A/N: And here is the last chapter of Misconceptions, ending with the other most stereotyped Clan – ThunderClan. This chapter starts slowly and is a bit boring, because it's more like a story that takes chapters to pick up, if you get my meaning.

Disclaimer: ThunderClan does not equal teh best catz evar!!11 in my opinion. Therefore, I must not own Warriors.

ThunderClan

"Yes, old Longwhisker. They say he's the wisest cat you can find."

"Bah; any cat that has lived in four Clans and been kicked out of each can't have a drop of wisdom in him. What atrocities could he have committed to get exiled from even ShadowClan?"

"Dunno, but he also must have done some pretty bad stuff to get exiled from my Clan, too. We give lots of second chances, unlike most Clans, you know."

"ThunderClan – always pretending to be the kindest, but willing to brag about it at any moment. Really–"

Duskpaw listened to snatches of conversations as he practically inhaled all the sights and sounds of his first Gathering, wishing he had about eight more eyes and three more pairs of ears.

"So you became a warrior, eh? What's your name now?"

"It's Goldenpoppy. Just glad it wasn't Goldencloud – my mother and her mother and her mother and her mother and so on have been getting cloud as an ending for ages. What about you, Darkpaw? I doubt you're an apprentice anymore, either."

"Darkberry, now. You wouldn't imagine all the cheering I got –"

Duskpaw twirled around and jerked his head right and left, looking for any friendly looking apprentices that appeared to be his age. The only two he saw were both ShadowClan – definitely not friendly or a potential friendship; they were, after all, ShadowClan – and there was one other, WindClanner by the smell, but she didn't look too nice either.

Really, all Duskpaw had to occupy himself with was eavesdrop on the conversations of cats he didn't even know.

"Did you hear what that senile cat Longwhisker did this past moon?" some pale WindClan cat said to, what seemed to Duskpaw, a RiverClanner or ShadowClanner (Duskpaw always got confused between the two, despite how much his Clan complained about ShadowClan's pungent, distinctive scent), the cat shaking his head.

"The mousebrain wandered into our territory, muttering some gibberish and saying Clan cats needed to know 'The Truth' or some mouse bile like that. We think he thought he was in ThunderClan, because he kept on demanding to meet with Heartstar. Blathering on and wailing, 'You need to clear your heads of stereotypes! Stop the prejudice! Face your true selves!" Bile, complete bile." The WindClanner shook his head in disbelief, as if he could barely believe the tale he had just recounted.

Within a couple minutes' time the Gathering officially begun, with Heartstar of ThunderClan, Spinestar of WindClan, Fogstar of RiverClan, and Pinestar of ShadowClan taking their places at the branches of a tree, with their deputies at the foot of it.

Duskpaw inspected each of the leaders. There was the leader of his Clan, Heartstar, with his fiery ginger pelt and warm green eyes. He was a descendant of the famed, legendary leader Firestar, who had been ThunderClan leader and savior of the Clans so many moons ago…Duskpaw thought Heartstar was just like: kind, brave, strong, responsible, admirable, friendly, and any other positive description Duskpaw could think of.

The dusky gray tom ogled the other leaders, excited to see the leaders he had heard so much about from his Clanmates.

Fogstar was a sleek and small silver tom, with sharp amber eyes that looked like nothing could get past them. His tail swished about as he listened to the reports of the other Clans, head held high and proud. Duskpaw supposed he looked like a good leader, too, perhaps nearly as wonderful as Heartstar.

The WindClan leader, Spinestar, surprised Duskpaw a bit by being a she-cat; he had thought of the name Spinestar as more masculine. But Spinestar was a she-cat, and a sinewy, brown furred one with rather piercing yellow eyes. The brightness and odd piercing quality they had to them made Duskpaw look away when he first glanced at them, making him feel rather ashamed. They were only eyes, after all.

Duskpaw cast his gaze at Pinestar, leader of ShadowClan, expecting to see a cold, cruel looking cat who looked positively evil and had a permanent sneer fixed on his lips, with a dark pelt to reflect the color of his heart.

