Disclaimer: I do not own The Mr. Men Show or Warriors or any of their characters. But I own the idea for this story.
A familiar chuckle made them spin around to see a white she-cat with ginger paws sitting in the shadow of the tall boulder, uncertainty shining in her eyes. "Sometimes my magic surprises even me!" she remarked with an uneasy shrug.
Mr. Nosy and Mr. Small exchanged a glance, before turning back to Little Miss Magic. "I can tell not everyone's happy about this new place though," the Little Miss murmured, frowning. "I am sorry. I know my spells aren't the best sometimes, but this one… Well, I have a feeling that they will be angry with me when they find out that I did this to them…"
"It's not your fault," Mr. Nosy assured her, feeling sorry for her.
"My associate is right," Mr. Small agreed. "If it's anyone's fault, it's ours."
"Actually," the black cat meowed, shame washing over him," it's my fault. It was my idea for Miss. Magic to zap us the books."
And I'll never forgive myself, and I'm sure neither will our friends when they discover the truth: That I did this to them.
"Don't blame yourself, Nose." Mr. Small turned to his friend. "What matters right now is calming everyone down, not what happened in the past. It's too late to change our decision. Now we're part of a Clan, and we must teach our friends the warrior code so they are protected in this world."
"The warrior code?" Little Miss Magic asked curiously, leaning closer to the friends.
"We'll explain about that during the meeting," Mr. Small responded with an apologetic glance at her.
"Speaking of which," Mr. Nosy meowed, flicking his ears," shouldn't we start?"
Mr. Small nodded. "Yes." He looked around and added," Come, Nose. Let's call for everyone's attention."
As the two cats made their way through the crowd, their friends parted and kept their distance, as if they had just done something terrible. In their eyes, Mr. Nosy thought to himself, they have. He could feel the eyes of the other cats burning on his pelt. Was this how Tigerstar and Darkstripe felt when they were exiled and the Clan turned on them?
But we're not going into exile! he reminded himself.
Arriving at the boulder, Mr. Nosy tilted his head back to see the top of the towering stone before him. The Bramblerock, he now decided, noticing the vines and brambles growing at its base. Turning to Mr. Small, he whispered," Can you jump up there? Do you need help?"
The small cat shook his head, but then meowed," You go first."
Mr. Nosy nodded and crouched down, bracing himself for the jump. Then he pushed off the ground, launching in the air. He landed squarely on the top of the boulder. He peered down at his friend.
Mr. Small hesitated for another moment, then jumped, but he came up short and his back legs were dangling over the edge of the boulder, struggling to pull himself up. Springing forward, Mr. Nosy sunk his teeth into his scruff and lifted him up the rest of the way. Mr. Small found his footing on the smooth rock, and blinked at the black tom.
"Thanks!" he gasped.
Mr. Nosy purred in response.
Mr. Small walked to the edge of the rock, and, joining him, Mr. Nosy looked down, suddenly dizzy from the height. Crouching down on top of the boulder, he forced himself to look down at his friends.
"What's the name of the Clan?" Mr. Nosy murmured into Mr. Small's ear.
"Just follow my lead," he whispered back. He stood up and looked down at his Clanmates. "Cats of DillyClan," he began, raising his voice so that everyone could hear him. But he was interrupted by startled meowing.
"DillyClan?"
"What's DillyClan?"
"This doesn't make any sense!"
Mr. Nosy let out a wordless yowl, causing every cat to fall quiet. "We are trying to explain what's happening," he meowed as soon as he could be heard," and if you just listened, we'd be able to."
"Now that we have your attention," Mr. Small went on, dipping his head to his friend in thanks," I know you are scared that you woke up and found yourselves as cats, but—"
"Scared?" a ginger she-cat called out, hurt in her tone. "I'm not scared! If this is scary, then I love it!"
Mr. Nosy looked down at the cat who had spoken. Of course Miss. Scary would like this situation when everyone else finds it scary, he thought, frowning. She's not scared of anything, and she loves fear. But the others must be terrified and worried.
"As I was saying," Mr. Small continued, like Little Miss Scary hadn't said anything. "There's no need to worry or panic."
"No need to worry?" a tom with a neat black pelt growled, flexing his claws. A closer look showed that he had white rings around his dark green eyes and white fur above his upper lip that kinda looked like a mustache. "We're cats!" Mr. Fussy added with a lash of his tail.
"Exactly!" a mottled gray tom agreed. "We weren't cats yesterday!"
"Quiet down!" Mr. Nosy yowled, standing with authority on the Bramblerock. He didn't know what overcame him just then, but he was glad when none of his friends spoke out again.
Mr. Small looked anxiously at him, then turned back to the Clan. "We're part of a Clan," the small cat went on," so we must live as one. And since we know more about this life, it might be necessary to listen to us."
At that, meows of outrage exploded from below.
"Why do we have to listen to you?" a cat challenged.
"Yeah!" another agreed. "You're not the boss of us!"
"But in a Clan, there's a leader," Mr. Small protested. He opened his mouth to add something, but someone called out," And you think that should be you just because you read the books?"
Mr. Small hung his head, and Mr. Nosy realized that that was exactly what he had been thinking.
"It makes sense," Mr. Nosy jumped to his friend's defense. "We've read the books, so we know more about Clan life than any of you."
