Chapter One~ Catnapped
Whitetail padded out into the forest. She and Cloudpelt had confessed their feelings for each other, and things had been a little awkward since then. She was supposed to be hunting, but she couldn't. Her mind was filled with imagages of the good days, when things were different. Now, BlackClan would constantly hunt on their borders. Why do we need such big camp? We're only a Clan of three cats, Whitetail thought. Since her Clan had been spread out, they only had so many warriors. This had happened with all the Clans. There was a great storm, and many had died in that time. Food was scarce. The icy, cold winter chilled Whitetail to the bone. There was snow and ice on everything.
The lake was frozen, making it hard to drink. They had to find puddles that were barely frozen, just enough to make it easy to crack. The other water was trapped beneath the thick layer of ice. Whitetail padded on a frozen stick.
The bushes rustled. Whitetail perked up her ears. She unsheathed her claws. She was going to fight for her clan no matter what. Before she could pounce, a big brown tom pinned her down. "Why hello, kitty," he sneered, scars scraped over his body. "Call me kitty again bitch," Whitetail hissed. "Kitty," The tom laughed. Whitetail hissed and pounced on him. They both tumbled over, the brown tom pinning Whitetail down. "I see you've been in a lot of fights," Whitetail growled,"And it doesn't look like you've won any of them." The brown tom hissed and slapped Whitetail's face. "Get her!" Another tom, with less scars, nodded. He was a dark brown tom with light brown paws. "Yes father," he meowed, clawing Whitetail's face. He held her by the neck.
"Look, kitty," the other tom mewed. "We want you to help us with something." Whitetail growled. "What's in it for me?" The tom licked his paw,"You live." Whitetail's eyes widened. "Good enough for me," she meowed quickly, following the two toms. "My name is Bones," the first tom said. "I'm Slash," the dark brown tom with light brown paws meowed. "You know how to fight right?" Bones asked. "Well, no shit, dumbass," Whitetail murmured. Slash rose to his paws. "Do not speak to my father that way! Bitch!" He unseathed his claws, then he pounced. "No, Slash," Bones chuckled, "Leave her be. She's brave." Slash hissed before sheathing his claws again. They padded forth.
Whitetail saw two cats sitting at the entrance of Slash's Clan. "What Clan is this?" Whitetail muttered in disgust. "We are DarkClan," Slash said proudly. Bones greeted everyone with curt nods. They seemed to respect him. On the way, Whitetail saw a cat completely covered in scars. " That's Scars. We use him as practice for the apprentices," Slash laughed. What? They use their clanmates as battle targets?! What kind of Clan is this?!
Bones walked into a clearing. "You said you know how to fight?" he barked. "Yeah," Whitetail growled. "Well, you're going to learn how to fight the DarkClan way," Bones told her. "What's wrong with my way?" Whitetail retorted. "Fine, fight your way. But just to let you know, Slash will kick your sorry ass," Bones sneered. "Get her, son." Slash pounced, claws unseathed. Whitetail felt claws dig into her shoulders. She yowled in pain. She unsheated her claws and clawed Slash in the face. Slash smacked her hard, causing Whitetail to whince.
"Are you going to learn our ways, or keep fighting like a soft, young kittypet?" Bones growled. His claws were very long. "I'm going to learn your ways," Whitetail meowed. She looked down at a small puddle. Oh, Cloudpelt. Will I ever see you again?
Bones grinned. "I will take you to our leader, Bloodclaw." Whitetail looked around camp. "Oh, by the way, if you kill prey, what do you do?" Slash quizzed her suddenly. "You give it to the elders and kits who need it the most," Whitetail answered. "Wrong! You give it to the strong warriors, not puny kits or weak elders. Forget all that bullshit," Slash growled. "But the kits need it more! You should give it to those who are weaker than you! How do the kits get food?!" Whitetail demanded. "Queens hunt for their own kits," Bones growled. "What about the father?" Whitetail asked. "The father doesn't parent the kits. Most kits here don't know their fathers yet," grunted Bones.
"Oh," Whitetail mewed. She felt bad for the kits in DarkClan. Imagine living there, all the trash and fighting. A kit could get killed in such a place. Whitetail remembered her own father, Blizzardstorm. And her mother, Dovetail. She could smell the faint scent of milk in the nursery, her father playing with her and Greykit. Those were the good days. She could play with Cloudpelt and Nightfang, without having to worry. Those were the best days.