To his surprise, he didn't find anything like that at all. Pinestar had a bristly, dark brown pelt and leaf green eyes; a smile played about his mouth as his whiskers twitched. He was around the same size as Heartstar, not the hulk Duskpaw had expected him to be. The expression in his eyes actually looked rather amiable, if such a word could be used to describe a ShadowClanner.

"He doesn't look too bad," Duskpaw murmured, accidentally stating his thoughts aloud.

A fellow ThunderClanner sitting next to him, a young warrior named Foxflash, muttered darkly, "Yeah, that's what they all say. Sneaky mind, though. He's not a ShadowClanner for nothing. Wouldn't try crossing him."

Duskpaw nodded and ingrained the fact into his head: ShadowClanners – worse than they look.

"Any news to report, Spinestar?"

Spinestar's whiskers twitched. "Nothing much has happened in WindClan over the past moon. One apprentice, Goldenpaw, has become Goldenpoppy," – cheers rang out as the she-cat Goldenpoppy stood up, eyes glimmering bashfully – "and we had a bit of trouble when the loner Longwhisker" – groans came collectively from cats of all Clans; evidently this Longwhisker was quite a troublemaker – "came into our territory, thinking we were ThunderClanners and demanding to talk to me, though he thought I was Heartstar. I presume he hasn't come to you, Heartstar?"

Heartstar shook his head and purred, "Like you, ThunderClan has had a tranquil time this moon. However, we are pleased to report we have a new apprentice, Duskpaw."

Duskpaw felt his cheeks burn and yet feel oddly cold as all eyes turned to him, scouring his appearance. He momentarily wondered if he should be doing something impressive to show his ThunderClan pride. Just as he decided yes, he probably should, all gazes turned away from him and back to the leaders. Duskpaw sighed.

"We have yet to see any trouble from Longwhisker," Heartstar continued. Murmurs erupted from the crowd of Clan cats, each with the gist of "Typical Longwhisker," and "Longwhisker, that mousebrain…don't think his mind's in the right place, most likely never was."

Duskpaw left his first Gathering wondering who this Longwhisker cat was, why he caused such a stir, and, if what those cats whose conversation he had listened in on were right, how did he manage to live in and get exiled from all the Clans?

The next day, Duskpaw asked his mentor, a senior warrior called Bristleheart, about this cat who he had never heard of before.

Bristleheart shook his head at the question. "Longwhisker's completely batty," he mewed, "has the brain of a rabbit."

"Yes, I picked that up when I heard cats talking about him," Duskpaw responded, eyes rolling. "But why do so many cats hate him?"

Bristleheart sighed. "Okay. Longwhisker was born Longkit, here in our very own Clan, ThunderClan. When he was an apprentice, he was exiled for some reason I never found out – I was born after he left, you see. He then traveled to RiverClan and they took him in, and he stayed there until he was normal warrior age – not a senior warrior, but not near apprentice age either. But at the next Gathering, the leader of RiverClan back then, Miststar, announced that Longwhisker had been exiled from the Clan. Of course she didn't tell us why, as most Clans prefer not to divulge reasons for exile. After that, somehow Longwhisker got himself accepted into WindClan – perhaps for his knowledge of two other territories, or maybe just because the WindClan leader was a generous cat. So he thrived there for a few moons, until he was about the age of a senior warrior. Same deal as with RiverClan, it was declared he was exiled and the other Clans weren't told why.

"Then, he got into ShadowClan. All the other Clans still wonder how, considering what ShadowClan's like. Why would they want a strange cat who has been exiled from all other Clans? Maybe it was his knowledge of all other territories – it was known Longwhisker had an excellent memory – or some other obscure reason, but probably not because the ShadowClan leader is a generous cat; you remember the lessons, ShadowClan are cruel, mean and not to be trusted."

At this Duskpaw nodded.

