A/N: Hi! I'm pretty excited to start this story. I hope you enjoy Stolen: Snowkit's Story! I would also like to give credit to Prin Pardus; I got inspiration from her story, Snatched: The Story of Snowkit.
Disclaimer- I don't own Warriors.
Snowkit bounded toward a leaf dancing on the breeze, purring as he batted it down above his nose. Soot fell off, darkening his creamy paw fur as he played. He felt the ground shake slightly; as if paws were thundering all at once. He looked up, bemused. And that feeling became confusion. Why were all the cats hiding? . . .
A white figure moved in the charred forest ravine; easy prey for the bird gliding over. The hawk flying high above flapped its tawny wings, golden eyes glittering cruelly. With a high pitched shriek, it plunged toward the clearing, and several of the shapes scattered, disappearing under burnt undergrowth and bushes. To the hawk it didn't matter: he was focused only on the small one. He threw his wings back to prepare for the snatch, his coal black talons outstretched. A high yowl sounded in the hawk's ear slits as a shape sprinted toward him. Just as his talons wrapped around his prey it slammed into his side. He shreed and started beat his wings, the cat on his back shredding off his feathers as it clawed him fiercely. As he rose, the cat fell off. He flew up, up, high above the clearing. Snowkit was lost to ThunderClan, forever.
Pain lanced through his back as the cruel claws dug into him with each wingbeat. His eyes grazed the forest far beneath his paws. He thought he saw a flash of ginger- another cat? But it fell away as the hawk moved on. Snowkit let out a cry as he saw his own blood falling down, down. The hawk flew on. Snowkit eventually ceased to struggle and fell limp in the hawk's talons, eyes scanning below. He knew now there was no way he would ever escape. He had almost lost hope when the hawk shuddered. Snowkit had no idea what happened, when hot blood spattered on his fur. A stick with feathers on the end was in the embedded in the hawk's chest. Snowkit let out a yowl as the lifeless hawk plummeted down. Snowkit hit the ground. He cried out in pain, looking at his shaking paws, and his crimson fur. He squirmed out of the hawk's now limp talons and fell unconscious.
...
Snowkit felt rumbles beneath his paws; these were not paw rumbles, they were rumbles of a voice. He looked up to see a kind brown face flecked with black, the creatures emerald eyes shone on him with pity. He saw another cat next to him, a she cat with chocolate fur and liquid gold eyes. He saw the tom's mouth move, like he was speaking to Snowkit, but Snowkit blinked blankly. Turning his attention away, he noticed he was not on the hard stone where the hawk landed; rather, he was on drapes of soft moss. He craned his head around, surprised to see his fur pure white again and his back laced with fresh pink scars. He moved, but the pain seemed duller now, muter. He turned and saw the tom had left, and the brown she cat was lying next to him. She murmured something and used her paw to smear a cool green pulp on his back. He sighed as the pain disappeared. She must know he was deaf now, he thought bitterly. She brought her face up close to his. He saw her mouth the words, he thought, "My name is Valley. Welcome to The Freecats."