Lost Creek Hollow Should've never ever ever forgot

Shadowpup didn’t know why she stirred. It was as if she was a trout plucked from a river by a fisherman - an unwilling candidate caught on the hook and pulled from its dreams.

In the waking world, the dark child stirred in her nest; a pile of old leaves in the corner of the rendezvous site. She began to sleepwalk, only half-awake, through the woods.

With each step, Shadowpup began to rouse and become more aware of what she was doing. Where she was going. Kismet crossed her path with Mae and suddenly Riverclan’s child, aptly named, stared directly at the mirror image of herself. A large, starless, shadow in the darkened wood.