"During his stay in ShadowClan, he also moved into the elders den, but he only stayed there for about a moon. At that next Gathering, the ShadowClan leader announced that Longwhisker had chosen to leave ShadowClan and become a loner – yes, not exiled; he left of his own choice. Some said that since he had belonged to all Clans he couldn't really be only one Clan, and so wasn't a Clan cat anymore, but whatever the reason, he left to the Twolegplace and still lives there now, an old loner. Many Clan cats say he's immeasurably wise, that he gives you the best advice, and that he's very kind." Bristleheart scoffed and his eyes narrowed. "ThunderClan, of course, know better. After all, we were his Clan of birth. He was barmy since he was a kit, questioning StarClan and the warrior code and ThunderClan's kind ways. But apparently ShadowClan – ShadowClan – holds that squirrel-brained tom in respect. ShadowClan of all cats hold that tom, of all cats, in great respect. But nowadays, insanity is easily thought to be wisdom, so ShadowClan would obviously think such a cat is wise."

"Trust ShadowClan," Duskpaw meowed, turning over this newfound information about the mysterious Longwhisker in his head. He couldn't believe a cat could do so much wrong to get exiled from every single Clan! Well, not everyone, but three was almost every Clan, anyway. The point was he'd been in each Clan and left each one. Surely he could have learned after being exiled for the second time, at least?

"Learn from his example, Duskpaw," Bristleheart said sternly, sniffing at the thought of Longwhisker. "You never want to be like him – be loyal and be a good ThunderClanner: strong, brave, kind, helpful, smart, and obeying the warrior code."

Duskpaw nodded, eager to do whatever Bristleheart wished, especially anything that was the opposite of that awful cat Longwhisker; it seemed he'd done everything wrong. Obviously ShadowClan would like him, because they did everything wrong, too, right? Yes, right.

"Now," said Bristleheart. "Remember how Tansyleaf's apprentice caught over ten pieces of prey yesterday?"

Duskpaw nodded, nose instantly wrinkling as he remembered Thornpaw boasting about his fine hunting skills and how he'd caught so much prey yesterday. He wanted to hunt more prey than Thornpaw so badly; that would show him who was the better hunter!

"Well, I told Tansyleaf today that my apprentice – you – could hunt more prey than her apprentice, Thornpaw. So in the same amount of time that Thornpaw hunted – you remember how long he hunted for, right?"

"Yes, Bristleheart," Duskpaw replied, heart speeding up as he understood what Bristleheart was saying.

"Okay, well, you're going to hunt in the same amount of time he did, and try to catch more prey, a bit like a little contest. We'll show Tansyleaf and Thornpaw who's the better hunter! What do you say, Duskpaw?"

"That's great!" Duskpaw mewed, tail swishing.

Mentor and apprentice walked out of the ThunderClan camp, and Duskpaw paced, eager to start. "Can I start now?" he asked, voice breathless.

Bristleheart smiled and purred, "Staaaarrrtttiiinggg….now!"

The wiry, dusky gray apprentice dashed off into the forest, senses on overdrive and practically begging to pick up any sign of prey, be it scent, tracks, or disturbed underbrush.

But when Duskpaw glimpsed a vole poking its nose through the grass, he didn't go after it, didn't pounce. Where he expected the words "Get the vole" in his mind to be, he found various questions and speculations about Longwhisker. So it was when he saw the squirrel scrambling up the oak tree, the mouse sleeping under a shelter of thick grass and leaves, and two fat mice snuffling and plodding around, looking for nuts and such. All that he could think was about Longwhisker; Longwhisker, Longwhisker, Longwhisker. Something about him, even after Bristleheart had told Duskpaw about the tom, just seemed infinitely mysterious and interesting.

Thornpaw had been out for the whole day. Surely that would be enough time. From what others had said, Longwhisker lived in a small Twolegplace just beyond ThunderClan territory. Duskpaw wouldn't need to spend too much time there; he could have a small chat with Longwhisker and then go back to the forest and beat that record that Thornpaw made. What Bristleheart wanted would be done, and what Duskpaw wanted would be done.

