Author's Note: This will be a rather short fanfiction detailing an important moment in history for the three Clans in a roleplay I've been working on with some friends. It's a pretty unique, semi-literate experience, and I encourage everyone to join. We're pretty low on members and activity right now, but it's hard to get these things off the ground, you know? The reason this is being written is to provide some insights into the lore and hopefully add some life to the site.

With all that said, the link to the site will be on my profile.

And here is the beginning of the story.

Enjoy.

~Leaf


Hot, dry wind raked across Dust's back as he trotted across the parched soil to the other side of camp. It was a scorching hot day, one of a long line of such days in the season the older cats referred to simply as dry-soil. It was the only season the kitten knew, as he was too young at the time to recall the cooler, kinder season he was born into. He had heard of the different times of year, but really how different could they be?

The heat was constant. Anyone who lived in the Barrens simply had to get over that aspect of life, otherwise nothing would get done. Still, Dust couldn't help but wish for some shade. What little there was of it was cast by the scraggly, long-dead bramble clumps that served as his family's dens and shelter. He spotted his mother, father, and many of the older cats he had grown up with curled up as close as they dared get to the prickly bushes, desperately trying to dodge the sun as they rested and waited for dusk.

But Dust was young. Energy prickled at his paws and youth granted him endurance. He was too antsy to join his parents, not that he would even be able to squeeze himself into a spot anyway.

His stumpy tail stuck up straight as he spotted a loose bit of dead vegetation spiraling overhead, black against the shocking blue sky above. Yellow eyes tracking it diligently, he followed its dizzying ascent until it disappeared into the fiery eye of the sun. The sight of it made his eyes smart horribly, and he crouched down to blink the sharp stabs of pain away before he became aware of pawsteps approaching from his right.

"Dust!" He sprang sideways just in time to avoid the grasping paws of his sister, Poppy. Her whiskers quivered with amusement as she jumped at him again. This time he didn't avoid her, and they fell in a playful heap of flailing paws and indignant squeaks.

Their little bout lasted until Poppy got ahold of his ear. She had such sharp teeth!

"Poppy! Stop! I told you not to do that!" He cried out shrilly.

After giving his ear one last gnaw, Poppy reluctantly let him go.

"Am I bleeding?" He rolled away and pawed at his ear, examining the fur closely for any sign of the red liquid.

"Bleeding?" Dust froze at the scornful meow that carried across camp. He recognized the voice and felt a stab of anxiety. He should have known he wouldn't be able to have the camp to himself for long.

"I would be afraid to show my face if I let my little sister beat me up like that." The speaker was a swarthy gray tabby tom named Badger. He was flanked on either side by his two siblings, Holly and Blackstorm, who honed in on the pair of smaller cats with gleaming eyes. Dust kept his head bowed as they sauntered slowly over. He wasn't overly fond of any of the older kits; they tended to play a bit rough, and with two moons' growth on Dust and his sister they had an unfair advantage in any game they might play.

"Yeah, but you don't have a little sister, now do you?" Holly muttered dangerously to her brother, keeping her voice low so that Dust could barely hear her.

Badger couldn't see her venomous look, but he clearly sensed he was treading in perilous territory, because he grumbled, "No, I don't."

"I'm not little!" Poppy responded. Her tiny pink nose lifted as her muzzle creased and she bared her teeth in an attempt at ferocity. "I'm fierce!"

"You can be little and fierce, you know." Holly purred, tail curling at the sight.

"She's too small to do any real damage. Dust always babies her." Badger sniffed. "It's not good to lie to others. He should feel ashamed."

"Isn't that what Talon said to you when you lied about trying to hide the fresh moss so you could use it to play moss-ball?" Blackstorm put forth meekly.

"Shut up! That wasn't me!" Badger snapped, although his tail began to droop.

"Dust is too sweet to lie. Unlike some other furballs I know." Holly sniffed, green eyes sparkling with laughter. Holly went back and forth from scary to sweet so fast… it was alarming.

Dust knew that they were just ribbing Badger, but it stung a little to be the weakest kit in the family. There was Hazel's new litter, but they had hardly opened their eyes. Plus, Hazel was a member of the Clawborne family, not the Lynx-Barrens like Dust and the other four. He was still a little foggy on the details, but somehow the Clawbornes always felt separate from everyone else, despite sharing a living space.

