One-shot entitled "Dedicated to the Warrior Code". Enjoy!
Sunlight streamed down from the forest canopy, making the early morning dew on the grass and ferns sparkle like stars. The patch of ferns quivered before a curious head poked out from between the stalks. Wide blue eyes blinked as they peered around, as if making sure nothing else was there to hurt them. Cautiously, a paw was placed before the eyes, then another, then another… Soon enough, the eyes belonged to a body, a tiny, ginger kitten with a fluffy tail and paws no bigger than a beetle. The fern it just emerged from appeared goliath compared to the young feline.
Paws pattered over the forest floor like rain as the kit began to walk around, its chest puffed out in triumph at its ability to get away from its home. It's so big out here! Cerulean eyes brightened considerably when they saw a small pile of oak leaves tremble. The little warrior attempted to mimic what it had seen from its elders and fell into a crouch, it's fluffy tail sticking up straight as a tree. The silent pawsteps approached the pile, body trembling with anticipation. Finally, the kitten leapt, landing on the pile. A small rodent darted out before the paws landed, and the ginger kit gave chase.
The mouse darted to and fro, the kitten skittering after it. It quickly went into a large hole, and the kit ran after it into the dark tunnel. It tripped over a small dip in the ground, tumbling into sharp metal. An audible snap! was heard, and the kitten screamed. The fox trap closed so fast the kit couldn't react, and it could only yowl and cry as it felt its scruff be torn and ripped. Every movement felt like the sharpest of claws, making the kit cry even more. The kitten stopped when it suddenly heard a noise in the back of the tunnel.
Thin, scrawny, russet fur slunk out of the depths, in its yellowed jaws the mouse the kit had been chasing. It growled and dropped the dead rodent, approaching the fear-strucken and helpless kitten. The ginger kit started to panic, crying and screaming at the top of its little lungs for someone, anyone, to save it. A flash of silver appeared at the entrance to the den, fur scarred and lips pulled back in a snarl. It took one look at the kit before disappearing from where it came from, and at that moment, the russet fur attacked.
The kitten continued to yowl as Pain fastened itself on its soft underbelly and the sharp, silver claws continued to dig into its scruff. Ginger tufts became russet, fur became viscera, and those once bright, curious cerulean eyes became dull and slate.