Disclaimer: I own only what was not in the books. The names Sally Bones and Tam belong to S.F Said.
Dedicated to: HPFan2937, aka-EveningSongEnchantment. Thanks for all your support. This winter would have been a lot harder without you. I loved talking to you and wish you luck where ever you may be and where ever you may go. So, good bye and good luck; I'll always consider you a friend.
Chapter 1: Into the Alleys
"T'was th' twisted alleys en' streets o' the city that th' Bands a' Cats chose as their 'ome, knowin' they wouldn't be pursued there…" the voice of a storyteller drifted out of a small cardboard box, into the cold night air.
Flick, trudging past, rolled her eyes. What some cats would do for food! Hunting in the city was easy, if you knew the right place to look. That cat was probably just lazy.
Lots of two-legs meant lots of trash, and with trash came rats and mice that ran all year round. If a two-leg meat or fish nest (butcher shop of fish store) was busy enough, it was nothing to sneak in a grab some food. And that cat was old, but even he could manage to look pathetic enough for an old lady to feed him, the easiest trick in the book.
She sighed, ignoring a Monster that zoomed by on the busy streets as she trudged through the now brown slush that had once been snow. The Gang of the Streetrats' (a/n- name from my other fic, I'm going to use a lot of those terms in this story) territory was large, as were the other three main Gangs of the city, the Sewermice, Mudwalkers, and Dirtrollers.
She paused for a moment, amidst a crowd of two-legs as she waited for the pole on the other side of the street to light up. That was one of the Rules of the Street. Never cross anywhere but at a two-leg crossing place, and make sure two-legs were with you. The Monsters would stop for a person, but not a cat.
As the crowd moved across the street, she followed, and, as she dodged feet, she decided to head toward the park. Although the ducks geese, and golden fish wouldn't be back until the spring, the pigeons were still fed regularly and the squirrels never stopped running.
She crossed another street with the never-ending flow of two-legs and Monsters and was about to cross a third when a large black and white tom stepped in front of her. "Sally Bones (a/n-again, from my other story, though originally from Varjak Paw. I like that name) is wishen' to see ye."
Flick sighed. The leader of her Gang had a good-natured externally, but on the inside, she was as mean as a dog to anyone who didn't agree with her.
"Are ye t' busy t' visit yer leader, Flick?" the tom growled threateningly, seeing her hesitation.
Flick sighed and mewed sarcastically, "I'm com'in yer royalness. 'Old yer 'orses."
She followed him through several back alleys, across three streets, and into a final large alley. As she walked past, she saw two queens fighting viciously over a scrap of meat, and the stiff body of a dead cat, half buried in snow. Most of the others were asleep or out for they night. It was a familiar sight to a city cat.
At the back of the alley, amidst the trash bags, dumpsters, and boxes was a fence. Jumping nimbly from bag to bag, and trotting with perfect balance across the dumpster edge, she followed the tom as he leapt over the fence. On the other side was the courtyard of the four buildings around them. The Gang leaders inner circle of cats were scattered all around.
"She's in there," the tom growled, flicking his tail at a cardboard box before hurrying over to join his friends.
Flick took a deep breath and gave her chest fur a quick lick. You had to be careful with Sally Bones. She was dangerous, and you had to deal with her depending on her mood.
At last she stepped up and entered. As he eyes adjusted to the light, she heard a silky smooth voice mew, "Ah, Flick, you've made it." She was the only cat Flick knew that could talk somewhat respectably.
"Yes'mum. I wouldn't miss it."
"Good," the other cat purred, "come, have a seat."
Flick sighed, this meant a long visit, and settled down beside the skinny white she-cat.
"You're a loner, correct? Like your mother?"
Flick nodded. A loner meant she was a cat that was part of a Gang but, unlike most gang cats, she didn't hang out in one of the many groups scattered all across the Gang land. She lived by herself and survived by herself.
"Thistle was a good friend to me," the she-cat mewed, and Flick suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Only a'cause she didn't want you's to 'urt 'er friends or nothin', she thought.
"If ye don't mind mum, why didja request me?" she asked bluntly. Sally Bones never spoke to someone without a reason.
The she-cat purred. "You know me well, for a loner," she mewed and again Flick suppressed the urge make a face.
"I was wondering if you would check out the small group of cats that live in the dump just inside our territory. Not a Gang, just one of the smaller groups. My sister leads them, and I haven't heard from her for awhile." Flick was surprised to hear a note of concern in her voice. Perhaps she wasn't so heartless after all.
"I'd be honored mum. I'll leave right away," she answered, dipping her head respectfully.
The white she-cat nodded. "Her name is Tam. (a/n-again, from Varjak Paw) She's a brown tabby."
Flick nodded, and her leader dismissed her with a flip of her tail, suddenly loosing interest. Flick left.
As she made her way over the fence and out of the alley, she thought about her journey. She knew her territory like the back of her paw. The dump was beside Flash's place, just inside the eastern border. She'd have to watch out for roamers, though. Roamers were cats who lived alone, or with two or three others, and avoided Gang business and fights. They were fiercely protective of what little land they had, and two patrolled three blocks right next to where she was going.
As she left the alley, she noticed that the two queens had stopped fighting, and the tabby had walked away with the meat. The tortoiseshell had gotten only a few scratches for her pain, and returned to her kit empty-pawed.
Flick glanced at the moon. There was still an hour of night left and there was only one block left to the twoleg dump. She decided to stop in the park and get some food. She looked around for a cross walk, but seeing no Monsters she decided to cross where she was.
