Warrior Songs
Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors or the song "Livin on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi.
Dustpelt looked at his beautiful mate, Ferncloud, and how lean she was, and how the kits looked starved to death.
Once upon a time, Not so long ago,
The golden tom nuzzled his beautiful she-cat's coat. She was shivering, and her stomach was growling in hunger. He walked out of the nursery, and to the fresh kill pile. He picked out a scrawny squirrel for Ferncloud, and braught it into the nursery.
"Dustpelt, I've already eaten," she mewed, pushing the squirrel back to him.
"Take it as my meal. I don't need it," he mewed, his ribs showing through his golden pelt.
Tommy used to work on the docks,
Union's been on strike, He's down on his luck,
It's tough, so tough.
Gina works the diner all day,
Workin' for her man, she brings home her pay,
For love-for love,
She says we gotta hold on to what we got,
It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not,
We got each other, and that's alot for love,
We'll give it a shot,
Ferncloud stared lovingly at her mate. True love shone in her crystal blue eyes, as she silently thanked Dustpelt for giving up his only meal as he had done for the past three days.
Whooah, half way there,
Livin' on a prayer,
Take my hand, and we'll make it I swear,
Livin' on a prayer
A cold wind ruffled the fur of Ferncloud and her kits the next evening. Dustpelt, who hadn't ate anything for a week, his ribs were beginning to show. Ferncloud was getting well fed, and he was happy, so he went and picked out a scrawny water vole. Even though it was stringy, he was happy. He had finally had food!
Tommy's got his six string in hock,
Now he's holding on to what he used to make talk
It's tough-so tough
Gina dreams of running away,
When she crys in the night,
Tommy whispers, baby it's okay-someday
Woke in the nursery to find Ferncloud sleeping, her fur thick with it's old sheen, and her milk plentyful.
We gotta hold on, to what we got,
It doesn't make a difference if we make it
or not,
We got each other,
and that's alot for love,
We'll give it a shot
Ferncloud stared at her mate, and looked at his fur, clinging to his ribs, she couldn't help but shed a tear, her mate was starving for her.
Whooah, halfway there,
Whooah, livin on a prayer,
Take my hand and we'll make it I swear,
Whooah, Livin on a prayer
Ferncloud groomed her kits, and watched Dustpelt walk out of the nursery to get thier meal.
We've gotta hold on, Ready or not,
We live for the fight when it's all that you got
Dustpelt set her meal in front of her, and she frowned.
"You take it," mewed Ferncloud.
"But I've already eaten," mewed Dustpelt. Ferncloud smiled, and pushed the scrawny squirrel towards him.
Whooah, Halfway there
Whooah, livin on a prayer
Take my hand, and we'll make it-i swear,
Whooah livin on a prayer.
Dustpelt smiled, as he remembered that his mate did what he did for her, give up his meals, for her to eat, and Dustpelt was happy.
Strange ending, I know. I couldn't figure out how to end it. I shall do Darkstripe's banishment next, because the next song is Wanted Dead or Alive. I know there are better cats for that, but I have an idea for Tigerclaw.