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Description
  "Poor Smoke," Dark had overheard one of their housefolk say in a dismayed tone, after his mother had hissed and swatted at him with a furious pale paw when he had tried to stroke her. "She's been acting so angry and restless lately. Do you think she still misses her other kittens?"
The female had been just as confused. "Perhaps," she murmured. "It's unfortunate that the little specks died so soon after she had them, but it couldn't be helped where she gave birth while we had let her out, and bless our lucky stars that we found her before she could lose the last one. Besides, that was a couple of months ago. Cats can be moody sometimes, perhaps she just needs a rest from taking care of the one that did make it."
"I suppose," the male companion had answered. "But is she doesn't feel better within the next few days, we might need to consider taking her to the vet. She might be coming down with something, our poor kitty."
The housefolk had gone to their room long ago, leaving Dark and Smoke alone in the living room as the rain began. Now, the two of them were curled up together on the windowsill, watching the water streak down the glass like liquid worms and the garden turn muddy and slightly disarrayed. However, instead of Smoke grooming her young son with her tongue while softly telling him stories like she normally did before they retreated to their bed to sleep, the gray she-cat had her gaze locked on the garden. Dark saw no gentle compassion or longing for her lost kits on his mother's face; her blue eyes were hard and angry, her paws strained and stretched as though she wished she still had her absent claws so she could scratch something in her frustration. Dark lifted his head to look at her. Smoke was growling under her breath to herself.
"Stupid, lying, untrustworthy piece of dung," she snarled. "How dare he not only take in me, but his own kit, into his pathetic Clan? Unfaithful, scheming tom. I hope a dog tears him and his no-good wild cat buddies to shreds and feasts on their innards."
"Mom?" Dark squeaked, trying to get her attention.
"Too soft and delicate to be a warrior, he says!" Smoke continued to ramble, her paws still contorting desperately. "He's lucky that I didn't bite his throat out right then and there for saying that about his own son. Our son, Onewhisker! Our only surviving kit, and this is how you treat him? Like a hopeless scrap of fur? He could grow up to be twice the warrior you ever will be if you would let him in, rabbit-munching coward. He's got the brain of a sheep, that stupid Clan cat, the brain of a sheep."
"Mom?"
"I thought you really and truly loved me, Onewhisker. I thought you would love and take pride in our kittens. You're a miserable excuse for a warrior, a mate, and especially a father! I pity the next she-cat you try to lure into your claws; filling her head with lies and deceiving her when she needs you most! Evil Clan cat, your kind is a disgrace to all cats! Three of our kits are dead because you didn't care! Did you ever care at all? I hope you die in the worst way possible, destruction and pain is all your kind know! Dirty, mindless, selfish Clan cat!"
"Mom!"
"What, Dark, what?" Smoke flashed her teeth at her son, and Dark hid further into his mother's soft tail, horrified by her outrage. He felt her body quaking with fury, a power he had no idea she was capable of. Upon seeing her son's terror, Smoke's expression relaxed slightly. The tension her in muscles eased, and her eyes expanded from the slits they previously were. "My son," she croaked.
Dark relaxed back against her flank. "Was that tom that we met earlier today really my father?" he asked, timidly. He didn't want to anger his mother again. Smoke had seemed so desperate when she talked to the tom, begging for Dark's entry into something called WindClan. Smoke had told him that he was the kit of a Clan cat who lived on the moor beyond the forest, and they had slipped out of their house that morning to meet him, the cat called Onewhisker.
Smoke let out another low growl. "Unfortunately, yes," she hissed. "Worst mistake I ever made in my worthless life, mating with him. I fell for every word he told me, about what a fabulous warrior he was, brave as a tiger. Claimed he saved his Clanmates from a great hunger by hauling a mountain of rabbits and birds back to them, chasing off a whole troop of foxes on his own, fought and killed a badger on his first day of training to save some kits...all if it, lies." She was silent for several moments, and Dark stayed still and and quiet. His little paws worked anxiously against the plush he and his mother were resting on.
"Dark, my son," she meowed after the long moments had passed.
    "Y-yes, mom?"
