Here's Chapter 2! (This actually does have to do with warriors)
Disclaimer: I don't own warriors. Or any of the non-twoleg characters.
I stared solemnly at the small mound of earth, reminiscing all the times I spent with that little kitten. The cold breeze tickled my arm, triggering a row of Goosebumps to emerge along my skin. I placed my hand on the soft heap, and felt something wet dribble down my cheek.
No, no, I thought, I promised myself I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't...
I knew that that was a promise I just couldn't keep.
It was the 3 year anniversary of when step mom kicked my kitten out the door.
Something rustled behind me, and I heard a yelp of surprise. I twisted around. Whatever had made the noise was gone. Or was it.
"I know you're out there," I meowed. "Show yourself. I'm not going to hurt you."
I could feel the tension coming off of the creature in waves. I had no trouble staying calm – I've had plenty of practice. My step mom sometimes made me watch The Dog Whisperer with her, and I've found that some of those methods work on cats. The wind rustled the leaves, and I saw a small pink dot between two of the leaves. A cat nose.
"Look, I'm not going to do you any harm, so you might as well come out before I chase you."
The cat, who was coming to its senses, uncertainly removed its paw from the protection of the bush and stepped forward. I just sat there, waiting patiently. Eventually, the whole cat was out, staring at me nervously.
It was small, probably only a child. Its green eyes twinkled with curiosity and fear, and its white fur bristled with anticipation.
I held out my hand for it to sniff. It jolted back, thinking that I was going to harm it, but soon realized that I wasn't. After a minute of gazing, the cat padded forward, sniffed my hand, and smiled. I rubbed its head, and it purred affectionately.
"What's you're name, little guy?" I asked.
"I'm Whitepaw," she replied. "How do you know catspeak?"
"I've had experience," I grinned. "What's a cat like you doing in the woods?"
"I'm in ThunderClan!" she squeaked. Suddenly she paused, and a grave look came over her face, like she just remembered something important. She took a few steps away. "Sorry, I can't talk to you."
"Why not?" I asked, frowning.
"Brackenfur said never to be around Twolegs if I can avoid it," she mewed. "That means I have to stay away from you."
"Two things," I meowed. "One, we're not Twolegs, we're humans. Twoleg sounds demeaning. And two, there is no reason you should stay away from me. Some people are bad, but I'm not. That's stereotyping, and stereotyping is bad."
"Oh," she thought for a second. "I don't get it."
I sighed and rubbed my temples. I was not good with older kittens.
"Maybe I should just talk to Brackenfur," I suggested. "Could you bring him over?"
"Sure, but I don't think he'll like it," Whitepaw turned around to leave. "See ya' later!"
"See ya'!" I yowled as she scampered off into the underbrush. I turned, put my hand on the mound of soil, and sighed.