Hey. I am bored and want to type in this. I started writing it in 2018. I'm editing in 2021.
Prologue:
An icy wind blew through the forest, rocking trees to and fro and scattering dead leaves. A dark warrior padded through the forest, the wind ruffling his pelt and making his eyes tear up. His pawsteps were silent, and he paused every now and then to test the wind, until he reached a rushing river. There he waited. Only a few minutes later, a she-cat appeared from the other side of the river, her pelt turning silver in the moonlight.
''You came,'' She called with a purr of delight.
''I had to see you,'' The tom responded simply. The she-cat bounded to a stone sticking out of the middle of the river, and hopped from there to the other side. She pressed her pelt against his, her purr deepening in delight. The tom returned her affection, his pupils round with intimacy, as he entwined his tail with hers.
''I love you,'' The tom murmured into her ear. She blinked back at him with soft eyes.
''I love you too.''
Chapter 1:
The rain mercilessly pounded down upon the two cats below; As they padded silently through the forest, it seeped into their pelts and dripped from their whiskers, forcing them to blink the water from their eyes. They finally stopped at the edge of the forest. The tom nodded wordlessly to his companion, a she-cat holding a small, reddish-brown kit. She gently placed the kit down, flattening her ears as it almost instantly started to wail.
''Nettlesting, this can't be right! This can't be what Starclan wants,'' The she-cat cried, despairingly. Nettlesting fixed his hazel gaze on his paws, his pupils narrowing to slits.
''Starclan requires us to follow our leader's orders without question. We will do what Froststar tells us,'' He replied firmly. He led the way as the two padded back the way they came, their fur plastered to their sides. The kit stared after them in horror, its cries rising to petrified shrieks that clawed deep into the hearts of the retreating cats.
The kit's shrieks eventually died down to silence. It huddled, shivering, beneath a shrub. After the rain finally stopped, a silence followed. The kit eventually raised its head, turning its blue gaze to scan the forest. It took a few weary steps forward, careful to maintain the silence. As it padded on, the stony ground beneath its paws turned to dry leaves. A half hour into this endless march, the kit heard the sound of fast, heavy paws approaching. Its blue eyes widened with panic and it quickly dived into a patch of brambles. The pawsteps grew louder, until finally a ginger tabby she-cat trotted past, only a few steps from where the kit was huddled. She stopped suddenly, her ears pricked. Her velvety nose pulsed, and the kit ducked its head, knowing it had been scented. The bushes around it rustled and it gave a squeak of alarm. A ginger face with a white muzzle poked her head into the bush.
''Hey, there...what are you doing here?''
The gentleness behind the voice surprised the kit, and it hesitated a moment before bolting from the bush. The ginger she-cat called after it desperately, ''Hey! Wait!''
Not looking where it was going, the kit suddenly bowled into a large brown paw. A brown tom held the kit down with a sheathed, dark paw; every moment that passed made her struggles weaker. The ginger she-cat padded up to the tom, her green eyes wide with worry.
''Gingertip, where did this kit come from?''
The tom's voice was firm, but the kit could sense he was as confused as the other cat was.
''I found her in those brambles over there. Her fear scent gave her away. She just dashed when she saw me!''
The tom leaned down and pressed his nose to the kit's trembling flank. He raised his head again, frustrated.
''No way of telling where it came from now. The rain washed off its scent.''
The kit gazed up at Gingertip's white paws, feeling small under the two strong warriors.
''Alright, then we'll take the kit to Eaglestar. He will know what to do.''
''Troutbelly, you don't think that he will send the poor thing away, do you? Maybe it can stay in Sunclan!''
Troutbelly leaned down to fasten his jaws on the kit's scruff, flicking Gingertip's nose with his tail as he turned to head back to camp.
''I'm sure Eaglestar would never abandon a kit in the forest. Let's go and see what he has to say.''
Froststar gazed up at the waxing gibbous moon. The rain had stopped, and the storm clouds gradually had drifted away, yet the white she-cat had not moved in the past five hours. Nettlesting flexed his muscles as he clawed his way up the rocky slope to stand behind his leader on the small, mountainous ledge. He hesitated before calling out to her, ''I've done what you've asked of me.''
Froststar slowly rose to her paws, her white fur dull and unkempt. She turned to Nettlesting, her eyes dark blue flames.
''Is it dead?''
Nettlesting swallowed, lowering his head submissively. His voice trembled.
''I...me and Chestnutfur left it on the border with Sunclan...there's no way it can survive...all the elements of nature are against it.''
