The story of Morning Dew, a rogue, now a warrior

by Mothwing Of Riverclan

A rogue living outside the Clans is living with her kin when greencough threatens to take their lives. Riverclan reluctantly takes them in, intending to keep them until they recover. Morning Dew, however, is determined to prove herself to the clan to become a true warrior. A Memorial to one of my cats, Ginger, who left to join the Clans. Waiting for reviews for chaps 3 and 4

1. Chapter 1

I am quite ashamed to say I was born a rogue. My ill status of birth would, frankly, disgust most of you Clan-born cats. It still, if not occasionally, does. Yet I had done nothing to deserve your treatment of injustice. This is the tale of how I came to be who I now am.

Born wretched and lame, I was most despised among my brother and sisters, for I was favored and delicately handled by my mother, a golden tabby with one blind eye. A piercing green. The moment I was born, she provided me my name, Dew. This related to my gray small, weak structure, so easily disrupted and crushed among so many things. My littermates ( Pine, Mint, and Root) my mother ( named Bloom) and I were constantly on the move, until I was around 4 moons old.

My sister, Root, was among my favorite cats. She was timid, compassionate, and understanding. Root would walk side by side with me, pacing herself even though my crippled hind leg dragged me down and sacrifice her portion of a meal to me. Pine and Mint, both with golden fur and blue irises, would trample me with their mischievous ways. On this particular day, Root and I were sharing a scrap of vole. Her pale gray tabby pelt was highlighted against the vast landscape of forest surrounding us. Lying side by side, we basked in the warmth of Greenleaf. Suddenly, we heard mother shriek in the distance.

Both of us sprinted toward her yowl. We fought through the thicket and crashed into the dense greenery. In a moment, the pain in the crippled leg I was born with vanished. I had to save Bloom. Our mother was clawing at a monstrous beast. His heavy brown body overpowered our mother's slight one. But she had her advantages of agility. Pine and Mint were crouching under a bush, wide eyed with terror. Cowards. Hissing and spitting, she rushed into battle. Root leapt onto the ambusher's back and sank her claws into his throat. As small as she was, she had no strength whatsoever and was outmatched. The creature pinned with his paws. The breath whooshed out of my sister's lungs and she struggled to escape. But the creature had no mercy. I watched all this procession slowly. Silently, I prayed for our mother to come to Root's defense. She never did.