wall series. That's what I would compare it to. And I hope that um, if you aren't interested in trying the whole novel, at least you do try that graphic novel that I used to accompany this chapter. And then maybe that will make you want to read the entire novel.