Making sure no other cat was near so that he wouldn't get in trouble for straying from the territory and into the Twolegplace, Duskpaw started to walk off in the direction of the Twolegplace, careful to cover up most of the signs that he had been there as he went.

A clean tom with long brown fur and a powerful, stuffy scent that smelled far too sweet stood in front of Duskpaw.

"Why is your fur so dirty?" was the first thing the tom asked, sniffing and then recoiling in disgust; evidently he found Duskpaw's scent dirty too.

"Er…" Duskpaw murmured, thinking, What a vain kittypet!

Before the long furred cat would flounce away, Duskpaw blurted, "Do you know of an old tom called Longwhisker who lives around here?"

The tom's nose wrinkled and he scowled, as if smelling something particularly unpleasant. "Unfortunately – the cat's never been groomed one day of his life, and his fur is always a mess! I don't know where exactly he lives; probably some place just as filthy as he is – and you. Excuse me, but after this, I need to get groomed again." And with that, the snobby kittypet ran off, presumably to his Twolegs, emitting mewls as he did.

Duskpaw wondered what "grooming" was. Was it like sharing tongues or getting clean? He thought not.

Walking through the streets and taking time to gawk at the strange Twolegnests, Duskpaw eventually caught sight of another cat. This one looked like a loner, which meant the cat would probably know where Longwhisker lived. He padded over to the cat, a choppy furred tabby who was, at the moment, sitting still and looking at something across the street.

The tabby turned and faced him. "What do you want?" he said immediately, voice ragged and in a flat tone.

More accustomed to the sometimes elaborate greetings of the Clans, Duskpaw involuntarily staggered a couple mouse-lengths backwards and meowed, "Erm, do you know where the loner Longwhisker lives?"

The somewhat harsh, craggy look that the tabby had faded away, giving way to something that looked like reverence in the cat's slightly widened eyes.

"Longwhisker?" the tabby murmured. "He lives in between the small, pale, yellow Twolegnest and the kind of big, light brown Twolegnest. There's lots of tall grass there.

Duskpaw turned around to see if he could spot the Twolegnests; he thought he saw a stout yellow Twolegnest, and turned back around to thank the loner, but he had gone.

Momentarily wondering if all loners were as blunt as him, Duskpaw walked on to see if the two Twolegnests Longwhisker lived between sat farther up ahead.

After passing a few more Twolegnests, Duskpaw saw the two Twolegnests that the loner had spoken of. Between a small, yellow Twolegnest and a brown Twolegnest, he saw a narrow place overgrown with tall grass and weeds. It looked as if no Twoleg had bothered to pay attention to it in a while, so obviously the Twolegs wouldn't care if a cat started living in a place they neglected.

Padding over to the narrow grass filled place, he stuck his nose in and instantly got it back out, wrinkling his nose; the grass tips certainly felt sharp. Swallowing, Duskpaw crinkled his prickled nose and tried to ignore the stinging. As he tried to hold his head up as high as he could so it would escape the sharp grass, he cautiously entered. His nose didn't get scraped, and he shuffled through, the grass ruffling his fur. After he was a few tail-lengths in, he called in a rather small, quavery voice, "Longwhisker?"

"Why, is that ThunderClan scent I smell?" a voice mewed; Duskpaw guessed this was his answer. The voice's creaky sound seemed rather loud, perhaps because it was usually the only sound in this little nest. Despite the creakiness which seemed to yowl, "OLD CAT!" Longwhisker didn't sound at all like the elders in Duskpaw's Clan, nor did he sound incredulous, despite the inflection he had put on the word ThunderClan.

"Er…yes it is, Longwhisker," Duskpaw mewed back.

"So it is a young ThunderClanner, eh?" Duskpaw heard Longwhisker's tremulous voice again. "I'm in the tree that has a small hollow at the bottom. I know you have something to ask me."