Smoke was looking down at him now, with an unknown expression in her eyes. Her tail wrapped more firmly around him. "If you do just one thing in your life for me, I'll be happy. Can you make a promise to me?"
Dark nodded hesitantly.
   "Hate them. Hate them with everything you've got."
"Who, mother?"
"The forest cats," Smoke looked away from Dark, out towards the trees. Dark followed her gaze as she continued. "Learn to fight. Learn to hunt. You don't need to join that band of cowards to be fierce and strong and respected like they claim. Don't lay around and become a fat house cat like me, be feared and a fighter. Be the survivor I know you are and your father refuses to recognize. Can you, will you, do that for me?"
Dark hesitated. A fighter? Feared? Respected? He was only three moons old! How could he do all that?
"Well, will you?"
Dark relaxed against Smoke once more. "I suppose I can. Just for you, mom."
"Very good, that's a good kit," At last, Dark felt his mother's tongue rasping against his head. Smoke took him into her paws as she began to wash him all over. "Begin practicing tomorrow. Once the housefolk leave, I want you to go outside and into Rhinestone's yard. Practice fighting with her kits."
"But Rhinestone doesn't want me playing with Frolic, Sweetie, and Pickle anymore," Dark protested as Smoke lapped at his warm belly. "She says I get too rough with them and cause too many arguments when we choose games, and Pickle accused me of hurting one of his ears once, when it was Sweetie who did it really, mom. Not to mention, Frolic whines too much, and cries for Rhinestone whenever he doesn't get his way, and he's afraid of practically everything-"
"Exactly," Smoke argued. "Rhinestone is raising a litter of weaklings. Frolic is a complainer and too easily frightened. Sweetie is spoiled and expects to be pampered every second she's awake, and Pickle is fat and slow-moving. They're going to grow up to be nothing but embarrassments. But not you, my little warrior," she purred. "They'll be perfect for your first components. A good, strong fighting cat must have good training resources."
Dark said nothing, mainly because his mother was right. Rhinestone's kits weren't exactly the most competent around. They were smaller and weaker than Dark, and he felt a small twinge of smug pride when he made this realization; he'd be able to beat all three of them easily. He saw them now, squealing to their mother and cowering behind her like trembling mice. He'd fight them in front of Rhinestone, too. Dark would ensure that she was afraid of him as badly as her little crybaby pipsqueaks were! "You're right, mom," he mewed as he began drifting off. "I'll show them, I'll show them all. The pesky little fleas won't know what hit them."
   "That's my little lion," Smoke purred as she nestled her son closer to her.
"That dumb, smelly Onewhisker will lose his mind with fear when he sees me the next time," Dark continued drowsily. "I'll be a huge, bulky, smart fighter while he's scrawny and old, and I'll claw him until his stupid pals wont be able to recognize him."
Smoke said nothing, but her purrs amplified as she resumed washing Dark, so eventually drifted into dreams of glory and battles. He stood among a crowd of shaking cats, all terrified of him, all bringing him gifts of food and bones in order to please him. Dark's paws were stained with crimson blood, all from those who had tried to defy him, and he puffed out his great chest as he stood above his onlookers, as they yowled his praise and honored his powerful strength with the mighty uplifting of inspired, yet fearful, voices that reached for the reddened sky.
~~~

  You know what I would absolutely love if it was done right? A Darktail super edition.

  No, not a novella like Mapleshade got that honestly didn’t cover enough ground for a great and well-loved villain. An honest-to-StarClan super edition.
  I see it like this: we start out with Darktail [we’ll simply call him Dark for now] as a kit living with Smoke. As stated in Shattered Sky, his siblings have all died, he is the only survivor of the litter. Smoke, while grieving, is still doing a decent job raising him. However, one night, she gets the idea to take Dark to his father, Onewhisker of WindClan, because she wants to ensure that her only remaining kitten survives into adulthood and makes himself something worthwhile, due has a constant worry that he will grow weak and die like his littermates did. Onewhisker may have left her, but perhaps he would accept their son. If Dark grew up as a Clan cat rather than a kittypet like her, perhaps he would grow to be fierce and strong instead of soft and pampered.
