A.N.:Thanks to all those who reviewed! Sorry I haven't updated in a few days. Also, I posted a poll on my profile, check it out! Go vote!
Brightheart emerged from the warrior's den into the gloomy, overcast morning. The events of the gathering two nights ago came flooding back into her mind. She let out a sigh and walked over to the elder's den. One-eye and Smallear were still asleep, but Dappletail was awake, sitting at the entrance to the den.
"Good morning, Brightheart. You're up early!" observed the elder. Brightheart let out a drowsy purr.
"I could say the same thing to you. Would you like me to get you some fresh-kill?" Dappletail shook her head.
"No, Brightheart. The rest of you need to eat, since Bluestar barely lets anyone out of camp any more. We're too old to worry about. I'm sure the Queens would enjoy it." Brightheart opened her mouth to protest but was silenced as Dappletail slapped her tail over her mouth.
"No arguing! You're supposed to respect your elders. Now go get something for the Queens!" Brightheart bowed her head and walked over to the fresh-kill pile where a pair of rogues were stuffing their faces. A mottled black tom with gray eyes looked up from the rabbit he was eating.
"Bluestar said no more then three warriors at the fresh-kill pile a day," he said gruffly.
"Unless you'd like to come...hunting...with me?" Brightheart didn't like the tone of his voice. Before she could think of a response, the second rogue, a tabby with green eyes cut off his partner.
"Ripfang, knock it off! She's too young!" The black tom glared back at him.
"Shut it, Doomeye! I didn't mean it! I just like to mess with her!" Brightheart decided now was the time to interrupt before she got involved in an argument.
"Please, it's not for me! It's for the Queens!" she put in. Brightheart knew that no other warriors had gone to the fresh-kill pile that day, it was just that the rouges wanted more for themselves since they didn't have to hunt and they could sit there all day if they wanted, taking food from the mouths of kits and apprentices. The surviving warriors took turns going hungry while the rest of them shared one piece. That way, everyone else had an opportunity to eat.
"Fine...here!" the black tom snorted, throwing Brightheart the skinniest, smallest mouse on the pile. Brightheart quickly grabbed it and moved away before he could change his mind. She pressed through the branches of the nursery to see the two surviving queens. Speckletail looked up as she entered, her belly swollen with her upcoming kits. Willowpelt was telling her kits a story.
"...so the Tigerclan warrior killed the wild boar, Rage. But when Fleetfoot looked up, she saw Rage's mate, Fury. Fury was twice as big as her mate and twice as powerful, charging towards her. Fleetfoot was exhausted from the battle and wasn't sure she could kill the monster..." Willowpelt looked up.
"Brightheart! How nice of you to come! Thank you for the fresh kill." Brightheart set the mouse down between Speckletail and Willowpelt so they could share. A dark gray and blue-eyed kit, Ivykit, ran up to the mouse before hissing in frustration.
"Just look at this! There's not a decent mouth full on it!" Her other two sisters, Copperkit and Salmonkit, voiced their displeasure at the lean pickings.
"Why can't you get you get us something we can actually eat, instead of the rogue's scraps!" Ivykit hissed, rounding on Brightheart.
"That's enough!" their mother hissed.
"Brightheart is doing the best she can! We're all hungry! You should be thanking her!" The kits let out muttered apologies before Brightheart cut them off.
"No, you're right. I'll go see if Bluestar will let me go hunting." The white and ginger she-cat turned and left the den, padding across the clearing to where Bluestar sat, staring at the ferns. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that Bluestar was actually watching a spider as it wrapped up a fly in it's sticky webbing.
Brightheart stopped a few tail-lengths from her leader and pressed her self to the ground, just as Bluestar had commanded her warriors to approach her, and dragged her belly through the dirt the last few steps until she reached her leader, keeping her face lowered toward the ground.
"Why is it that a lower form approaches me?" she mewed quietly. Brightheart took a breath and responded as the warriors had been ordered to.
"Oh master, I wish for the privilege to venture out of camp to hunt. Please spare me punishment for this inconvenience to you." Bluestar pressed her forepaw onto the top of Brightheart's head and pressed her muzzle down into the dirt, causing her inhale a lung full of dust.
"The master grants you permission," Bluestar said. Letting Brightheart up, she flicked her tail toward the black rogue at the fresh-kill pile.
"Ripfang, you will be this lower form's guard while she is out. You may have one quarter of whatever she brings back in exchange for your inconvenience." Ripfang abandoned his thrush, since he finished his rabbit, and stalked over to Bluestar.
"I humbly thank you letting me enjoy a portion of the fresh-kill Bluestar. I can't remember the last time I have eaten. Thank you for allowing me to have the strength to serve you." Bluestar nodded, satisfied.
"You may go," she meowed. Brightheart padded out of camp with her guard close behind. She didn't feel comfortable with the stares the rogue was giving her. After catching a mouse and robin, the she-cat padded through Tallpines. Dropping into a hunters crouch, she snuck up on a squirrel. But before she could spring, a large weight rammed into her from behind and pinned her to the ground. At first, all Brightheart could see was the canopy of the forest with the squirrel running up th side of a tree. Its alarm call frightening away any prey in the area.
"Foxdung!" she hissed. Brightheart looked up to the smug face of Ripfang hovering above her. Without an explanation, Ripfang shoved Brightheart underneath a elderberry bush before re pinning her with a more firm grip. Brightheart hissed and struggled against her captor with no avail. She stared into Ripfang's eyes.
"What do you want?" she snarled. Ripfang stared at her as if she had grown two heads.
"You," he said as if it were obvious. He shoved her paws aside and pinned them with his own, leaving her under belly totally exposed. Brightheart's eyes went wide with fear as she realized what was about to happen.
"Please...no..." she begged weakly. The rogue's smirk just became wider.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. I make sure you stay alive for a good while. You're lucky I've picked you, being the ugly, deformed tramp you are." Ripfang pressed his belly against Brightheart's. The she-cat let out a silent prayer to Starclan and shut her eyes tight. The torture began.
A.N.: If you don't like the idea, don't worry about it. I don't plan to get any more descriptive with it. You guys know what to do and you know how to do it, review! No flames! Don't forget to check out the poll on my profile. Every vote counts!