"What do you guys want to play today?" Poppy asked, tail waving as she bounced up to Badger. Unlike Dust, she never hesitated to approach the older kits. Or anyone, for that matter. Sometimes he wished she wouldn't, because it constantly felt like he was torn between his two primary urges: to keep Poppy safe and to avoid being drawn into the rough-and-tumble activities that Badger seemed so keen to lead them into.

"We could play War." Holly suggested.

"You can't play War with an uneven amount of cats." Blackstorm objected.

"Dust doesn't really count as an extra cat." Badger said with a shrug. "But the adults don't like it when we play that game, remember?"

"Uncle Scorchy said that they used to play it all the time as kits." Holly grumbled, scuffing the loose soil with one paw. "I don't see why they would want to keep us from playing it."

"It reminds them of bad times." Dust mumbled, not looking at the other cats. He expected them to ignore him like they always did when he spoke, but Badger's amber gaze snapped to him.

"What did you say?"

Now everyone was looking at the little brown tabby with interest. Hunkering down low and curling his tail over his paws, Dust responded with an unsteady voice, "I-I said it reminds them of bad times."

"Bad times? What bad times?" Holly asked, sounding confused.

"Before we were born… the war with the Tiger Family, remember? Our parents all fought together to keep their territory from that big family." Dust said, looking from one kit to another with puzzlement. Seeing their bewilderment, he began to realize that maybe he was the only one who listened in whenever the adults were talking. Still, he thought he remembered his mother telling he and Poppy about it awhile back…

"Oh, I remember Fern mentioning that. It was just a bedtime story." Poppy piped up.

"No, it wasn't. It really happened. The adults talk about it all the time." Dust said firmly. "Go ask if you don't believe me."

Almost before the words were out of his mouth, Poppy was racing for their parents. Dust kept his head bowed and followed her. Even from a distance he could tell that his mother was slightly alarmed when Poppy began loudly asking her question.

"Well, yes. But that was a long time ago, not something for you little ones to worry about." She answered quickly. A few heads rose up around her, some with disapproving expressions. Nobody liked it when kits interrupted resting time.

"So there won't be another war then? Why won't you let us play War? Dust says it's because it reminds you of bad times. Is that true?" Dust sometimes wished he could stuff Poppy's mouth full of moss to keep her from talking.

"War is a disgusting game. All it is is senseless fighting." Breeze, one of Dust's mother's siblings, sniffed loudly. She was always a bit of a prude, and frankly a bit weird. Dust didn't like it when he and Poppy were left in her care. She never let them do anything. Sometimes he wondered how his cousins had survived kithood with her as a mother.

"It's a fun game!" Badger protested.

"Nonsense!" Breeze began to bristle.

"It's not a good game for kits to be playing. You do as we say." Fern said sternly. Her gaze lingered on Badger as she said this.

"But why can't we play it?" Whined Holly, her claws tearing rebelliously at the earth. "You never told us why."

"Because real war isn't a game, and I don't want you all thinking that it is." Fern said quietly, cutting off Breeze's clipped response of, "Because we said so!"

"Fern… they're kits. Let them play their games." Gray, Dust's grandfather, interjected gently. "They don't understand what war is, and they don't have to at this age. It's for the older and wearier cats to carry that burden."

"It does seem silly to keep them from playing a game they clearly want to play." Thunder, an orange tabby tom, spoke up. Usually he refrained from speaking during these little family spats, but he seemed to be amused by this one for some reason.

"We played that game when we were kits, Fern, and we turned out just fine." Badger's Uncle Scorch meowed in his raspy voice. Scorch was one of the roughest-looking members of their family-group, with a deep scar running along his throat and one eye sightless and milky. According to Dust's mother, Scorch was lucky to have survived the war. Only the combined efforts of half the family had kept him from slipping into the paws of their ancestors. He was actually the most upbeat and lighthearted cat Dust had ever met, although he was considered to be a bit of a hellion by some.

"Toms!" Breeze spat, leaping free of her dozy family members and stalking off, tail puffed out.

"I still don't think-" Fern began, clearly still unwilling to rescind her banning of the game.

"I don't care what they play, so long as they go away. I have hunting to do this evening." The impatient growl came from Talon, Badger's father.