  As also stated in the same book, Onewhisker rejects Dark’s entry into WindClan, and Smoke turns on her former mate. After they leave, Smoke begins to grow more and more mentally unstable, flying into enraged rants about Clan cats and what horrific monsters they are, and how they all deserve to die or be put in their place. Dark grows up watching his mother have episodes of fury, with her also pitching lessons to him on how he should hate those cats in the woods and she presses him to challenge other young cats in their neighborhood, hoping that he will learn to fight one day. This leads to Dark spending his kithood and adolescence as a cruel bully with a violent streak.
  Not long before he reaches adulthood, Smoke dies for whatever reason, leaving Dark alone. He runs away from their housefolk and lives as a stray at first, roaming the streets in search for food and fights with other cats to prove his dominance. Dark already has quite the ego, and his strength and ferocity eventually catch the attention of a group of city cats who refer to themselves as BloodClan. They invite Dark to join them, but misinterpreting them as one of the forest clans, Dark starts a rivalry with them. BloodClan quickly sees him as a legitimate threat rather than a potential ally, so they make an attempt on his life, but Dark escapes.
  Now in the forest, Dark lays low and survives by moving around and teaching himself how to hunt. After a few moons of this, he soon discovers a patrol of Clan cats. Just as he is about to attack them, he overhears them discussing their daily activities and going-ons. After this, Dark begins to materialize his own plan to take over these groups of wild cats to fit a regime he felt was more proper. His mother had always told him about how only the strongest would survive and that was all that mattered, so why have something as foolish and moral-based like the Warrior Code? He also gives himself a Clan name to lower any suspicions: he dubs himself Darktail.
  He then begins to forms his own group of cats who agree with his way of thinking, telling them about the soft and cowardly cats known as the Clans, and how they should infiltrate them and set thing straight.
Add or comment whatever you like! This was just my idea, but I think a Darktail Super Edition would be excellent and have a lot of potentials if it was done correctly.
And yes, I hgave Smoke's handkerchief hearts :'D Because she's obviously a loving type

Description
  "Poor Smoke," Dark had overheard one of their housefolk say in a dismayed tone, after his mother had hissed and swatted at him with a furious pale paw when he had tried to stroke her. "She's been acting so angry and restless lately. Do you think she still misses her other kittens?"
The female had been just as confused. "Perhaps," she murmured. "It's unfortunate that the little specks died so soon after she had them, but it couldn't be helped where she gave birth while we had let her out, and bless our lucky stars that we found her before she could lose the last one. Besides, that was a couple of months ago. Cats can be moody sometimes, perhaps she just needs a rest from taking care of the one that did make it."
"I suppose," the male companion had answered. "But is she doesn't feel better within the next few days, we might need to consider taking her to the vet. She might be coming down with something, our poor kitty."
The housefolk had gone to their room long ago, leaving Dark and Smoke alone in the living room as the rain began. Now, the two of them were curled up together on the windowsill, watching the water streak down the glass like liquid worms and the garden turn muddy and slightly disarrayed. However, instead of Smoke grooming her young son with her tongue while softly telling him stories like she normally did before they retreated to their bed to sleep, the gray she-cat had her gaze locked on the garden. Dark saw no gentle compassion or longing for her lost kits on his mother's face; her blue eyes were hard and angry, her paws strained and stretched as though she wished she still had her absent claws so she could scratch something in her frustration. Dark lifted his head to look at her. Smoke was growling under her breath to herself.
"Stupid, lying, untrustworthy piece of dung," she snarled. "How dare he not only take in me, but his own kit, into his pathetic Clan? Unfaithful, scheming tom. I hope a dog tears him and his no-good wild cat buddies to shreds and feasts on their innards."
"Mom?" Dark squeaked, trying to get her attention.
"Too soft and delicate to be a warrior, he says!" Smoke continued to ramble, her paws still contorting desperately. "He's lucky that I didn't bite his throat out right then and there for saying that about his own son. Our son, Onewhisker! Our only surviving kit, and this is how you treat him? Like a hopeless scrap of fur? He could grow up to be twice the warrior you ever will be if you would let him in, rabbit-munching coward. He's got the brain of a sheep, that stupid Clan cat, the brain of a sheep."
