Well, that was easy! Manglethorn thought. He grabbed both kits by their scruffs and leaped away from his trap. The two big kits squirmed under his grip, and he bit in harder. "Ow!" The brown kit yowled. Manglethorn growled beneath the heap of stinking WindClan fur.
They're going to hear those two mange-pelts if they keep screaming like this! Maggottail screeched. Run away, Manglethorn!
—.—
After the morning patrols and the early work, Manglethorn have been charging into WindClan territory for the next mission. Hold some cats hostages. Lure the deputy and Laurelleaf's father to their deaths. Attract Laurelleaf to a destined edge. Fight. Apparently, what could be better lures than kits? Cats would be out searching for them in less than a sunrise. Surely, Swiftrabbit and Midgepelt would be among those cats? Even though Manglethorn have spent very long trying to find a huge, plump rabbit in leaf-bare to attract the two adventurous WindClan kits, he succeeded. His hard work paid off; he had to make the excuse of going into a hunting patrol with some cats to Oakstar and sneak off camp by himself. He had to risk his life hunting in another Clan's territory and find prey that was bigger than usual. Finally, he caught those two kits out of luck.
The kits struggled under his cold grip but he didn't stop. Rage burned deep in his heart of what he was supposed to do and the pressure triggered his temper. He turned and fled into the far distance, brushing the kits on the grassy floor occasionally so he could lay a perfect trail. The kits whined and screamed, but Manglethorn held no pity. He shook them by their scruffs like prey and bit hard when they're getting too loud, and the kits soon grew tired and terrified from their sudden attacker. "What was happening?" The white one mewled. Manglethorn huffed through the white one's fur. He instantly shut up.
Somehow, the two kits reminded Manglethorn of his own three kits, but that only made him more determined. He wasn't going to hurt those kits—but he needed them for the mission.
A thought flashed in his head: the kits' mother, crying out in despair, calling out to everyone of her lost kits. A patrol setting out to rescue them, then losing two cats in exchange for two.
Manglethorn shrugged the regret away. He needed to do this.
Grass tore at Manglethorn's claws as he edged closer and closer to ShadowClan territory; he knew the whole mission would mean a much harder battle if ShadowClan cats found two WindClan kits and the ThunderClan deputy at their border, but Manglethorn growled. Thoughts were distracting him. Maggottail wouldn't be happy.
The Thunderpath spread out in front of Manglethorn soon enough. Ash-dusted air nearly choked the tabby tom. A disgusting stench wrapped its pelt around the black, stony path, causing all three cats to wrinkle their noses.
"This place smells yucky," the brown kit whined. Manglethorn shrank from a roaring monster who passed and started digging at the polluted dirt next to the Thunderpath. When it was big enough, he laid the two kits down and covered them up with his own body.
The brown one instantly started scrambling up and trying to escape, but Manglethorn pinned him down. "You are not going to escape," he hissed. "Wait for your Clanmates to come first." The brown kit tried to bite his paws, but Manglethorn used his other one and swiped it across the brown kit's muzzle with a snarl. Unsheathe your claws! Maggottail ordered. The white kit gasped in horror as his brother fell beside him, gasping as twin lines of red etched his face.
"He's a killer," he gasped. "But Wingkit, I'll protect you."
Manglethorn snorted and lashed his long tail. The regret he felt earlier seemed to disappear as he clawed the earth. Anger thrived deep in his heart when he thought of the point of the mission: to kill the cat who's trying to stop you.
"Pitiful kits," he grunted.
That's right, Maggottail sneered. The wind swirled and a cat materialized from it. Maggottail's spiritual body appeared next to Manglethorn. Now we just have to wait for their gullible Clanmates.