Froststar's eyes did not waver from Nettlesting's as she took a brisk step forward and slashed at his cheek with unsheathed claws. Nettlesting stumbled back, gasping in shock, feeling a trickle of blood start down his face.
''Swear to me by Starclan it's dead, and I will allow you to remain in this clan as my deputy.''
Nettlesting clenched his teeth together and forced himself to meet her fiery gaze.
''I swear it by Starclan!''
Froststar held his gaze a moment more, before turning back to stare endlessly at the stars.
''Good. Now get out of my sight.''
Nettlesting didn't hesitate to leave, bounding carefully down the rugged slope from rock to rock. He entered a narrow crack in the rocks, almost twice his shoulder length, where the Mountainclan camp lay. Wolfstreak, his brother, and Willowbreeze, Wolfstreak's mate, sat by the fresh-kill pile, sharing a chipmunk. Wolfstreak raised his head as Nettlesting passed, giving him a welcoming flick of his tail. Nettlesting approached the two with heavy paws; he just wanted to go to sleep in his nest, yet he knew his brother would want to know what was going on.
''What did you do this time? Froststar sure's got her tail in a knot.''
''I'm worried. She's never been this distressed before...Nettlesting, you look awful! What's wrong?''
Willowbreeze was known for her gentle concern and care for almost every cat, Nettlesting thought with a sharp stab of guilt. If she ever found out what he had done, she would be horrified. He sat down heavily beside the two.
''I've been punished already, okay?...I just want to rest…''
''I know you probably won't want to talk about it, whatever it is, but...the others are talking,'' Wolfstreak murmured, his hazel eyes blinking in understanding. ''I can tell them you forgot to take one of the patrols, or something…''
''I guess. Thanks, Wolfstreak.''
Willowbreeze nodded decidedly.
''I'll make sure he makes it convincing. Go and rest, Nettlesting.''
Wolfstreak playfully cuffed the black she-cat's ear, his hazel eyes glimmering mischievously. She roughly nudged him with her shoulder in response as Nettlesting turned to head to his nest, his tail dragging along the stone ground.
His father before him had been banished from Mountainclan. Too sensitive, Froststar declared, for he had refused to kill a trespassing loner. Tumbleclaw did things the way he decided was right, and this refusal was the last straw for Froststar. However, Nettlesting was ashamed of his father. His name was dead in the clan, and he left nothing for his remaining kin except questions and shame. And now, after years of proving himself, Nettlesting had made one careless mistake. And he felt broken. No, he determined; he would put distance between himself and what he had done. There was no other choice. He couldn't lose everything he had worked so hard for, or become the cat his father was.
''She doesn't seem to remember where she came from. She is barely two moons, and I don't think she has a name. No other injuries, just a tired, normal kit.''
Blackpuddle's amber eyes gazed expectantly back at Troutbelly, who gave her a grateful nod, as Gingertip hurried into the den with Rubblefall hard on her heels.
''I've fetched Eaglestar and Rubblefall,'' she gasped, still panting from her run. The small den was starting to become very packed, especially as Rubblefall entered, his thick fur brushing against the sides. Blackpuddle stood up, slightly annoyed.
''I only want Eaglestar and Rubblefall here right now. Gingertip and Troutbelly, thank you, but please leave.''
The two warriors dipped their heads respectfully and slipped out of the small den, which was under the roots of a partially overturned oak tree. Rubblefall moved aside as Eaglestar slipped in. The tall, lean tortoiseshell walked with dignity, his chin held high and tail lazily swinging back and forth behind him. He sat next to Rubblefall, his green eyes already measuring up the small, rust-colored kit. As Blackpuddle repeated her report to them, the kit gazed up at the two unfamiliar cats. Eaglestar had a long scar across his shoulders, yet the tom did not seem aggressive or intimidating to her. Rubblefall scared her more; the thick fur of the tabby made him look twice as big, and his yellow eyes made her feel very insignificant when he looked at her. Both Eaglestar and Rubblefall had claws worthy of some very painful wounds. She looked up again and realized all the cats were staring at her expectantly. She blinked in embarrassment, realizing she must have been asked a question. Blackpuddle was quick to repeat it.
''Eaglestar said you will stay in the clan for the time being. One of our queens will nurse you, and we will find out who your birth clan is.''
The kit lifted its blue gaze to look at each cat in turn before nodding. Eaglestar rose to his paws, his gentle green gaze meeting hers directly. He looked at her spotted reddish-brown fur, choosing his words carefully.
''Then from now on, you shall be known as Rustkit.''