Author's Note: HI EVERYBODY! I've really had this idea for ages, no idea why it took so long to get published. I'm just lazy, I suppose.

Anyway, this story follows four warriors, one from each clan, who, as you've probably guessed, are about to be reaped as some representatives to fight in the The Falling of the Leaves celebration. Though it's a predictable story-line (the clan are forced to take part in a Hunger Games and all that) I thought that this would be a little different. Because as stated in the summary, a clear victor is not decided! After we're about five or six chapters in, and we've got to know our main characters a little, I will set up a poll on my page, and the character with the most votes will become the winner of the Falling of the Leaves! This chapter is from the POV of Blazewing, our ThunderClan tribute. I know the first four chapters will be slightly dull since it's mostly just going to be introducing the characters and the reapings. But bare with it! It will get interesting soon, don't worry!

So yes, I hope you enjoy it. Read on, and plunge into the world of Ashstrike, Blazewing, Nightstalk and Twilightfur!

Blazewing's POV:

A small, reddish brown squirrel scurried through the undergrowth: searching with it's hawk-like eyes for nuts and seeds lying on the forest floor. The animals bushy tail waved in the air like a flag, almost like it was inviting a hunter to come and sink it's claws into the prey's back-bone. Blazewing shook his head. Stupid thing, he thought. Slowly flexing his claws and jaw, the ginger tom shot forward and expertly inflicted the killing bite upon the squirrel; it hardly turned it's head before it met death right in the face. Purring at his catch, Blazewing began to pull the catch back towards the overwhelming scent of his camp. It would feed half of ThunderClan... they'd need it on a day like this. The male turned his head to the sky, watching as the dappled leaves slowly fell from their branches and onto the ground. It was the first day of Leaf-fall- and that meant only one thing to the ThunderClan cats. It was the time when they would send six of their warriors, or even apprentices, to their imminent murder. Trying to shake his head of thoughts, Blazewing concentrated on his prey and tried to imagine the face of his mother, Sandpelt, as he carried this monster of a squirrel into the camp. She might even smile! The tom had never seen Sandpelt smile since his father had died.

Slowly, Blazewing arrived at the quarry. Through the entrance of brambles, he could just about see his clan mates lying in the open, their muscles sagged and their eyes drooped with dread. He sighed. Every day it was like this, miserable and dark. Every cat was haunted by Shade's dark, violent and evil reign over the clans. Ever since he and his huge band of blood-lusting rogues had beaten the clans in a war that had lasted almost two days of endless fighting, life had lost that thing they once called happiness. On the morning that Shade had beaten them, the first day of Leaf-Fall, he had decreed that for ever more, on this very day every year, the four clans would offer up six cats, three toms and three she-cats, to fight to the death as a reminder of their loss against his rogues. It has been know, ever since, as the Falling of the Leaves.

Taking a deep breath, Blazewing plunged into the clearing. "I'm back everyone!" he yowled.

Suddenly, cats turned their heads, and as they always did, they let the smallest smile pass over their faces; for just a moment. Then they would simply retreat back into their shells.

ThunderClan's pathetic excuse for a leader (Rockstar) raised his head. "Blazewing."

"Yes." He called back, dropping the squirrel down at the Highledge. "I caught a squirrel," he exclaimed, proudly raising his head. "It will feed half the clan!"

Rockstar looked down at the cats below him, narrowing his eyes. "It may fill their bellies," he murmured. "But I doubt it will fill their souls." This was all he said, before disappearing back into the shadows of his den.

Blazewing's own anger levels rose. That damned tom could at least try to raise our spirits! He imagined ripping his claws into the leader's face, pulling that scowl of his mouth. I might as well be the leader. It suddenly occurred to him that to the cats of ThunderClan, perhaps that was exactly what he was. Their leader.

Turning around, he nodded at the his friends and family, who were eyeing his prey hungrily. He grinned. "Go on, help yourself!"

They didn't have to be asked twice. Instantly, everyone shot forward and began to dig their teeth into the juicy flesh of the squirrel. Blazewing felt his stomach swell with pity. This was what his once powerful clan had been reduced to. Starving and unhappy, wishing they were dead every moment they lived. He hated watching them eat almost as much as he hated Shade.

StarClan, they're just so- NO! He roared in his mind. Don't even think about StarClan. Where was StarClan when Shade beat us to pulp and oppressed us into darkness?

Blazewing sat down, neatly tucking his paws under his belly, and began to dose in the heat of sun-high. He closed his eyes, trying to grasp what was real and what wasn't. Today, I'll most likely watch another six of my friends be chosen to die by one of Shade's little brutes. Oh... I don't want them to go. How much longer will these horrible cats torture us?

"Blazewing?" a voice woke him from his daydream. "Aren't you going to eat?"

It was Mintpaw, a small, silvery she-cat. Her clear, innocent blue eyes sparkled in the light. He smiled grimly: she had only just become an apprentice and didn't understand the horrors of the Falling of the Leaves. The cat looked up to Blazewing, and in return, he had always kept a close eye out for her. It was hard not to adore the small and sweet Mintpaw.

"Not at the moment, Mintpaw," he said.

She frowned, tilting her small head to one side. "Why not? Everyone else is!" She gestured towards the cats savagely ripping the squirrel apart. "Why shouldn't you?"

"Oh Mintpaw." Blazewing shook his head. "You and the clan need it more than I do- you're a strong and growing cat."

