The Warrior Games

by BubbleBoots

The Dark Forest has won, all hope has been lost and now blood is spilling as a form of entertainment. The Dark Forest grew bored and tired of merely controlling the clans, they wanted them to feel their pain and suffering. 4 was made into 12, each with a purpose;each to help the Dark Forest. Then came the games.

3. Clan 2- Den Building

Clan 2- Den Building

Mapleshade set her dark paws down on the dry forest floor of the second clan.

These cats always fared well in the arena and were especially good at finding shelter. However, Mapleshade never put her bets on them: they couldn't fight for their lives! Most of the time, they would be killed by their "allies" after they made a shelter.

She rolled her eyes and sighed as she sauntered into the main camp, her fur still matted with moon dust. With a few swift bounds, the eccentric Dark Forest cat leaped onto the strongest branch of the largest tree, facing the fearful cats.

"Welcome! Welcome! To the annual reaping to earn the honour of representing your clan in the Warrior Games!" The tortoiseshell cheered, her amber eyes lit up as she scanned the shaking tributes. "As usual, she cats first!"

Confidently, Mapleshade padded down from the tree branch and paced her way over to the she cat pool, hidden in the knot of a fallen tree.

Teasingly, she prised out the first name with her claw, an evil glint in her eyes.

"Feathertuff!"

Before her eyes, the grey and white tabby drew away from the group. By the determined look in her eyes, it was clear she wanted to win, though Mapleshade could tell by her thin frame that she wouldn't. The Dark Forest cats scanned the age groups and saw that the grey and white tabby was from the 18 moons section.

"And now the toms!" Mapleshade said, her evil gaze darting away from the young she cat as she took her place beside her, fur bristling with unease.

The mischievous tortoiseshell took a few steps toward the Tom pool, strips of bark floating on the water. With out sharp claw, she pulled out a name from near the bottom.

"Littlefoot."

A small grey tabby stepped out nervously from the 12 moons section of the clearing. He was small and looked barely strong enough to hold a twig. Terrified, the young Tom looked for comfort in his clanmates eyes ; there was only relief.

Eventually the Tom joined the other tribute next to Mapleshade and sat down cautiously.

"Our tributes from Clan 2, Feathertuff and Littlefoot!"