Starting to walk again, eventually Duskpaw saw the tall grass starting to peter out, giving way to some more relatively tall grass, but not as tall as before. A few fox-lengths away their stood a stout oak tree that appeared to be hollowed out at the bottom. Padding up a couple more tail-lengths, Duskpaw saw a pair of yellow eyes gleaming out of the dark hollow. "Long – Longwhisker?" Duskpaw asked.

Longwhisker stepped out of the hollow, long whiskers twitching. He was a rather small cat, with scraggly gray fur with darker stripes, and unusually long whiskers, from which he got his name, Duskpaw assumed.

"So, what have you come for, little ThunderClanner? Have you come to antagonize me, to insult me and try to hurt me? You're ThunderClan, after all," Longwhisker's rather friendly looking face suddenly looked suspicious and untrusting, his yellow eyes narrowed.

Duskpaw opened his mouth to say no, then actually realized what Longwhisker had said. What he had said went against everything Duskpaw had ever learned of his Clan. Longwhisker had claimed ThunderClanners loved to antagonize, to insult, to hurt. That was a ShadowClanner, not a ThunderClanner!

Duskpaw proceeded to state this. "What are you talking about? ThunderClanners are nothing like that! We're not antagonizing and insulting and mean and cruel; we're kind, nice, brave, strong, we obey the warrior code, and we do what's right. I think you might have gotten us mixed up with ShadowClan. They're cruel, arrogant, selfish, and don't obey the warrior code. They're also mean and cowardly."

Longwhisker blinked, eyes widened just a smidge. Then he sighed, a sigh that seemed to sigh for all the Clans. "They've poisoned you well with their ways and beliefs, eh, little ThunderClanner? Very well, I'd say. I wouldn't be surprised if they gained full and complete control over StarClan soon…"

"What? ThunderClan doesn't control StarClan? They tell us what to do, and we respect them! Not the other way around…"

Longwhisker laughed and shook his head, a sad gleam in his yellow eyes.

"Yes, maybe moons and moons ago, when the great Firestar ruled ThunderClan and battled the wicked Tigerstar, as the legends say, but not now. Now ThunderClan may as well be called StarClan."

Duskpaw could now see why ThunderClan had exiled Longwhisker as an apprentice, and why WindClan and RiverClan had done the same.

Leave this crazy cat, a voice said in Duskpaw's head. He isn't worth it and he has the brain of a newborn rabbit. If you leave him you won't miss out on anything except for a decidedly strange meeting with a decidedly strange cat.

Duskpaw had to agree. "Bye," he mewed in a firm voice, and he turned around and started to walk back to the forest and beat that bragger Thornpaw. Who wanted to talk with some mousebrained old cat, anyway?

Longwhisker just smiled and murmured, "You can't cheat fate, little kitling."

Throbbing, throbbing over and over. The beat is louder than the words that accompany it, but the words are known from memory: Fate doesn't take kindly to being cheated. It's been heard so many times the words are ingrained into the head, couldn't be forgotten even with the most heartfelt and determined attempt. Fate doesn't make anyone forget unless it's decreed. And until he goes back, Fate won't let the words slip away from the mind.

Fate doesn't take kindly to being cheated.

Fate is the only one who can be a voice in the head. If the voice isn't Fate's, something's wrong.

No voice was supposed to say to leave a supposedly strange cat. No voice was to incite the continuing of the ignorance. Fate liked it when the truth was discovered, especially when Fate decreed so.

But by some fluke, truth was delayed. It rather messed things up in the Clans for Fate, especially when Fate had to take all that time reciting that mantra over and over again in the mind until it was understood another visit to Fate's current representative, Longwhisker, would have to be paid. Now, if Fate hadn't chanted that phrase enough, an ignorant cat would soon become leader of ThunderClan and continue its misled descent further into disaster. And Fate wanted to help the Clans, not destroy them. They were in enough of a deep hole as it was…

Fate doesn't take kindly to being cheated…

"Fine!" Duskwing yowled, rising from his sleeping position in the warriors den. "I understand. Fate doesn't take kindly to being cheated. Whatever that means."

