CHAPTER ONE The day began like any other. Ashpaw was collecting moss with another apprentice when she caught an unfamiliar scent. Not fox. Not badger. Not any Clan cat. It was old—so old it smelled of countless forests, dried herbs, rain, and long roads. Curious, she slipped away from camp. The scent led her beyond ThunderClan's borders, through a patch of pines, until she found an elderly she-cat drinking from a stream. The stranger looked ancient. Her silver fur had faded almost completely white, her legs trembled slightly with every step, and one of her ears was split down the middle. Deep scars crossed her shoulders, and her cloudy blue eyes carried a sadness that seemed older than the forest itself. Yet despite her age, she stood with quiet dignity. She noticed Ashpaw immediately. "I wondered how long it would take before curiosity brought someone to me." Ashpaw stood tall. "You aren't from RiverClan." "No." "ShadowClan?" The old she-cat smiled. "No." "Then who are you?" "My name is Mist." "Just Mist?" "Just Mist." Ashpaw blinked. "No Clan?" "I haven't belonged to one in many, many moons. Instead of chasing the stranger away, Ashpaw found herself walking beside her. Mist moved slowly, but every step was confident. She knew every herb growing beside the path. Every bird call. Every shortcut through the forest. "You've been here before," Ashpaw realized. Mist nodded. "I've been almost everywhere." "How?" "I've spent my life walking." Ashpaw couldn't imagine leaving one forest, let alone dozens. Mist told stories unlike anything the elders shared. She spoke of forests where snow stayed all year. Of cats living beside roaring waterfalls. Of deserts where prey hid beneath the sand. Ashpaw listened with wide eyes. "I thought there were only four Clans." Mist chuckled softly. "The world doesn't end where your borders do."
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