Hello people! This is me, the first Cookie, Mars! This is actually my first fanfiction I took seriously. So, please not too harsh reviews ok?
The story 'The rise' is kind of a Warrior Cats fanfiction (because I always planned on doing that) about a cat named 'Bloodclaw'. This is an alternate timeline story, one where the whole original story of 'Warrior Cats' does not exist. There will be the same clans, but other leaders and members in general. Some might have the same name or characteristics, but this will be because of me lacking motivation to make up the names and stuff. I will credit , the beginning of the story occurs in another forest with different clans. Now, enjoy!
Prologue
It was during leafbare as the sound of a yowling she-cat echoed through the forest. She laid in a mossy nest, which was not more than a hole filled with moss, and was hidden by bushes. The grey she-cat was struggling, feeling strong kicks of her kits. They would be born tonight and she knew it.
A pitchblack tom bursted through the bushes in front of her, a brown tabby following him. "What's wrong with her?" the black tom mewed to the tabby. His voice was higher, he was nervous and worried of the birth-giving she-cat. The tabby nodded shortly. "Don't worry about her, she will be fine." He replied roughly and disappeard through the bushes again. The she-cat's first veins stopped, she gasped for air.
"Nightstar"
she gasped, looking up at the black tom. "I can't take this much longer, it hurts so-" her sentence was left uncomplete as the next veins occured. Not only pain, but also adrenaline rushed through her body. The tabby came back through the bushes and dropped a wooden stick in front of her. "Bite down on it and push!" he intructed her and she did how she was told. Painful moans escaped her throat and yowls too. Nightstar, how the she-cat called the black tom, wandered restless in front of her, never letting her out of his sight. The tabby was standing at the she-cats side. He put one of his paws on her swollen belly.
Time passed, the veins got longer and came faster, they were more painful and much stronger. Finally, the she-cat was able to push hard enough for one of the kits to be was a grey tabby tom. The brown tabby lifted the kit up and placed it in front of the restless black tom. "Lick it dry, lick it until it takes the first breath." He told him while hurrying back to the she-cat's side. Nightstar did so and soon, the small kit took his first breathes. He looked up at the brown tom, trying to keep the small kit warm. Another painful yowl came from the grey she-cat as another kit was born. This time, it was a very dark grey tom with a white muzzle. This time, the brown tabby himself licked the kit until it was breathing, then brought it closer to his mother's belly. Nightstar followed his example and did the same with the rather light grey tabby. The grey she-cat could take a small break and glanced to her kits. the two looked healthy, and for a moment, she could believe it was over. But of course, it wasn't.
After just a few seconds, a sudden wave of pain rushed through her. She moaned in pain and pressed her whole body on the ground. She was hissing in frustration as she pushed again and a small, black she-cat came out. Exhausted, she turned around and reached to it before the other two toms could react or do it. The she-cat licked it clean happily and pushed it towards her belly. All three of her kits were looking for their mother's dug, the warm milk every kit needed. They found it with some help of the surrounding cats. They suckled happily while their mother was panting heavily. Her eyelids were heavy and she couldn't focus her gaze anymore. While the two toms were talking about something, she fell asleep. Nightstar looked down, a proud father of three beautiful and healthy kits. That's when he noticed the scar the black she-cat had on her front paw. It was very unusual for a newly born kit to have such a wide scar, and nightstar turned his head to the brown tabby. "What do you think is this scar about?" He asked, suddenly noticing the shocked, or rather surprised look on his face.
"It's an omen. An omen of starclan."