As she splashed through puddles of slush, she heard a terrified screech. She paused, on paw raised out of the dirty water and listened. There it was again. The unmistakable sound of a cat in trouble. Splashing out of the puddle, she hurried along the sidewalk and into a back alley, following her ears.
As she turned a corner, she gasped. Two rough looking Roamers had a small white, fluffy, Pet-kitty cornered. The little animal trembled and hissed fearfully, her collar flickering in the moonlight. With a screech, these Roamers were on her gang's territory, Flick launched herself at the two intruders.
Bowling into one, she sent him stumbling back into a wall as she whipped around to strike out at the other. Her opponent, not guessing her speed, was unprepared for her heavy paws slamming into his head. He yowled and stumbled back as she twisted to get her back against the wall.
Snarling, the two toms scrambled to their paws. "Yer gonna pay fer that un missy," one hissed angrily. The other sneered. "Yer fur'll be a nice addition to our nests pretty"
Flick ignored these taunts. Many cats tried to unsettle their opponents with harsh words, but she found silence did the job better. Plus, it was a waste of breath.
With the lightning speed that had won her the name Flick, she lashed out, claws glinting in the moonlight. One paw caught the first tom in the head as her back paw lashed out to slam into the second cats stomach as he reared onto his back legs. She twisted in the air, so she landed with her back to the opposite wall.
The two toms, now thoroughly cut up, glared and lunged, determined to take the offensive this time. Flick backed up as far as she could, snarling and lashing out with both paws. Even so, sheer weight got the best of her and she was forced to the ground. She made herself not to panic as she was pinned to the hard cement, but when teeth met teeth through her shoulder and pain lanced from her leg to her tail, she couldn't suppress a yowl.
Suddenly, the weight was gone and a screech split the night air. One tom was stumbling back, the Pet-kitty latched to his back, eyes wide in shock at what she had done. Flick wasted no time. She turned to the other tom, who was staring dumbly at his partner, and pinned him to the ground, sinking her fangs into his shoulder. As he yowled, she withdrew, and closed in for the killing blow.
"No!" a voice yowled. Flick whipped around. The Pet-kitty's opponent was gone and she was staring at Flick in horror.
Using her brief distraction, the tom wriggled out from under her and vanished after his friend.
"Now see whatchya did?" Flick hissed savagly, fur bristling. The Pet-kitty flinched, but held her gaze. "You can't kill him," she mewed, voice shaking. "That would be murder."
Flick glared. "D' ye know why I'm alive today? 'cause all m' enemies are dead. S'how the street works, though you wouldn' know."
The Pet-kitty didn't answer, so Flick, leading the way out of the alley, mewed gruffly, "What're ye doin' 'ere? Who are ye?"
"My name is Sprinkle. I'm lost."
Flick snorted. "Sprinkle? Sheesh, tha's a bad name. I'm gonna call ye… Frost. So, Frost, do ye know any thing special 'bout yer street? If'n ye do, I c'n prolly find it."
Sprinkle shook her head. "There was nothing remarkable about my street. And my name is Sprinkle."
Flick shrugged. "Firs' off, yer new name be Frost. Second, if'n ye don't know anythin' bout yer home, yer a street cat now. I'd suggest ye take off the collar, seein as there are no tags on it."
Frost shrugged and mewed, "Could you help please? I can't get it off myself. How does street life work."
As Flick moved over and grasped the collar in her teeth, she mewed, "Ye don't sound to upset, leavin' the easy life." She pulled away from Frost as the she-cat backed up, answering; "I didn't much like my indoor life. It was boring and all my human did was brush me and pet me. It was quite annoying. I snuck outside this morning and was chased by a dog, then got lost. I'll probably stumble along my home sometime, but for now I'll have some adventures."
Flick rolled her eyes. By this time tomorow, Frost would wish she had never set paw outside of her home. Pet-kitties were not cut out for street life. But for now, she may as well be informed.
"Well, ye see, at the mo' there are ony' four big gangs, the Streetrats, mine, the Sewermice, though they usually run th' unerground, the Dirtrollers, they run most o' th' parks, though every gangs got a' least one, and the Mudwalkers, who 'ave a series of allies. The Warf Cats are sorta a gang, though their boundries ne'er change. They live in the Cove and patrol the docks. No organizashin', no leader, nothin'. Nastier, meaner, tougher cats ye'll ne'er meet."
She fell back with a grunt, the collar hanging from her jaws. Spitting it on the ground, she started forward and Frost followed. "Then there's loners like meself who belong to a gang, but keep to 'emselves. Ye see, most gang cats live on a gang territory in groups, but loners don't. Though they're still part of a gang they fend fer 'emselves. Roamer, on th' o'er paw, are part o' no gang. They have little teeny territories and live in groups of two or three or alone. Tha's who trapped you in th' alley."
The two cats were now a few blocks from the offending alley. The dump was just around the corner. "My advice; find yerself a gang. Head back the ways we come and keep goin'. A Streetrat cat'll find ye."
Frost blinked. "I'm coming with you."
Flick snorted. "No ye ain't. I travel alone."
She trotted away.
Frost followed.
Whipping around so that Frost had to draw back to keep from hitting her, Flick snapped, "I travel alone! I don't kit-sit lost Pet-kitties. Now go!" Wheeling around she stalked off and it was a moment before she realized she was being followed.
She sighed, but didn't look back. It looked like she had caught herself a partner, whether she like it or not.
The Clan cats will play a part in this soon, I'm just introducing street life. Even so, she won't meet a Clan cat for a while. This doesn't take place in Firestar's two-leg place, it takes place in a city. Any questions about the gang organization or anthing, just ask (when you review -wink wink-). PLEASE review. PLEASE! The next chapter will get into the plot.