Taking this as permission, Talon's three kits hared away before he could change his mind, whooping loudly. Poppy skittered after them, eyes shining with excitement. Dust, of course, followed, sighing. Part of him had been hoping Fern would put her foot down and insist that they not be allowed to play that particular game, but she looked so tired… everyone did. He felt a bit guilty for even suggesting that the other kits disturb them. They had to work hard to feed everyone, traveling great distances sometimes before finding a promising burrow to dig up or unwary prey aboveground. His father, Stinger, had been speaking of the scarcity to his mother every night in hushed tones for the past moon. The coming dry-soil was promising to be a lean season.

"Leader!" All of the kits' voices overlapped as they all tried to claim leadership of one of the opposing teams. Holly and Badger's voices rang out slightly before anyone else's, the word coming out high-pitched and loud.

"I pick Blackstorm!" Badger yowled.

"Okay, Poppy then." Holly said with a shrug. It was turning into a she-kits versus toms match very quickly.

"That means Dust comes with us. Three on two!" Poppy said triumphantly. Warmth filled Dust's belly. Poppy would never let him down.

"Yeah, okay." Badger said carelessly. Blackstorm gave an indifferent shrug.

"This is my territory." Holly proclaimed, scratching a line in the dirt. "No trespassers!"

"I do as I please!" Badger swaggered up to the line, crossing with impunity. "What are you gonna do to stop me?"

"Attack, my fighters!" Holly bellowed dramatically.

Poppy surged forward instantly, the light of battle in her golden eyes and her jaws open wide. Even though she was small, Badger reared back, struggling not to stumble and fall over the smaller cat.

"Poppy – OW! Cut it out!" He complained as she sank her sharp little kitten teeth into his foreleg.

"We're playing war, you know." Blackstorm meowed, amused. "You had better learn to play, or this day will forever be remembered as…" he paused for dramatic effect, "the day Badger got beat up by a tiny she-cat! But don't worry, I'll show you how it's done."

Dust didn't have time to react before the gray tabby hurtled himself across the border, paws outstretched and teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. The image would be imprinted in his mind for many moons. He hit the ground hard, the side of his face striking the dirt. He was immediately aware of several sharp stones jabbing into his side, and the unaccustomed weight of Blackstorm pressing him down.

"Holly, help!" He gasped, craning his neck to find the black she-cat.

"I'm the leader." She said, looking at him blankly. "You guys do my fighting for me."

"Yeah, Dust." Blackstorm prodded him none-too-gently with one paw as the smaller tom struggled beneath him. "Learn to fight for yourself."

"What!? That's not what leaders do!" Badger snapped.

"Oh, yeah? What do leaders do then? Get pushed around by kits?" Holly quipped.

"No, they… they… get off me!" Badger snarled suddenly, lashing out at Poppy with his free paw, the one she wasn't chewing on.

Everything seemed to stop for Dust when he heard his sister's squeal of pain. All of the sudden he was free of Blackstorm's firm pawhold and racing toward Badger. Blood pounded in his ears, cold fear prickling his paws. He could see Poppy rolling away from the tabby, ears flattened and eyes wide. He saw the flash of claws as Badger sheathed them, and in that same instant the sharp tang of blood bathed his tongue.

"Poppy!" He cried out in horror, darting to her side.

"Ow…" The she-kit blinked at him, sounding oddly subdued. "My ear stings!"

"Yeah, Badger scratched you." Holly meowed, annoyed. She turned on her brother, hissing, "Is that what leaders do? Good job, mouse-brain! Now the adults will never let us play this game again!"

"It's bleeding!" Blackstorm said worriedly when he came to join them.

"Come on Poppy, Fern will know what to do to make it better." Dust told his sister. She nodded mutely. This, more than anything, concerned Dust. She hardly ever did as he asked.

"Wait, no! You can't tell Fern." Badger pleaded, his overconfident façade draining away. He looked downright terrified. "She'll tell my father!"

"So? We can't just let her ear bleed." Holly argued.

Badger looked at her in dismay. Talon was a tough father, way more strict and fierce than Dust's. His shoulders sagged and he let out a reluctant grumble of agreement. But Dust hardly paid any attention to all that. He was licking Poppy's ear as they walked, instinctively doing what he could to stop the bleeding.

