It was getting dark as Victor, Hunter and Mark finally returned to their den. Mark and Hunter carried the prey they had caught earlier, Victor trudged behind them. Rose was waiting for them at the entrance of the box. When she saw them approaching, she immediately ran over to greet them.

"Welcome back!" She said happily. "Hunter, did you catch that mouse by yourself?" She asked, impressed.

"Sorta." He said through the mouse's fur. Rose gave him a questioning look, and he put his mouse down to explain. "I have yet to learn how to kill a mouse... Mark had to give it the killing bite." Rose chuckled, then looked to Victor. She noticed he was looking at his paws, a guilty expression on his face. She guessed it was because he hadn't caught anything. She walked over to him.

"Don't worry," She said reassuringly. "You'll get better at hunting with time." She gave his ear a quick lick. He nodded, but his expression stayed the same. He opened his mouth to speak, paused, then closed it again. Before Rose could ask what he was about to say, he turned and padded into their den. Strange, she thought. What could be bothering him? Hunter didn't seem too excited about his first mouse, either... She watched Hunter pad after his brother, dropping his kill as he went. She turned her attention to her mate, concerned. The expression he gave her was grave.

"We need to leave." He whispered, so the kits couldn't hear. "Smoky is dead. Violet, too. We are not waiting this out." Rose gasped.

"W-what?" She said, her fur starting to bristle. "No... Why would they...?" She shook her head, trying to make sense of what she'd just heard. "How can we leave now? The kits..."

"They'll be fine." Mark said. "Hunter can catch prey just fine, and Victor..." He cut off there and sighed. "I still think we could do it. It'll be hard, but we can travel somewhere else." Rose nodded and touched her tail to her mate's flank.

"I trust you." She murmured. "I go where you go." Mark purred. "When should we leave?" Mark tilted his head and thought.

"Morning." He said. "The kits need their strength."

"Alright," Rose replied. "But do you think-" She stopped suddenly. Her eyes widened.

"What's wrong?" Mark asked. She hushed him and adjusted her ears to listen down the alley. Mark did the same. What's that sound? He wondered. It sounds like... He gasped.

It sounded like claws scraping the pavement.

Somebody was coming. And fast.

He turned to get the kits, but Rose was already there. The kits were confused, but didn't argue as she herded them out of the den, urgency clear in the way she moved. The sound was getting louder. Closer. Mark thought he could hear voices and panting. "Come on!" He growled. "Let's go! Let's go!" But as the kits were just stumbling forward behind him, four shapes appeared at the end of the alley.


Redscrap's heart was beating fast. He could smell the scent of cats, not far. He sprinted, his patrol following close behind him.

They turned a corner.

They were getting close now. He could feel it. Smallpaw was breathing heavily at the back of the group, but Redscrap didn't slow. He unsheathed his claws.

"Think we're getting close?" Deadweed asked. Redscrap nodded. He could hear voices now. In the next alley.

Around another corner.

Splitear was next to him now. Redscrap turned to him. The brown warrior's eyes were full of anger. Redscrap leveled his gaze with his, daring him to say something. He was silent and broke eye contact, falling back beside Smallpaw. Redscrap snorted and continued forward. One more turn.

There.

Four cats. A large grey tom with a black marking on his neck, a brown and white she-cat, and two kits. They all turned towards the approaching BloodClan cats, bristling. Redscrap raised his tail to his patrol to slow. He narrowed his eyes.

"Good evening." He greeted, but there was no warmth in his voice. "I am Redscrap of BloodClan. Who are you?" The grey tom lashed his tail.

"Cut the bullshit." He hissed. "We know you want our territory. Well, you can have it. Just leave us alone and we'll go, we don't want any trouble. We have kits for god's sake." The tom's response surprised Redscrap, and he mrrowed with laughter.

Who is this cat? "Yeah, your right. We want territory. But we can't just let you go." He scoffed. "We have a reputation to keep, yeah? We can't just go soft all of a sudden 'cause you have kits." Redscrap looked pass the grey cat to the she-cat and kits. "And we need your blood to mark our territory." The two kit's eyes widened. He started stalking towards them. Deadweed followed, baring his teeth. Splitear froze, not wanting any part of the situation.

"Move it, Splitear, or you die with the rogues." Deadweed growled. He didn't have to say anymore. Splitear followed, ears down. Smallpaw hung back, but the warriors didn't notice. The grey tom narrowed his eyes and stood in front of his family defensively.

"Come any closer and you're dead." He hissed. His claws were unsheathed now, and his lips pulled back in a snarl showing two rows of sharp teeth. Redscrap hesitated for half a second, then he flicked his ears.

He's bluffing. He wouldn't risk the lives of his mate and kits. Redscrap took a couple more steps forward, and in a flash the rogue turned, picked up one of the kits, and fled with his mate carrying another. They headed down the alley towards the smaller thunderpath that ran through that part of the city. Thought so. "Let's go." Redscrap ordered. He started to run after the four cats, his patrol running behind him.

No mercy.


Author's Note: The layout of the city is clear in my head, but I'm not sure if other people understand it... Uh, does it make sense to you guys, or should I explain the setting better when I write?