I've had this idea for a while, although I'm not really sure why...
Chapter One: Dog-Foxes
Three small kits lay asleep on a mossy nest in the center of minute, shadowed cave. A tortoiseshell and white she-cat sat at front of it, swinging her head back and forth, as if looking for someone. She seemed to pick up a scent and stood up happily. The bushes surrounding the front of the cave quivered, revealing two cats: a big, black tom with green eyes and grey stripes, and a small tom, a little bigger than the kits sleeping in the cave, with amber eyes and a light brown coat. They were both carrying mice, squirrels, and rabbits in their teeth and their eyes were gleaming with pride.
"Jet!" She mewed cheerfully, as she stroked the lithe black tom's pelt with her tongue. She then turned her gaze on the brown cat, her light blue eyes softening.
The cat had no name yet; he seemed to not mind. In the brown cat's world, names meant everything. They described your personality, something important you did in your kithood, or what you looked like. The brown cat was a basic brown color; his eyes were only a dull shining amber. He had not done anything important with his life so far; his personality was a little dull. Of course, like most cats, he was fierce on the inside, and quite clever. He didn't want his parents to name him something stupid; that's why he was waiting so long for a name. He wanted something to fit.
In his parents' world, however, this was all a different story. They were raised by tall beings that stood on two feet, who had five long claws that stroked you, and who had no fur on them except sometimes on the top of their heads. They didn't live in caves or dens like the brown cat and his siblings did. No, they lived in tight,wooden enclosures with the beings, maybe sometimes with big creatures called dogs. The brown cat had not seen any of these things: dogs, weird tall furless things, or the wooden nests. The brown cat was born a long time after this age. His parents had escaped these oddities when they fell in love with each other. Apparently, they didn't want their kits to be raised with these creatures. They wanted their kits to be wild, free, to taste fresh-kill instead of the food they ate with the two-legged, furless upwalkers. So that's why they were in a cold, damp, and dark cave.
His mother coughed, driving him out of his thoughts. He realized that he was standing in the entrance to the cave, the dead squirrel in his mouth smelling tantalizingly sweet. He managed not to drool while he put it down into the makeshift fresh-kill pile in the middle of the cave. He set it down and traded it for a large mouse, leaving the rabbit for his mother or father.
Feeling the burning stares of his mother and father, he quickly picked the mouse and sprinted to the sleeping forms of his little siblings. He didn't want to wake them, so he ate slowly, while watching lovingly them with his amber eyes. One of them, a tortoiseshell-and white she-cat, who looked identical to her mother, rolled over and accidentally whacked her brother, a dark gray tom, in the face.
"Oh, Sky," the brown cat whispered, giggling. The dark gray tom rolled over, light green eyes flaring.
" 'Oh, Sky!' Oh, shut up!" He hissed, swatting a sheathed paw at the brown cat lazily. The brown cat jumped away playfully, but the gray cat just fell back to sleep.
"Whatever, Shade. You're no fun." He muttered, taking a chunk out of the mouse. Shade spat, waking up the other sleeping sibling, a frail auburn tabby she-cat, who was sleeping in the center of the three kits, for the most warmth.
"Eep!" she squealed, then squinted her eyes, swatted at the air, and went back to sleep.
"Alright, Twig," the brown cat whispered into his mouse, his eyes darting away from his siblings and his food for a moment. He had sensed something; something other than the prescence of cats. The moment had passed; he breathed a sigh of relief. This was the third time this had happened. He looked up at his mother and father. They too had paused their conversation for a second. They both looked nervous, with anxiety in their eyes and their fur standing on edge.
As soon as they started to ease back into a false state of confidence, the brown cat buried his unfinished mouse, for he was not hungry any more, and pretended to sleep. When his parents saw that their kits had drifted off, and out of earshot, they started to whisper in worried voices. This was what he heard:
His mother: "Jet, we can't let this keep happening. We need to leave this place. That's the third time those...those... dog-foxes have come close to this cave. They were much closer than last time, too. We need to leave, Jet."
His father: "I know, Lacey, but we can't move the kits yet. You know that. And even when they reach four moons, Twig probably won't be able to make it. Those animals are getting dangerously close, Lacey, but if we train the kittens, we might be able to fend for ourselves."
Mother: "Don't fantasize, Jet. I haven't even seen a dog-fox, but I know by their growls, barks and the way they crash through the undergrowth that they arebig. We can't fight them, no matter how hard we train. There are also a lot of them, Jet. Face the facts. We need to leave. Soon."
Oooh... yeah, there is a point to the fact that "the brown cat" doesn't have a name yet. The dog-foxes they are talking about, if you didn't notice, are wolves. Just saying.