"Stop, you're hurting me…" Poppy whined.

"The stinging means it's getting better." Dust meowed, repeating what he had heard one of the other queens crooning to a kit with a thorn in its pad.

The sun was just beginning to sink lower in the sky, a cool breeze signaling the approaching dusk. All of the adult cats were moving about now, organizing themselves into small hunting parties while the family Heads went around assigning hunting areas. At first Dust didn't see his mother, but she detached herself from the assembled cats when she caught sight of the pair of them. She was instantly alert.

"What happened?" She demanded, nudging Dust aside so she could get a good look at her daughter.

"It was just an accident. We were playing." The words tumbled from Dust's mouth in a panicked jumble. He couldn't think straight, but some part of him still tried to keep Badger's name out of it.

"Badger accidentally used his claws." Poppy put in unhelpfully as Fern sniffed the bloodied ear.

"Were you all playing War?" She asked, anger flaring behind her eyes.

Dust and Poppy exchanged a swift glance before looking tactfully to their paws. That told their mother all she needed to know.

"I told you kits not to play that game!" She scolded. "Now you see why! I don't want you to ever play it again, is that clear?"

"Yes, mother…" Poppy and Dust replied in unison.

"And try to stay away from that Badger. I don't want you getting into trouble because of him. He's a wild kitten if I ever saw one…" Fern said, lowering her voice slightly. It surprised Dust to hear her talking like this. She had always urged them to go out and play with the others. Especially Dust.

"Fern, get the kits inside." The concerned voice of Sand, Badger's mother, forestalled any response from the kits. Dust looked up from the ground to see a commotion among the gathering cats. It had transformed from the usual evening shuffle to something more anxious, less organized. It didn't take him long to spot the cause.

Eagle of the Clawbornes, flanked by two of his larger and more aggressive family-members, was facing off with Gray, Fox, and Frost, the Lynx-Barren Family Heads. Even from where he stood, Dust could see tails bristling and hackles rising. Whatever they were upset about this time, it was apparently very serious.

Arguments between the Clawbornes and the Lynx-Barrens were almost a daily occurrence. Their confrontational attitudes and warlike outlooks put them at odds with their more peaceable living-partners. Dust had overheard Scorch telling Fox once that the only reason they had requested to join their families was because they had lost too many cats in their endless battles with neighboring families; that, and because one of their own warriors had already become part of the family in order to win the affections of a she-cat. That love-struck tom had been Talon.

Despite Talon's temper, he had proven to be one of the more level-headed Clawbornes.

"Frost! Are you planning to feed my family today? Or to give us scraps like yesterday? I thought you Lynx-Barrens prized yourselves on fairness and equality." Eagle spoke as though he were addressing a crowd of hundreds, spitting out his words for emphasis and stalking forward until he was nose-to-nose with Frost, the oldest cat in the Lynx-Barrens. To his credit, the old tom didn't even flinch. Eagle was easily twice his size.

"You and your kin did not bring back a single piece of prey yesterday, Eagle. You know our laws. Only those who hunt partake of the fresh-kill at the end of the day. You got what you earned." Frost raised his chin, ears angled slightly backward.

"Earned? We keep your borders safe! Something you fools don't seem capable of doing. Do you know how many wandering vagrants we've found blatantly ignoring your borders?" Eagle didn't wait for an answer, his amber eyes slits. "Twelve in the past moon!"

Shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"Borders? What borders?" Dust heard one of his cousins ask.

"The Clawbornes have always been territorial…" Scorch muttered none-too-quietly to a pale gray tom named Fog.

"They're acting like the Sable Family." A she-cat Dust couldn't see said loudly. This caused quite the stir.

"Dust, into the nursery." Fern said impatiently, in a way that made Dust realize that she must have been trying to get his attention for some time. He followed obediently after her as she herded Poppy inside the thorny knot of brambles that served as the nursery.

"Keep walking, Lynxcats!" An insolent mewl stopped Dust just past the entrance.

Four fiery pairs of eyes glared challengingly at him from the nest of Hazel, the Clawborne queen.

"What's it like to not have a tail?" The only she-kit taunted. She was soon buried under her brothers as they worked clumsy paws to try and crawl free of the mossy slopes of their bed.

