Crunch, crunch!
Rustle.
Screech!
Creak!
"Get back here, kitties!" A voice yowled.
"No, Maul! Blood told us you aren't our mother!" Another screamed.
The shadows that were blurs ran to the moor. Moonlight now shone on them. Five kits and a dog sped across the moor. "Help!" The tallest kit yowled. Six cats, a patrol, were now joining the parade.
"Why are you trespassing on our territory?" Asked one.
"Back off, dumbos!" Said Maul, the dog. The patrol's chins hit the ground as Maul chased the kits. They came to a river. "Get in!" Said the fattest kit. They swam in. Another patrol saw the chase, and helped the kits onto land. "Get away, dog!" Said one member of the patrol.
"Fine, stupid cats! One day, you will be haunted by my voice!" Said Maul. The patrol growled in rage and shock. They turned to see the kits, knocked out. They dragged the kits to the unfamiliar rogue territory.
"Don't tell anyone." Said the same member of that patrol.
"Yes, Blueoak!" Said another.
They walked off, leaving the kits.
Never did they think those kits will help the clans. Never they thought that they will be teased. Never they thought of the kits spilling blood, hungry for another creature's.
Run.