Please review or we won't write anymore.
Like Erin Hunter, there are multiple authors involved in the making of this story, all under this username (This is The Tacochickenwings writing this. I have another username, which is, well...The Tacochickenwings! HI! I'm one of the authors under this name!)
Prologue
She looked franticly around for a bush to hide her baby in. She dashed around knowing by the close sound of the dogs barking her time was limited, she carefully tucked her baby in tall grass and ran. She ran faster and faster until she thought she was safe then a loud boom and all went dark.
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Fur ruffled, the white she-cat with the long, fly-away fur made another lightning-fast lap across the clearing of the Riverclan camp.
"MY KITS! MY KITS!" she wailed, waking every single Riverclan cat (if they weren't already awake, that is.).
"Morningdew, calm down…!" hissed a young male cat with fox red fur and black paws. He looked weary and out of breath, having been as desperate in the search as Morningdew, but retaining calmness unlike she.
"YOU WOULDN'T BE CALM IF THESE WERE YOUR KITS, SO SHUT UP AND KEEP LOOKING, FLAMEFUR!" bellowed Morningdew, towering over the young male. He cowered momentarily and slipped away again, avoiding the near-mocking gazes of those who had been loitering during the search who had seen the pathetic sight of a strong warrior getting scared off by a nursing queen.
"WHAT ARE YOU LOT DOING! GET SEARCHING! MOVE IT, MOVE IT, YOU USELESS BAGS OF FUR!" Morningdew scolded loudly, rapidly advancing on the group of loiterers. If they had found Flamefur's predicament amusing, well, it sure wasn't funny now seeing as they were in the exact same situation he had found himself in.
"Flamefur…! Flamefur…come here…" whispered a newly-made warrior, a lanky tom of tan-colored pelt scattered with black spots. He was bent over a clump of tall grass.
"What do you want now, Cheetafoot? As if I haven't had enough, now YOU'RE bothering me with all these usleless distractions! What have you found now, eh? Is it another bird?" Flamefur meowed sarcastically, looking twice as harassed as he had before.
"I thought we could use that bird as freshkill!" Cheetafoot spat in defense.
"But nevermind that! Would you just get over here, Flamefur? This is urgent, I swear it!"
With a groan, Flamefur plodded through the tall grass to Cheetafoot.
"This had better be VERY important… Mornindew will have our tails if she finds that we're looking around at something other than her kits!"
Cheetafoot nudged a patch of grass to the side using both his front paw and nose.
"Look…!"
Laying in the clump of grass, eyes shut tightly as its tiny pink mouth opened with hardly audible squeaks, was a tiny fox kit. A newborn, it seemed.
Flamefur let out a snort. Cheetafoot searched his companion's face for some sort of emotion, but found none…for a moment. But then laughter filled Flamefur's dark eyes, and he burst out in a chorus of mad chuckles. When he turned to face Cheetafoot, the laughter was gone and replaced with fury.
"WHO CARES? I HAVE BEEN LISTENING TO MORNINGDEW SHRIEKING ON AND ON ABOUT THOSE STUPID KITS OF HERS ALL MORNING LONG, AND THEN YOU SHOW ME SOME BABY…BABY FOX, OR WHATEVER THAT UGLY THING IS!" Flamefur screamed, his whiskers quivering.
Cheetafoot cringed momentarily, but recovered quickly. He had to be somewhat sympathetic. After all, Morningdew had appointed Flamefur head of the search party. Flamefur was known by all four clans for his amazing sense of smell.
"Flamefur, calm down… But hear me out! This baby fox, it's…" Cheetafoot faltered. What did he even want to do with this baby fox?
"Idiot!" Flamefur cuffed Cheetafoot on the ear and started away…and crashed straight into Morningdew.
"M-Morningdew!" he gasped.
Morningdew stared down at Flamefur, eyes cold as steel.
"What…are…you doing…" she said in a low, scary tone.
"It's his fault," Flamefur said quickly, jerking his head at Cheetafoot and slinking quickly away from Morningdew.
"Cheetafoot, you fool, what have you done?" Morningdew inquired sharply, though not knowing anything about the present situation. All she figured was that something had impaired the search, and it had been Cheetafoot's fault.
Highly intimidated, Cheetafoot uttered a few guttural sounds before managing to speak clearly.
"M-Morningdew, sir – er…ma'am… T-there's an abandoned…baby…er…fox kit…" he squeaked, stepping quickly to the side to reveal the lone infant.
Stiffly, her tail up, Morningdew stalked to the helpless creature and glared down at it. Cheetafoot crouched, quivering. Would she try to hurt it?
But suddenly, Morningdew's eyes softened greatly. Cheetafoot relaxed, but was left confused.
"Morningdew?" he said softly.
"It's just a baby…" Morningdew whispered, more to herself than to Cheetafoot.
"Erm…yes, ma'am."
Morningdew lifted her head quickly and looked at Cheetafoot, a strange, determined light in her eyes.
"We can't leave it here," she said abruptly.
"Umm…" Cheetafoot's mind was blank. But then he saw what Morningdew was proposing. He had to take a stand.
"Morningdew, no! We can't! We can't take a baby fox back to camp! What if it has diseases? We had a hard time with sickness last winter. We can't have that again, not with the clan's kit shortage…!" he mewed desperately.
"What else do you propose we do? Leave it here?"
"Well…well…w-what else can we do?"
Mornindew turned back to the fox, flicking her tail scornfully in Cheetafoot's face. She promptly grabbed it by the scruff and began to stalk back in the direction of camp.
"Morningdew! What about your kits?" Cheetafoot cried, following her.
"Flamefoot is on the case. I will resume my own personal searching as soon as the matter of this fox kit is settled."
Cheetafoot knew he had to put some reason into her mind.
"MORNINGDEW, THIS IS INSANE!" he cried.
"And that's just how life is."
And Morningdew was gone, through the entrance of camp, the fox kit in tow.
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