"Lynxes and Barrens are 'fraidy cats. That's what mother told me. Are you a 'fraidy cat?" The biggest kitten meowed. It was hard to believe that someone barely half a moon old could already be acting so high-and-mighty. Dust wasn't even sure how to respond, or if he should respond. But the kits clearly wanted some sort of answer.

"What's it like to have an evil she-fox for a mother?" He nearly jumped out of his fur when Badger appeared at his side, hot anger twisting his features. Shrill mews of outrage filled the nursery in response.

"Badger! Don't EVER let me catch you saying anything like that again!" Sand snapped, cuffing her son roughly about the ears. "There's enough trouble without you stirring up more."

Badger lowered his head meekly and slunk past the other kits to his family's nest, but not before shooting a nasty look backward at the Clawborne kits. "Rotten Clawbornes… always ruining everything." He muttered to himself. Dust eyed him curiously, wondering if he knew about his own father's history.

"Go to sleep now. We have to get back to the meeting." Fern meowed soothingly as Dust hopped into his own nest. Her words were oddly rushed, and her ears swiveled back and forth distractedly.

"No bedtime story?" Poppy asked in dismay.

"I'll tell you two tomorrow if you're asleep when I come back." Fern promised. She gave her daughter a loving nuzzle before backing out of the den, leaving Dust sitting alertly beside his sister.

"You behave, too. I don't want to have to bring your father in here to set you straight." Sand said sternly to her own kits. They curled up side-by-side, swearing they wouldn't leave the nest. Holly and Blackstorm looked legitimately worn out, as though all the playing had suddenly caught up with them, but Badger watched with envy as his mother disappeared through the brambles.

Voices carried in from outside, although Dust couldn't make them out. He inched toward the edge of his nest, straining his ears as best he could, but no matter what he did he could not make out any words. The barrier between the kits and the outside world was just too thick.

He rested his head on his paws with a sigh. Breaking the rules or going against his mother's word was not against his nature. Still, he desperately wished that he could hear what they were talking about out there… He began to trace the walls restlessly with his eyes, noting the areas that had been repaired recently to keep out the frigid night wind. Amber sunlight peeked through several small holes near the ceiling. His gaze lighted on the opening to the dirtplace tunnel, a place for the kits and mothers to go when they didn't want to travel all the way to the main dirtplace on the outskirts of camp. A thin screen of grass and dry ivy served to keep the smell from wafting through the entire nursery. The walls of dirtplace were thinner, if he remembered correctly…

Excitement flooded through him and he sat bolt upright. As his paws noiselessly touched the ground, however, he began to have second thoughts. Worry wormed its way into his heart and he glanced around at the other nests. Everyone was breathing slow and steady, curled up or sprawled out asleep. He gave himself a shake and wondered why he was so anxious about this. It wasn't uncommon at all for a kit to go to the dirtplace in the night. It wasn't like he was actually sneaking out.

"…weakness, Frost. The Lynx-Barrens need a new leader, someone who can actually make the hard decisions for the good of your family." Eagle's bold voice was crystal clear as Dust crouched at the far corner of dirtplace. All he could see was the bristling hides of the cats in the back, but he didn't really need to see. Just hear.

"He speaks for all of us, Eagle. What you are suggesting is the very same harebrained idea that nearly wiped out your entire family." It was Fox speaking. He kept a calm and level tone, though it was all for naught, for as soon as the words were out of his mouth, a flood of furious protests went up from the other Clawbornes.

"One warrior or fifty, at least we're strong enough to stand up for ourselves no matter the odds!"

"Yeah, at least we don't hide in the sand like timid little shrews!"

The cries cut off abruptly, only a few straggling murmurs working their way through the crowd as someone else joined the elders. Dust caught a glimpse of a massive cat and guessed who it was. His suspicions were confirmed when the cat spoke.

"Eagle, you are a guest here. You have refused to properly obey the laws of these cats, the good creatures who took you and your kin in when you were bleeding and broken. When you had nowhere else to go, the Lynx-Barrens welcomed you into their camp without question. Are the Clawbornes so thirsty for revenge that they would forget a debt owed? That is not how I remember our clan. Or did so much change while I was gone?" Talon's deep growl rippled through the crowd. Nobody dared interrupt him. Eagle may be ferocious and terrifying, but Talon was just as big and even more imposing somehow. Whether or not he was somehow related to the dark tabby, Dust couldn't say. He had never really seen the two interact.