"Mom?"
"I thought you really and truly loved me, Onewhisker. I thought you would love and take pride in our kittens. You're a miserable excuse for a warrior, a mate, and especially a father! I pity the next she-cat you try to lure into your claws; filling her head with lies and deceiving her when she needs you most! Evil Clan cat, your kind is a disgrace to all cats! Three of our kits are dead because you didn't care! Did you ever care at all? I hope you die in the worst way possible, destruction and pain is all your kind know! Dirty, mindless, selfish Clan cat!"
"Mom!"
"What, Dark, what?" Smoke flashed her teeth at her son, and Dark hid further into his mother's soft tail, horrified by her outrage. He felt her body quaking with fury, a power he had no idea she was capable of. Upon seeing her son's terror, Smoke's expression relaxed slightly. The tension her in muscles eased, and her eyes expanded from the slits they previously were. "My son," she croaked.
Dark relaxed back against her flank. "Was that tom that we met earlier today really my father?" he asked, timidly. He didn't want to anger his mother again. Smoke had seemed so desperate when she talked to the tom, begging for Dark's entry into something called WindClan. Smoke had told him that he was the kit of a Clan cat who lived on the moor beyond the forest, and they had slipped out of their house that morning to meet him, the cat called Onewhisker.
Smoke let out another low growl. "Unfortunately, yes," she hissed. "Worst mistake I ever made in my worthless life, mating with him. I fell for every word he told me, about what a fabulous warrior he was, brave as a tiger. Claimed he saved his Clanmates from a great hunger by hauling a mountain of rabbits and birds back to them, chasing off a whole troop of foxes on his own, fought and killed a badger on his first day of training to save some kits...all if it, lies." She was silent for several moments, and Dark stayed still and and quiet. His little paws worked anxiously against the plush he and his mother were resting on.
"Dark, my son," she meowed after the long moments had passed.
    "Y-yes, mom?"
Smoke was looking down at him now, with an unknown expression in her eyes. Her tail wrapped more firmly around him. "If you do just one thing in your life for me, I'll be happy. Can you make a promise to me?"
Dark nodded hesitantly.
   "Hate them. Hate them with everything you've got."
"Who, mother?"
"The forest cats," Smoke looked away from Dark, out towards the trees. Dark followed her gaze as she continued. "Learn to fight. Learn to hunt. You don't need to join that band of cowards to be fierce and strong and respected like they claim. Don't lay around and become a fat house cat like me, be feared and a fighter. Be the survivor I know you are and your father refuses to recognize. Can you, will you, do that for me?"
Dark hesitated. A fighter? Feared? Respected? He was only three moons old! How could he do all that?
"Well, will you?"
Dark relaxed against Smoke once more. "I suppose I can. Just for you, mom."
"Very good, that's a good kit," At last, Dark felt his mother's tongue rasping against his head. Smoke took him into her paws as she began to wash him all over. "Begin practicing tomorrow. Once the housefolk leave, I want you to go outside and into Rhinestone's yard. Practice fighting with her kits."
"But Rhinestone doesn't want me playing with Frolic, Sweetie, and Pickle anymore," Dark protested as Smoke lapped at his warm belly. "She says I get too rough with them and cause too many arguments when we choose games, and Pickle accused me of hurting one of his ears once, when it was Sweetie who did it really, mom. Not to mention, Frolic whines too much, and cries for Rhinestone whenever he doesn't get his way, and he's afraid of practically everything-"
"Exactly," Smoke argued. "Rhinestone is raising a litter of weaklings. Frolic is a complainer and too easily frightened. Sweetie is spoiled and expects to be pampered every second she's awake, and Pickle is fat and slow-moving. They're going to grow up to be nothing but embarrassments. But not you, my little warrior," she purred. "They'll be perfect for your first components. A good, strong fighting cat must have good training resources."