Suddenly realizing he was mewing all this aloud, Duskwing hastily looked around, but all cats were still asleep. He supposed it was lucky that they had just had a battle with WindClan yesterday; every cat was suitably exhausted to stay sleeping until sunhigh.

Moons; it had been moons and moons and moons since that strange incident when Duskwing was an apprentice. And ever since then, that phrase had echoed over and over in Duskwing's head whenever he was sleeping or idle while he was awake. It was a wonder Duskwing hadn't gone mad. But he had managed to put up with it.

However, it had gotten more intensive since Duskwing was made deputy two moons ago after the deputy since Duskwing was born, Russetflame, had been killed by a WindClan patrol. That was when troubles with WindClan had started coming to a head.

But after Russetflame died, the words repeated themselves in Duskwing's head night and day; it made no difference if he was idle or sleeping.

Duskwing supposed the voice had gotten frustrating for not making him go crazy through the seasons, but instead of roaring out the mantra (it was always said in a reasonable tone) this time it was barely a whisper, maybe a soft croon that had a faint mocking tone to it.

The implications of the way it was said were too much. Whatever this voice wanted to do, Duskwing had to do. Whatever to get it to stop and make fate or whatever be un-cheated.

As if being guided by StarClan, Duskwing knew where to go to make it cease: that cat, Longwhisker. Duskwing had almost forgotten who he was, but now his memory had become vivid and he remembered every single detail about the encounter.

Including a new one.

Duskwing remembered hearing Longwhisker murmur something while he left, but he had never heard what Longwhisker had said precisely. But now with this new and more vivid memory, he knew exactly what Longwhisker had said:

"You can't cheat fate, little kitling."

Well, that certainly explained a lot.

Momentarily considering the voice that had resounded in his head for moons and moons and seasons and seasons may have been Longwhisker's, Duskwing almost immediately tossed away the theory; Longwhisker's voice was old, wheezy, and creaky, while the voice in his mind was…a voice. Rather indescribable. Besides, how would Longwhisker had gotten his voice to say that in Duskwing's mind?

Deciding not to worry about such things at the moment, Duskwing padded out of ThunderClan camp, making sure to leave no signs of his departure.

Fate was glad. Longwhisker would get his long-awaited for visit, and ThunderClan would soon be restored. But soon was a relative phrase; for Fate, soon could mean hundreds of years. But considering time for the Clans wasn't as long as say, time for the humans, soon probably meant less than a century this time.

Fate watched the dusky gray deputy travel to the small town where Longwhisker lived. In just a few minutes, the cat would know the truth; and what a truth it would be.

Duskwing reached the space between the brown Twolegnest and the yellow Twolegnest soon after he arrived at the Twolegplace. Holding his head up to the sky so as not to get his nose prickled by the tall grass, he shuffled his way through the grass until it got shorter and he could see the wide oak tree which contained the hollow that Longwhisker lived in.

By the time Duskwing stood a few mouse-lengths away from the oak, Longwhisker had already poked his head out. "So you're back!" he meowed brightly, yellow eyes shining. "I told you fate couldn't be cheated. It always comes back to bite you in the tail."

"Um," said Duskwing, now wondering why he was here. What was he supposed to do once he got here, anyway? He hadn't been psychically informed on that.

Well, said the logical part of Duskwing's head, why were you here before?

To find out more about Longwhisker and why he was exiled from nearly every Clan, or at least that was how Duskwing remembered it.

I mean the other part! Duskwing's logical section said.

Oh…now Duskwing remembered. Near the end of Duskwing's visit, Longwhisker had started rambling on about ThunderClan; Duskwing dimly remembered retorting what Longwhisker was saying described ThunderClan more than ShadowClan.

The truth about ThunderClan. That had to be it.

"You can tell me now," Duskwing sighed. "What my Clan's really like. Or whatever it is you meant to tell me all those moons ago."