"Clawbornes obey no laws but their own." Eagle snarled, although his voice no longer held the impudence he had approached Frost with before.

"If you are unhappy with our way of life, you may always leave." Berry, an aged she-cat, said stiffly in her no-nonsense way. Mutters of agreement spread out around her.

"Eagle, we have nowhere else to go. Now is not the time for this." A taut she-cat's voice that Dust didn't recognize rang out from where the Clawborne Family had clustered together. All Dust could see of her was a bushy tail.

Loud pawsteps erupted to Dust's right, making him flinch and thrust himself sideways, deep into the brambles. He tried to ignore the claw-like thorns as they bit into his flesh, but couldn't help but let out a whimper as one dug into the base of his tail.

"Dust, what are you doing? Did you forget how to make dirt?" Badger's striped face hung in the edge of his vision. He twisted himself slightly to look at the other kit, not sure if he should be relieved or dismayed.

"No, I… I…" He couldn't think of anything on the spot, so he lapsed into silence.

"Are you listening in on the adults?" Badger asked excitedly, amber eyes lighting up.

"Sssh! Keep it down!" Dust hissed. "You'll get us in trouble."

"I'm not the one sneaking around. I just came to make dirt." A self-satisfied, smug look crossed Badger's face. Dust stared at him hard for a long moment before the oaf seemed to deflate a bit. "Okay, so what's going on? What did I miss? Tell me everything."

Dust didn't really want to share everything he had seen, but Badger had caught him red-pawed listening to things he wasn't supposed to… and he knew how petty the older kit could be.

"Well uh…" He mentally ran through everything, wanting to summarize it as succinctly as possible so Badger would hurry up and leave him alone. "Uh… the Clawbornes are upset with the amount of prey they've been getting… and they-they think the Lynx-Barrens are coward for not fighting er… somebody. I think it's the Sable Family."

"Nobody should fight the Sable Family." Badger snorted. "They're evil. My mother says their claws are tipped with poison and their eyes are black as night."

Dust mumbled his agreement. The Sable Family sounded almost demonic, like shadow creatures from the darkest nightmares a cat could have. None of the tales surrounding them were happy ones, although Dust suspected some were completely made up to scare them away from the forest. No Lynx-Barren had set paw underneath the trees in generations.

"So just the usual Clawborne stuff then, huh?" Badger's wonder-filled expression slowly died, replaced with a bored look. "I don't get why the adults treat it like it's some big thing. The Clawbornes complain about everything under the sun."

"This time it feels different." Dust murmured, peeking out of a hole in the thorns. "I think they're serious this time."

"You sound like my mom." Badger snorted. "She's always telling me not to mess with those mouse-brained little Clawborne kits. They're not special." He swatted at a loose twig angrily, sending it spinning into the bramble screen. He wasn't being very quiet.

"Badger, shut up or go back to your nest." Dust said irately, too curious about what was being said to remember his fear of the bigger kit. To his surprise, Badger closed his mouth, crouching down next to him with ears perked.

"- continue to watch the borders! And you will provide us with more prey! That is the end of it!" Eagle's words came out as yowls. Clearly his temper had flared up again, and Dust would have given anything to know why. Beside him, he heard Badger growling to himself. He kicked the other tom sharply with one back leg when he started fidgeting and trying to find a decent peephole to watch through.

"Just listen!" He mouthed.

Once again, Badger went along without any resistance. Dust glanced at him to make sure it really was Badger he was sitting next to. The young tom's eyes were wide, pupils dilated and tail jittering with nervous energy. He seemed like a normal, mischievous kit now, not the bully who always swaggered about and made his life miserable.

"Frost, we need to have a council." Gray said grimly once the Clawbornes had disappeared into the night, dragging Dust's thoughts away from Badger's behavior and back to the situation at paw.

"I agree." Fox said.

"What is there to talk about?" Frost said wearily. His voice wheezed out of his frail form like wind over the rocks. Dust had heard rumors around camp that Frost had not been expected to survive through the cold-season. "The Clawbornes demand more fresh-kill or there will be blood. We may as well give it to them."

