Hey guys! So, this is a one-shot, as I assume you already knew. It was rather an on-the-spur thing that I conjured from my brain, so I vaguely have the plot in mind. This is my first one-shot and all, so please don't judge me too harshly, although I am always open to any constructive criticism. Anyways, enjoy and don't forget to R&R!
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~ Naïve ~
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A patrol of cats walked in, some were limping and others left bloody paw prints on the ground where they stepped. Between them, they carried a body and disappeared inside the medicine den. One of them, a pale golden tabby, left the group and leapt up the ledges on the wall of the stone hollow before disappearing inside a cave. His voice faintly carried on the wind as he reported the incidents to their leader. " Twolegplace cats... Battle... Chased off... Dead... " He came out looking satisfied, but the worry and anguish shone clear in his blue eyes.
o0o
The occasional rumble of thunder was heard over the tree tops, as the soft grey clouds swiftly rolled in. A bone-chilling mist settled over the camp, drawing all the cats into their dens. Smaller animals scurried away and hid themselves in their burrows, beneath the gnarled roots of trees and inside bramble and holly thickets. The trees stood tall and lanky against the dark skies.
A single kit stood outside of a den, eyes closed, reveling in the coolness of the atmosphere and the soft pitter patter of rain against the earth.
"Wrenkit! Come back inside, or you'll catch a cold."
Sighing, Wrenkit wearily got to his paws and padded inside the nursery. His mother licked him soothingly between his brown ears and flopped down in her nest next to Amberkit, indicating with a flick of her tail that Wrenkit should join them. Jumping into the nest, Wrenkit circled the moss until it was comfortable enough to lie on and he settled down next to his sister. He waved his tail at her and she nuzzled him softly in response.
The other, older, fluffy white she-cat opened her mouth to say something when a dark grey cat walked in, shaking his pelt in an attempt to rid his fur of water.
"Stormblaze!", she exclaimed.
" Swanfeather", he purred.
" I was just about to tell the kits a story, " the Queen continued, " Would you like to join? "
Wrenkit perked up his ears. Their stories were always such fun to hear, his parents were amazing at storytelling. His father nodded his head and Swanfeather shifted over so that he could lay down.
" Alright, well, we are going to tell you that these days, there are some rather sick things going on. " She took a deep breath. " Once upon a heartbeat, long ago, there was no warrior code. " The kits gasped as the suspense settled in. Thoughts trickled through their little imaginative minds...no warrior code? what was life like? the code of conduct to survive, to live with honor? They leaned in eagerly.
" It was made up as we went along, but there were many accidents, " Stormblaze reassured them solemnly. " Many, many, accidents. " Wrenkit's breath hitched in his throat, awed.
Swanfeather took control. " In those times, many cats were evil. They were cruel, sick, sadistic and twisted cats that killed for the fun of it. They spared no mercy and enjoyed every kill. They made sure their victims died a slow, painful, death. At the beginning of the clans, there was a great battle. All the cats fought, and many were killed. Finally, those who had died, made it a point to show up - dead - and demanded a warrior code. It was then that the clans began to blossom.
" But some cats didn't change. As time wore on, and as the clans grew, cats became more ambitious, and craved for bloodshed. These cats, naturally, were fighters. Sometimes they reached their goal, and, sometimes, their plans went awry and they were killed, or yet, caught and exiled. Even now, I am sorry to say, that the clans are nothing but dwindling weaklings - that don't know how to hunt or fight and have no sense of direction - compared to those Twolegplace cats that have been attacking. For all we know they could be- " she broke off panting. Her green eyes gleamed with an unreadable emotion. Muttering, she turned her back towards them.
Wrenkit couldn't take it any more. She was badmouthing the clans for Starclan's sake! " Is that what you think? How do you know you aren't one of those cats? Are you even loyal to Thunderclan!? Traitor! "
" You don't know what you're saying! "
" Oh, I don't? " he challenged. " Remind me how quickly the clans grew, and how organized they are, always helping other cats. Maybe you should try to help too, instead of lying around all day like a fat, lazy, boring old lump of fur. " His mother was watching him with wide eyes. " Kittypet! " he spat.
" Wrenkit! " shouted Stormblaze furiously, amber eyes blazing, but Wrenkit wasn't paying attention.
His mother sighed. " I didn't mean it like that. You just need to be careful. There are a lot of twisted cats out there. Ones that would kill you just for the fun of it. Even within the clans. I'm pretty sure you heard the story of Brokenstar, o- or of Tigerclaw..."
" We are not weak. Or evil. Or twisted. Or sadistic. Or sick. Or merciless... The clans aren't like that! We're different. We're all happy! "
Stormblaze's eyes darkened. " You have no idea... " Wrenkit caught sight of the many scars that crisscrossed his fathers pelt, some fresh, but he shook that away and merely returned his blue gaze to Swanfeather.
" Not by much! The clans are not safe anymore! You don't understand... I care for you! If anything ever happened to you... " Swanfeather's eyes visibly darkened and she shuddered.
" Well then, I guess I'll have to just prove you wrong! " With that, Wrenkit burst out of the den and streaked across the camp. He could hear his mother calling him and his father hushing her up, telling her that Wrenkit was going to be alright, and that he needed some time alone.
Wrenkit had never felt more miserable in his life. Then again, misery wasnt something he had endured before; all he knew was happiness. Even as a four moon old kit, he was unaware of all the chaos going on around him. Not watching where he was going, he collided with the wall of the stone hollow and sat in a dazed heap. Getting slowly to his feet, he caught a glimpse of the outside world and with barely restrained excitement, wriggled out of the tunnel he had found, and outside, gazing into the underbrush surrounding the camp. He took a shaky step forward but stopped and straightened himself.