Longwhisker's expression lost a good amount of its cheer. "Okay," he mewed, eyes gazing down at the ground. "ThunderClan may have once been called the greatest Clan; the nicest, the kindest, the bravest, the strongest, the best. Now – now ThunderClan can be perfectly described as – if there even truly is such a thing – as evil."

"Was I supposed to be extremely shocked by that?" Duskwing questioned. The way Longwhisker had hissed the last part seemed to suggest that Duskwing's eyes should have widened in horror as he realized everything he had always believed in was a fake.

"In theory, yes," Longwhisker replied. "In reality, no. If I've just told you and haven't even given you any evidence or proof to support this, there's no reason for you to be horrified." Longwhisker's temporarily lighthearted expression darkened once again. "But casting away the dramatics, you really need to know," he hissed, tail swishing. "ThunderClan isn't anything like it was in the time of the great Firestar and his nemesis Tigerstar and their children, despite outward appearances. Now," Longwhisker meowed as he fixed a stern gaze on Duskwing, "what would you describe ThunderClan as back then?"

Duskwing had always liked tales of Firestar and his descendants as a kit, and thus, knew the characteristics of ThunderClan and its members in that time. "ThunderClan was a great Clan. They were brave and kind and always did what was right, even at the expense of not obeying the warrior code. They were strong and won nearly every one of their battles, and had noble and clever cats. ThunderClan was truly the best of the Clans." He smiled.

"How would you describe ThunderClan now?" Longwhisker asked.

Duskwing's expression took on a quizzical one. "Why the same, of course," he mewed. "We're not that different than we were back then, except for several great cats such as Firestar."

Longwhisker sighed. "And that is where you're wrong. ThunderClan has changed a great many ways since the time of Firestar. I found out what happened to ThunderClan when I was an apprentice, which is why I was exiled from there."

So that was why he was exiled…

"How has it changed?" Duskwing asked, his brow furrowing.

"Back then," Lomgwhisker began, "ThunderClan was actually much how you described it, but you left one important adjective out: at that time, ThunderClan was still honest." As Duskwing opened his mouth to state his confusion, Longwhisker cut him off and continued speaking, saying, "I know what you're going to say. Isn't ThunderClan still honest? No, it isn't, ThunderClan hasn't been honest for seasons and seasons.

"At a point in time, ThunderClan grew inflated with this…almost perfection that they had. Any prophecies that came about? The subject was usually a ThunderClanner. Abnormally good medicine cats or leaders? Even the other Clans had to acknowledge it was a ThunderClanner. Because of this, the ThunderClan leaders and medicine cats met with StarClan more than most, and spent enough time with them to acquire a knowledge of what StarClan was like. Too much knowledge. Before long, one arrogant and unfortunately, clever ThunderClan leader, Flamestar, had StarClan under his paw with the help of his medicine cat, Wingfeather. They thought ThunderClan was the best Clan. And whoever was the best deserved the best. In this case, 'the best' meant StarClan's favor. And if StarClan was basically reduced to being under their direction – one can get hurt in dreams from StarClan, you see, and StarClan was weakened from being no more than starry spirits – then of course they would favor ThunderClan. Any prophecies that may have gone to another Clan medicine cat would now go to ThunderClan, and the prophecy's subject would now be a ThunderClanner. ThunderClan had almost no bad luck and flourished, easily becoming the most populated Clan. The medicine cat and leader would break the warrior code and not get punished for it, and they could do virtually anything they wanted.

"Each ThunderClan leader would pass on these secrets to their deputy when they were on the brink of dying, and who would pass up such an offer? The cats were greedy for power, and did they ever get it. The other ThunderClanners remain blissfully ignorant of all this, but have an inkling of what's going on – and if any of those cats got as far in their discovery as I did, they didn't care and just reveled in this newfound information. At this rate, ThunderClan will gain control of every other Clan too, with the help of StarClan, and the essential meaning of the Clans will be destroyed.