"They are full-grown cats capable of feeding themselves." Berry harrumphed. "Besides, we have numbers on our side. We can take them two to one, at least."

"Do we want to risk losing cats so close to dry-soil? The Clawbornes have always been fierce and proud. They will not be driven out without a fight, nor will they change their ways based on words not backed by tooth and claw. They have proven that they are incapable of backing down from any fight. We may succeed in sending them away, but at what cost?" Gray meowed. He sounded resigned.

"We are not fighters, Berry. We live here, in the harshest of places, to avoid these bloody battles over territory. Can you blame them for being unable to hunt for themselves when their homeland was so very different from ours?" Frost rasped.

"We don't owe them a thing, Frost. We've been more than accommodating." Fox meowed angrily. "But… I don't want any bloodshed either. We can afford to give them what they want… for now."

"I'm not risking the lives of my kits for some outsiders. When food gets scarce, the Clawbornes are not getting any of my fresh-kill." Dust's eyes widened in shock to hear his mother speaking up at a council meeting, voice hot with fury. It was taboo for anyone but the Heads of Family to talk during these proceedings.

"Hold your tongue, Fern!" Gray snapped. "Or you will be asked to leave."

"She has a point, dear." Berry soothed her mate. "When the dry season is in full effect we will barely have enough food for ourselves, let alone those leeches. We must have a plan of action when the time comes."

Whispers of agreement went up from among the assembled cats. None of the elders spoke until Frost finally announced, "It is time to hunt, and we have much to consider. I call this meeting to a close. For now the Clawbornes eat what they wish. Be considerate, my friends. They have suffered much."

Dissatisfied grumbles went up from several cats as the meeting began to break up. Dust got stiffly to his paws and pushed past Badger to get back into the nursery. His mind whirled with all the things he had heard, and a feeling of dread began to wrap around his heart. It seemed as though conflict was not far off, no matter how hard the Lynx-Barrens worked to avoid it.

"So wait, we have to give some of our prey to the Clawbornes because they're too lazy to catch food for themselves?" Badger padded close behind Dust, face set in a snarl. "That's completely mouse-brained!"

"Quiet!" Dust snapped, freezing in his tracks at the sound of someone stirring in their nest. When he was sure no one had been awoken by Badger's outburst, he spoke again. "It's what we have to do if we want to keep the peace."

"Keep the peace? We should flatten them!" Badger said vehemently, although this time he kept his voice down.

"Cats could die." Dust meowed, looking at the larger kit with large, terrified eyes. "Sand, Talon, Fern, Stinger… any one of them could be killed if we fight the Clawborne Family on this. I… I don't want that to happen. I don't want anyone to die." He looked at his paws. The very thought of living without his mother took his breath away. The thought of any one of the cats he had grown up with, Lynx or Barren, not being there was more than he could bear.

Badger raised his chin and looked like he was about to protest, but he slowly deflated and a solemn look overtook his face. They sat in silence for a long moment before Dust turned away to climb back into his nest. Suddenly he felt tired and old, and he was only a few moons into his life. He wondered how Frost must feel right now, the weight of all the Lynx-Barrens squarely upon his shoulders. No wonder the poor tom had gone all white.

"Dust." The tabby kit paused and peered through the darkness back at Badger. The bigger kit shuffled his paws awkwardly and meowed, "You don't have to worry about anyone dying, okay?"

Dust looked at him in confusion, wondering what exactly that meant.

"I mean… I won't let anything happen. To anyone. Not you, your mother, my siblings… no one. I won't let anybody die." Badger swore. He nodded once to himself and scrambled back to his own nest, holding himself with newfound purpose. All Dust could do was watch after him, not sure what to say.

Badger meant well, but he was just a kit. They both were. Badger barely understood the politics of their family's alliances and Dust was no taller than a pigeon.

But somehow… he took Badger's vow with him as he went to sleep that night, nose tucked under his back leg in his usual sleeping pose. Those words made him feel hopeful, something he desperately needed in light of the night's disturbing news. He quietly made a promise of his own as well.

I will work with Badger to keep my family safe… even if it's the two of us against the whole world. Warmth like sunlight filled his heart, and in the span of a blink he was lost in a deep slumber.