"But you caught it!" she said, swallowing large mouthful and trying to speak at the same time. "What's wrong with eating for you? I mean, you always the first cat to go hunting, but you don't act anything like us with food."

"Really," Blazewing retorted, getting a little frustrated at the young cat's pestering. "You definitely need it more than I do. All of you look half starved, at least I've got some fat on me."

Mintpaw stared at him for a long time, before shrugging. "Whatever you say Blazewing."

He nodded. Good. I don't want to look weak if I really do get reaped for the Falling of the Leaves. Sometimes the ginger tom honestly wanted to go into the games instead of his clan-mates; then he wouldn't have to listen to one of Shade's damn thugs telling ThunderClan gory and vivid descriptions of how their kin had died. Blazewing would go into The Falling of the Leaves looking wild, like a survivor. Someone used to living without support. That was the kind of impression he would play with the interviewer.

"You know, you really should listen to Mintpaw."

Blazewing growled. Was every cat begging him to eat! At least this time it was someone he could actually communicate with. Not that he didn't like Mintpaw, but... she just didn't understand.

This cat was Thrushclaw. He was a handsome brown tabby cat with deep green eyes and a long, swishing tail.

"And why do you think that, Thrushclaw?" Blazewing questioned, calmly.

Shaking his head, the brown tom sat down beside Blazewing and looked deep into the other's eyes. "Come one Blazewing!" he said quietly. "Snap to your senses. We owe you so much for the help you've given us over these past moons. I can honestly say we would have died if it weren't for you." His words touched a soft part in the ginger cat's heart. "What good are you doing both us and yourself if you don't eat?"

There was an ominous silence in which Blazewing could hear his heart thumping in his throat, before one word echoed from his mouth. "Okay."

Slowly, side by side with Thrushclaw, the tom made his way over to his catch. His clan-mates gave the two of them space to sit down. There, suddenly, he found himself devouring the prey with as much eagerness as the other members of ThunderClan.

"Is feeding always like this?" Blazewing asked.

Thrushclaw looked up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, is eating always this..." he stopped, searching for the right word. "Desperate?"

Immediately, he heard Thrushclaw's reply. "Yes. It is."

That was when the world stopped.

"I do hope you're not getting too comfortable down there!"

Blazewing turned his head to see who it was, and then a growl eminated from somewhere deep within his conciousness. For it had come. The reaping. Holly was here. The black she-cat, one of Shade's main lieutenants, made her way down into the camp, well fed and smiling. How dare she smile! How could she enjoy sending people to their deaths? "Gather gather!" she said, cheerfully. "The reaping will start soon!"

Don't remind me, Blazewing thought silently. Holly, still surrounded by bodyguards whose claws glinted in the sun menacingly, had finally found her way through the crowd and was sitting beneath the ledge. "So, where is ThunderClan's all mighty leader?" There was an edge of mockery in her tone and Blazewing instinctively bristled, and only to hear Thrushclaw's comforting whisper.

"I'm here." Rockstar yowled. Like he was already beaten, the shaken tom fought his way out of the den, until he was right beside Holly. "So, are you going to continue?"

She tutted, scraping her paws along the rock and letting her tail thud the ground. "So eager! Well, might as well get it over with." Clearing her throat, the she-cat began. "Well ThunderClan! So fantastic to see your... excited... faces once more." She smiled: ThunderClan glared. "Yes, so moving on. Here is the moment of truth! The cats who will represent you in the Falling of the leaves competition this year are..." You could have heard- a leaf fall in the silence that followed, where Holly paused for dramatic effect. "Runningsong."

Every head turned to the right, where the wiry she-cat sat. Blazewing was definitely surprised at how calm, cool and collected she looked. Almost carelessly, the cat made her way to the front until she was beside Aspenpaw. The ginger tom hadn't really known her well, all he knew was that she was a good hunter, and could fight if it came to it.

"The first male contestant." Holly quickly continued, trying to keep her voice bright. "Aspenpaw!"

An agonised wail sounded as the small, frightened tom made his way towards the front of the clan, shaking uncontrollably. Blazewing groaned. Not an apprentice.

"Well, what a handsome new representative!" Holly squealed girlishly as Aspenpaw approached. "The next female is Grassfur."

Another cat destined to die. Her approach was much like Aspenpaw's. Prepared to run if a twig snapped. He shook his head. ThunderClan hadn't had a victor in years; the future seemed bleak for this Falling of the Leaves as well.

"Well," Holly murmured. "Aren't ThunderClan offering up some great tributes this year! Our next male is Wildheart."

Blazewing inspected the senior cat. He had never really been a great hunter or fighter, average all around. It looked like he was dead for sure. The poor cat was nearing elder age! He looked away as Wildheart sat down beside Runningsong and Aspenpaw and Grassfur.

"The last two!" Holly said politely. "We have, Petalfall!"

This contestant was definitely much different from all the others. She had allways been the most attractive she-cat in the clan, and as she stepped forward she seemed almost dazzlingly delicate. Blazewing wouldn't bet on her chances, but she would certainly get fans: she was easy to look at.

"And so!" Holly's voice fell down to an unceremonious whisper. "We have our final tribute and our final tom for this year! Give it up for... Blazewing!"

StarClan. No. This isn't possible.

I'm going into the arena.

So what do you guys think of Blazewing? Like him? Tell me your thoughts in a review. Plz!