Those stories weren't true. According to him, the world was perfect! It is isn't it? He thought happily. The grass sparkled in the dew and the air was thick with the musky scent of rain, mud, and a clump of violet flowers on a nearby bush that made his lip curl. They're just stories, he reminded himself, for what felt like the millionth time.
He felt determined, as he thought, I'm going to prove them wrong someday, but for now, I think I'll just explore. Can't be that bad can it?
o0o
Working his way through the bramble thickets, Wrenkit bit back a squeak of pain as he stepped on a thorn. Leaning back on his haunches, he tugged at it and managed to pull it out without so much of a wince. A trickle of blood appeared and he licked it off. Standing again, he paced forward and came out into a clearing. He saw a fallen log on one side. Walking forward a little, he realized that the forest ended here and the moor began a little way off. He would have gladly walked on, if it weren't for the little bubbling stream that divided the two territories. Vaguely remembering the elders telling him about the lithe Windclan cats, who found comfort in the moor, and not just for running away.
Cowards... he thought, but he instantly felt guilty. I'm not my mother, he reminded himself, and I never will be, but I have to admit, Thunderclan is the best. He was disgusted by the fact that Swanfeather had no respect for the clans. Especially her own clan, Thunderclan, the best of all the clans. If she really hated the clans, why didn't she run away to go play moss ball with her half-kittpet friends? Wrenkit shook his head to clear his mind of the thoughts. He was a care-free, happy kit, and he was exploring right now.
Focusing on his surroundings, Wrenkit took a sharp intake of breath and realized that he had absent-mindedly padded in the direction of the lake. Looking around, he found a small boulder from which he could access the stepping stones halfway across the stream. Instinct kicked in and eyes gleaming, he took a flying leap and landed on the boulder. Wrenkit hesitated for only a moment before he had jumped off and began hopping over the stepping stones towards the opposite shore. The stream was swelling slightly because of the added rainwater but he landed safely on the border.
Tail sticking straight up, he raced his way across the moor. The feeling of the wind rushing through his fur was wonderful, after being stuck in the intense greenleaf heat.
He was already halfway across the moor when he began to feel tired but he pushed on, not wanting to be caught by a patrol, and the excitement was enough to send the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Soon enough, he skidded to a stop as he detected their scent marks again. Another border. How many borders do they have? He thought, annoyed. Then he realized that he there were no other cat scents, except for Windclan's. Must be the end of the lake territories... He told himself.
Sighing, he turned back. Only stopping to take a short rest. It was nearly sunhigh, and the sun beat upon his back as he rolled in the grass.
Again, he journeyed back over the moor. But this time, he slowed his swift pace to a slow trot. The sun had barely moved a whisker length when he detected voices on the wind. Curious, Wrenkit forced himself to stop. Slowly but surely, the voices became somewhat louder, and a head bobbed into view. And another. And another.
Eyes wide and muscles tense, Wrenkit's heart filled with dread. He didn't want to be caught now! My apprentice ceremony will be delayed! He wailed inside his brain.
The lead cat stiffened and his gaze swept over the territory. That was the cue for Wrenkit to run. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and it was not long before he heard the steady thrumming of pawsteps behind him. He willed himself to run faster.
" You there! Stop, kit, you're on Windclan territory. "
Wrenkit barely had time to register before he crashed headlong into the stream. Splashing through the shallow water, he found himself on the shore of Thunderclan territory. Glancing back at a pair of narrowed yellow eyes, he bounded ahead until he was out of sight of the Windclan cats.
There in the clearing, the worry fell away and he felt quite content, chasing the butterflies amongst the ferns with never-ending energy and stalking beetles wherever he could.
He had made his first catch under the gnarled roots of a beech tree and was burying it in a clump of grass when a bird let out a shrill alarm call and his head shot up. Confused, he looked around him.
As he took in his surroundings, he realized some things. The sky was tinted with red, and it was darker. The shadows looked longer. Everywhere he looked something seemed wrong. A twig snapped and he jumped. Whirling around his eyes made contact with a pair of red ones. Panic flared within him.
" W- Who are you? " he called. A dark grey cat stepped out of the shadows. This cat sure didn't smell like Thunderclan. And he looked mean. The grey tom threw his head back and laughed. It was a cruel, mirthless laugh. Wrenkit shrank back in fear and his cream tabby fur bristled.
" Look at this guys! A kit! We found a kit! " A bunch of laughs and jeers rang in the kit's ears. Wrenkit relaxed, ever so slightly. The amusement glittering in those horrid, blood-shot eyes was replaced by anger. " 'Who am I?' You ask? Who are you? " The tom yowled.
Wrenkit made himself stand a little taller. " I'm a Thunderclan warrior! " He boasted. A spark of interest appeared in the grey tom's eyes.
" Ahhhh, I was looking for this... Thunderclan. Mind showing me where your camp is? " He purred silkily.
Wrenkit's blue eyes began to water. " I- I don't know where it is. " he dared himself to look up and a shiver of fear ran up his spine. The dark grey tom's red eyes were mere slits and he was trembling with fury.
" Oh, no? Then I suppose I'll just have to find it myself. " He leaned in till his muzzle touched Wrenkit's. His breath stank of crowfood and his eyes were filled with malice. " At least we'll be able to bring them a gift. " He snarled. The bloodlust gleamed in his cruel eyes as he brought down an unsheathed paw onto Wrenkit.
Wrenkit felt a flash of pain but it was over as quickly as it came. Blackness engulfed him and he opened his eyes to see stars in his fur. Walking over to a light yellow she-cat, they both turned and climbed up and away. Looking down at his bloody mangled body, Wrenkit sighed and looked away.
I was so Naïve...
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So how was it? Like it? Tell me your answers in a review! That's what keeps me going!.