Dark said nothing, mainly because his mother was right. Rhinestone's kits weren't exactly the most competent around. They were smaller and weaker than Dark, and he felt a small twinge of smug pride when he made this realization; he'd be able to beat all three of them easily. He saw them now, squealing to their mother and cowering behind her like trembling mice. He'd fight them in front of Rhinestone, too. Dark would ensure that she was afraid of him as badly as her little crybaby pipsqueaks were! "You're right, mom," he mewed as he began drifting off. "I'll show them, I'll show them all. The pesky little fleas won't know what hit them."
   "That's my little lion," Smoke purred as she nestled her son closer to her.
"That dumb, smelly Onewhisker will lose his mind with fear when he sees me the next time," Dark continued drowsily. "I'll be a huge, bulky, smart fighter while he's scrawny and old, and I'll claw him until his stupid pals wont be able to recognize him."
Smoke said nothing, but her purrs amplified as she resumed washing Dark, so eventually drifted into dreams of glory and battles. He stood among a crowd of shaking cats, all terrified of him, all bringing him gifts of food and bones in order to please him. Dark's paws were stained with crimson blood, all from those who had tried to defy him, and he puffed out his great chest as he stood above his onlookers, as they yowled his praise and honored his powerful strength with the mighty uplifting of inspired, yet fearful, voices that reached for the reddened sky.
~~~

  You know what I would absolutely love if it was done right? A Darktail super edition.

  No, not a novella like Mapleshade got that honestly didn’t cover enough ground for a great and well-loved villain. An honest-to-StarClan super edition.
  I see it like this: we start out with Darktail [we’ll simply call him Dark for now] as a kit living with Smoke. As stated in Shattered Sky, his siblings have all died, he is the only survivor of the litter. Smoke, while grieving, is still doing a decent job raising him. However, one night, she gets the idea to take Dark to his father, Onewhisker of WindClan, because she wants to ensure that her only remaining kitten survives into adulthood and makes himself something worthwhile, due has a constant worry that he will grow weak and die like his littermates did. Onewhisker may have left her, but perhaps he would accept their son. If Dark grew up as a Clan cat rather than a kittypet like her, perhaps he would grow to be fierce and strong instead of soft and pampered.
  As also stated in the same book, Onewhisker rejects Dark’s entry into WindClan, and Smoke turns on her former mate. After they leave, Smoke begins to grow more and more mentally unstable, flying into enraged rants about Clan cats and what horrific monsters they are, and how they all deserve to die or be put in their place. Dark grows up watching his mother have episodes of fury, with her also pitching lessons to him on how he should hate those cats in the woods and she presses him to challenge other young cats in their neighborhood, hoping that he will learn to fight one day. This leads to Dark spending his kithood and adolescence as a cruel bully with a violent streak.
  Not long before he reaches adulthood, Smoke dies for whatever reason, leaving Dark alone. He runs away from their housefolk and lives as a stray at first, roaming the streets in search for food and fights with other cats to prove his dominance. Dark already has quite the ego, and his strength and ferocity eventually catch the attention of a group of city cats who refer to themselves as BloodClan. They invite Dark to join them, but misinterpreting them as one of the forest clans, Dark starts a rivalry with them. BloodClan quickly sees him as a legitimate threat rather than a potential ally, so they make an attempt on his life, but Dark escapes.
  Now in the forest, Dark lays low and survives by moving around and teaching himself how to hunt. After a few moons of this, he soon discovers a patrol of Clan cats. Just as he is about to attack them, he overhears them discussing their daily activities and going-ons. After this, Dark begins to materialize his own plan to take over these groups of wild cats to fit a regime he felt was more proper. His mother had always told him about how only the strongest would survive and that was all that mattered, so why have something as foolish and moral-based like the Warrior Code? He also gives himself a Clan name to lower any suspicions: he dubs himself Darktail.
  He then begins to forms his own group of cats who agree with his way of thinking, telling them about the soft and cowardly cats known as the Clans, and how they should infiltrate them and set thing straight.
Add or comment whatever you like! This was just my idea, but I think a Darktail Super Edition would be excellent and have a lot of potentials if it was done correctly.
And yes, I hgave Smoke's handkerchief hearts :'D Because she's obviously a loving type