I deleted the old one because I had to edit a few things, but now it's up and running.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN WARRIORS OR ANY OF IT'S CATS. I just manipulate the hell outta them. :3

Oh… and no offense to Russians. It has to do with the plot later. Well, if this story even has a plot.

Please, no flaming.

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After class, Firepaw went to search for his tormenter… with a permanent marker. (ZOMG. The plot thickens)

Darkstripe was just about to enter the restroom when Firepaw barrel rolled into the scene. Darkstripe reared onto his back paws to bat the psycho cat away, but Firepaw evaded the tabby cat's claws. He sunk his teeth into the dark cat's pelt and scratched at his belly with the marker, leaving permanent marks. And those don't come off. Anyway, Darkstripe died of ink poisoning and Firepaw got sent to the office.

Obviously informed of his notorious deed, the principal, Bluestar, looked at him through narrow slits. "I demand an explanation for this." She meowed in a heliumated voice. Confused, Firepaw looked at her stapler, which hid her stash of deflated balloons. Ignoring her weird habit, he meowed,

"He called me smelly!"

"Oh, OK. You may go then." She meowed with a grin.

"Cool."

Firepaw turned to leave, but winced in pain when he felt a sharp pain in his back. The principal punched him. He turned to see the principal in a laughing fit on the ground. Choosing to ignore the awkward sight, he left the room.

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"Hey Firepaw! Nice feet." mewed Cinderpaw.

"OK. Thanks."

"Do you mind if I sniff them?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Uh… Sure?"

"Awesome."

-----

Am I the only sane cat in this school? He thought as he entered the classroom early. One of the second years was talking to Lionheart.

"No! I swear! The Russians are going to bomb us!" The large, dark tabby yowled.

"It's OK, Tigerclaw, I'm sure they won't. Just… study for the next test... please."

"But… the Russians…"

"Calm down and take a seat. We've had this conversation many times."

Tigerclaw lowered his head and padded back to his seat.

Listening in on their conversation, Bluestar sighed in relief before slipping away into the shadows suspiciously.

-----

The bell rang. It was lunch time.

"Hey, Firepaw. Sit with us, OK?" The familiar meow belonged to Cinderpaw.

"No. He's going to sit with us!" Protested Sandpaw.

"No. He's going to sit with ME." Bellowed a large, fat, tortoiseshell cat.

"Uh..." Firepaw looked at the plump cat. "Who are you?"

"Duh, your biggest fan, Spottedleaf."

"Oh… I think I'll sit with Cinderpaw."

Lunch time was hectic. Rabid female cats were arguing about who would sit next to him the next day. He sidestepped to avoid a clump of fighting she-cats as they rolled past him. Firepaw turned to the gray cat beside him, "Uh… What's their problem."

"Since you killed that stupid Darkstripe cat, all the chics are after you. Right now, you're the alpha male." Cinderpelt meowed nonchalantly.

"Oh." Firepaw liked the sound of that. Alpha male. He beamed at the thought.

Nice ending for chapter two, eh? –is sarcastic- Anyhoo, read and review please. n.n