"I'm sure you're not the only ones who have read these books." Mr. Grumpy spoke for the first time since his quarrel with Mr. Nosy before the meeting started. He flicked his tail angrily and jumped to his paws, glaring up at the two cats on the boulder.
"Alright then." Gaining back some of his confidence, Mr. Small met the white-and-gray tabby tom's gaze for another moment. Then he scanned the crowd below him. "If there's anyone else who has read at least one book in the Warriors series, please come forward." He waited on the tall boulder beside his best friend, but nobody moved. He nodded and meowed," Right. Now can we continue?"
Mr. Grumpy narrowed his eyes and sat back down. He said nothing more.
"Okay." Mr. Nosy noticed the fur on his friend's shoulder bristling as if confronting the grumpy cat unsettled him. But another moment later, he relaxed. "Now, we're not calling ourselves the leaders of this Clan," the small tom explained," but for now, we are the ones who'll organize the patrols and stuff of the like."
By the confused glances the cats below casted one another, Mr. Nosy could tell that they had no idea what Mr. Small was talking about.
"In a Clan," Mr. Small meowed," cats patrol their territory from rival Clans. They also hunt in parties to gather enough prey for the Clan to eat."
"The Clan must be fed first, especially the queens and elders," Mr. Nosy added.
Mr. Small nodded and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a cat down below called out," All that sounds like a lot of work."
Looking down, Mr. Nosy noticed a cream-furred cat sitting on the edge of the crowd. He blinked lazily up at the cats on the boulder. Mr. Lazy, thought Mr. Nosy, remembering seeing him appearing from under a bush and joining the rest of the Clan in the clearing.
"Yes," Mr. Small responded with a calm expression. "Clan life is hard work, especially since we have to build a Clan from scratch. But thankfully you have us to guide you. Right now, let's just focus on renaming you all with Clan names," he added.
"Rename?" someone echoed.
"What do you mean?" another meowed.
"All Clan cats have special names," Mr. Nosy answered, still a bit hesitant.
"For example," Mr. Small mewed," a kit might be called Firekit—" If Firestar had been born in the Clan, Mr. Nosy thought—" and when he reaches his sixth moon of age, he'd take on the apprentice name of Firepaw. Then, after moons of training, he'd be re-named Fireheart when he's made a warrior. That'd be his name for the rest of his life."
"Unless he becomes leader, which then his name would end with 'star' or something happens that causes him to be re-named something else," Mr. Nosy meowed, recalling Brightpaw who had been named Lostface after a pack of dogs attacked her and left her scarred. But after Bluestar died and Firestar became leader, he had talked to one of the elders and then held a meeting in which he took away the horrible name Lostface and gave her the name Brightheart in remembrance to her bright spirit.
"What's wrong with our names now?" the mottle gray tom, Mr. Bump, demanded.
"Yeah!" someone yowled.
"We never said anything was wrong with your names," Mr. Small responded slowly, the tip of his tail twitching, but his voice was steady as he meowed," They're just not Clan names."
"Why do we need Clan names?" a dark brown she-cat, Little Miss Curious, asked.
"Because we're a Clan now!" Mr. Small meowed desperately. He turned to Mr. Nosy, his eyes begging for help, but Mr. Nosy knew he wouldn't like what he had to say. Ever since his quarrel with Mr. Grumpy and Mr. Rude, he's been thinking hard about this and finally it was time to tell his best friend.
Swallowing nervously, Mr. Nosy looked down at his small friend, then at the cats gathered below. "Actually, Mr. Small, they… they might have a point."
Mr. Small stared at him in shock. "What?"
Praying to StarClan to give him the right words, he meowed," It's unfair to ask them to change so much. I understand we are cats now," he quickly added when Mr. Small opened his mouth to argue. "But you have to understand how hard this is for them. You can't expect them to forget their old lives just like that."
"But they have to!" Mr. Small continued to insist. "This is how Clan cats live! We have to do this right!"
Mr. Nosy shifted his paws uncomfortably. He hated arguing with his best friend. "Um... no, we really don't…" he stammered. "It isn't going to affect our ability to survive here..."
"It might!" Mr. Small cried, staring wide-eyed at the black tom. "The Clans have survived for countless moons because they worked out the best way to live in the forest and if we want to survive, too, we must follow their example, which means following the warrior code!"
Mr. Nosy stared down at the gathered cats. All his friends stared back, watching the best friends' quarrel; some were shocked to see them arguing when in Dillydale they never disagreed with each other about anything; others looked eager as if they wanted the friends to fight. "Perhaps we can come to a compromise," he reasoned.
Mr. Small's ears flicked curiously. "What kind of compromise?"
"I say we try to live the same here as we did in Dillydale," the black tom meowed carefully. Mr. Small looked doubtful but let his friend continue. "The only difference would be finding a source of food and water and medical supplies. But I think we shouldn't have mentors and apprentices, and we should keep our names. However, we should have a leader to make difficult decisions. But we can discuss that later," he quickly added when the cats below started protesting.
Mr. Small still looked unhappy, but after a moment or two he finally nodded, and the gathered cats were murmuring to each other, some nodding, a few looking doubtful, but most seemed to understand this was the best option they had at the moment.
Now we must discuss some things before we get started, thought Mr. Nosy, signaling for silence so they can begin.
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