"Now you are deputy, and Heartstar will die soon. You now know what you can do as a leader ahead of time, but so you can see what's so wrong with it. Will you stop it when you become leader? Or will you just go along with it like the leaders before you for the power?"

Duskwing stared. Longwhisker really was crazy. "I cannot believe," Duskwing spat, "that I just wasted some of my life listening to this mousebrained drivel. I can see why you were exiled – not because you figured out ThunderClan's 'secret', but because you're just so crazy! Who could believe all of that besides you? Perhaps a squirrel, and maybe even not that!" His eyes narrowed and he shook his head in disbelief. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going back to ThunderClan territory to participate in my perfectly normal and honest life. Good day to you, Longwhisker." And with that, Duskwing turned around and strode out of Longwhisker's hollow, headed back to ThunderClan territory.

Longwhisker just watched him go, mouth wide open and yellow eyes widened. He had not been alerted to this. Surely this wasn't a fluke? But with nothing to reassure himself, Longwhisker had to just lay down in his moss nest and ponder these recent events, hoping they would come out for the best.

"What do you want, Heartstar?" Duskwing gazed at his formerly strong leader, now weak and on the verge of losing his last life.

Heartstar stared at him with his piercing green eyes. "I have a lot to tell you," he rasped as he pawed the air from his position in his moss nest. "You have much to learn for when you become ThunderClan leader."

"Tell me," Duskwing breathed, eyes widened with eagerness as if he was no more than a kit begging for elders' tales and not a mature deputy.

"You were always told that we, ThunderClan, were the best of the Clans, the bravest, the strongest, the kindest," Heartstar mewed.

Duskwing nodded.

"We – that is, ThunderClan's leaders and medicine cats – have always known that, too. We know we are the perfect Clan, and we deserve what no other Clan does – every highest honor and recognition."

Duskwing nodded; this was true. But an odd feeling was creeping up his spine…

"StarClan knows this too," Heartstar said, his voice dropping lower; so no other cats would hear this, Duskwing guessed.

"So," Heartstar continued, "we have been granted a huge, huge reward."

"What is this reward?" Duskwing whispered, his voice practically swelling with excitement. Yet something about this made him feel uneasy…

"We control our fates," Heartstar rumbled. "We tell StarClan what to do, and we receive good fortune."

No.

"We have been blessed," Heartstar said, a smile spreading across his face. "ThunderClan is given the best because it is the best."

No.

It was true, it was all true, what Longwhisker had said. It wasn't the ramblings of mousebrained old tom, it was the true tellings of a smart cat who had discovered it all.

But…but it couldn't be. Heartstar would never do such a thing. He was a great leader, a noble leader. How could he love to do such a thing, and call it a blessing? How could he?

This…this couldn't go on. ThunderClan could only be the best if it was equal with the other Clans, if it truly achieved its good fortune. Right now it was the worst.

I will change this when I become leader, Duskwing thought determinedly, I will make ThunderClan an honest Clan again, a Clan that truly is the best. I will make it like it used to be in the days of Firestar – perfect, but by itself.

Fate smiled.

Things would be going well soon in ThunderClan again, and they would be a good and normal Clan, just like the others. Duskwing would make sure of that. He had vowed so, and most would break promises to others more than promises to themselves.

Wait…

Duskwing had vowed to make ThunderClan again like it was in the times of Firestar.

In the times of Firestar, kittypets, loners, and rogues had been accepted into the Clan, at the extent to which each Clan complained about it. But even so, at that time ThunderClan was virtually perfect. There were almost no flaws, which was impossible for a Clan of cats with different personalities. The other Clans would despise them and far from being perfect (though they would be) they'd be hated. Eventually a big battle would probably break out because of this; one so big Clans would have to choose sides.

Fate swore.

A/N: Yeah, the ending was a bit odd, especially the Fate bits, but it was really fun to put those in.

I think the obvious misconception isn't actually written quite so obviously here, but it's more about ThunderClan's perception of themselves than the other Clans', because I had to choose one or the other with this.

Constructive criticism appreciated.