I've read a few stories like this and after a while, I decided that I wanted to give it a try.

It won't be as long as my others, and if I don't get any feedback, then I'll probably just scrap it.

So, here's the prologue, enjoy and send me your thoughts in a review.

. . .

A ragged sound of something being torn echoed around the nursery.

Featherkit flinched.

They were at it again.

The other two kits were blissfully unaware of her discomfort, and they continued to play-flight, purring and growling the entire way.

At one point, the pair knocked her paws, causing her to stagger slightly.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and one kit- her brother, Featherkit supposed- shot her a sharp glare, swiftly accompanied by a fierce glower.

"Move!" He snarled, his lip curling to the point that his razor-sharp kit teeth were exposed.

Against her better judgement, Featherkit moved to the side, careful to keep her eyes on her paws as she did so.

Her brother scoffed. "Shoulda called you Twistkit instead," he muttered.

Featherkit couldn't even muster up a glare- no, she was far too timid for that sort of thing.

She gazed mournfully down at her paws.

Oh, she hated them.

One was smaller than normal while the other was twisted beyond recognition.

It would be a miracle if she were to even make an apprentice, let alone train.

It really was no wonder that her brother hated her so much.

She was a cripple.

And she hated herselfd for it.

Maybe if she had a higher self-esteem of herself then she'd stand up to her brother.

But Featherkit didn't.

But she tried.

She tried so hard to prove that she wasn't a burden.

Tried so hard to prove that she was worthy to exist.

It didn't do anything.

Nothing happemed.

Every effort that Featherkit came up with was spat right back in her face.

And it was after the tenth try that Featherkit finally realised.

Her brother simply didn't care.

Nobody did, really.

However, Featherkit refused to let this get her down.

She may be a cripple, but she wasn't weak.

Yet, now that she thought about it, Featherkit realised that she didn't possess a single friend in ThunderClan.

It was like everybody hated her.

So, steeling her resolve, Featherkit muttered, "I need to get out of here."

She half padded, half hobbled from the nursery and into the camp outside.

She was already five moons, and she knew that, in one moon's time, she would become an apprentice.

And despite the hateful, lonely atmosphere of the nursery, Featherkit refused to let her spirits go down.

And she was so consumed in her thoughts that she didn't look up until it was too late.

Thud!

Featherkit grunted as the force of the collision sent her backwards, her crippled front paws digging into the ground for dear life.

When she finally did look up, an apology was on the tip of her tongue, and not a second later, she was blushing to the tips of her ears and stuttering out incoherent apologies.

Featherkit was that embarrassed and horrified by what she'd done.

The cat in front of her was probably an apprentice, but Featherkit had never seen her before.

"Hey," she mewed kindly. "Stop apologising so much. It's fine."

Featherkit immediately snapped her mouth shut, still blushing heavily.

She kept her gaze firmly glued to the ground, but it was the apprentice's voice that made her look up.

And what a pretty apprentice she was!

Her pelt was dark-brown and her eyes pale green.

"Hey," she repeated, grassy green eyes wide in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Wha-" Featherkit broke off, blushing heavily, and in a much quieter voice, she mewed, "Yeah, I'm fine."

The she-cat was smiling now.

"That's good, then," she said. "My name's Grasspaw, if you were wondering."

Grasswing, huh? Featherkit mused, it matched her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm Featherkit," she answered dazedly.

"Cool," Grasspaw said, then tentavely shifted, suddenly looking awkward, eyeing Featherkit's twisted paw. "I'll be going now."

Featherkit followed her gaze, and she felt a fresh wave of anger boil in the pit of her stomach.

Grasspaw had been fine at first, then when she'd caught gaze of Featherkit's paw, she had recoiled much like everyone else.

"Go then," Featherkit whispered in resignition.

As she watched Grasspaw leave, she couldn't help but wonder what made her what she was.

"A freak," Featherkit whispered.

Why did everyone hate her?

Was it because she was so crippled that they recoiled as if she were the worst sort of crowfood?

Her anger became smoldering.

She would show them.

She would show them all.