Characters: (only those who appear in this chapter)
Blood Clan:
Baylor: Captain of the Guard; tom; white pelt with a gray spot on his neck, back, and flank, he has brown paws and ears. He also has one black spot overlapped by the gray one on his shoulder, his eyes are a bright green; massive and muscular
Rogues:
Maple: shecat; a deep mahogany pelt with golden swirls, a white chest, muzzle, paws, and tail with one red spot at the end of it. She has soft blue eyes; petite with long legs
Snake: shecat, daughter of Baylor and Maple; a long golden pelt with darker golden/mahogany swirls, a white chest, paws, underbelly, underside of tail and tip of tail. Also has bright green and lively eyes with silver woven into them and dark brown ears; petite with long legs
Ace: tom, son of Baylor and Maple; has a thick dark brown pelt that darkened into a black as it neared his belly and down his legs, his face is black with dark brown tabby markings strewn across it, has a single white paw and soft blue eyes; Massive like his father
Soot: shecat; daughter of Baylor and Maple; a long silvery smoke pelt with dark gray paws and tipped tail, has white tipped ears and muzzle and a dark gray spot on her shoulder like her father's, one eye is soft blue and the other a green; petite with long legs
The Rise of Snake:
The air was thick with moisture, fog creeping steadily through the moor into a worn barn. The paint was peeling off in small strips, and the wood had gaps between the boards. In the barn rusted equipment and moldy hay lay strewn across the floor and up against the walls, and if you looked past it, up on a loft, you would see a litter of three kittens; two shekits and a tom. The runt of the litter, a shekit, shivered from the dew that beaded on her thin pelt. She mewled in protest, and crawled over her sister feebly to snuggle between her and their brother. She relied merely on scent to guide her, for both her ears and her eyes were still closed off from the world. She was barely three sunrises old. The kitten called out for her mother, yearning the warmth and milk she had to offer. The kit's siblings soon joined her.
Familiar steps joined them onto the loft, and the kit felt gentle rasps on her forehead. She opened her small jowls showing her soft pink mouth and long white teeth in a mewl. Maple trilled, and curled around her litter directing each of them to a teat. She smiled warmly as they each suckled greedily. She raised her gaze and looked longingly out into the moor towards the woods; she wrapped her long and soft tail around the litter protectively. Where are you Baylor? Tiny paws kneaded her abdomen, and three small sets of purrs filled the air. Maple couldn't help but to look lovingly down at her kits. By now, their pelts were really beginning to show and she could pick out the differences and who had what. The tom reminded her of Snipe, and a pang of sadness struck her heart. She knew he would've loved them, and she yearned for her brother. She let out a languishing sigh, and began to groom the tom. He even smelled a little bit like Snipe, she fought the urge to run into the city, and wander the streets looking for him. She knew he didn't survive, but there will always be that ray of hope that he somehow lived through the slashing claws and punishing teeth of Reaper. Reaper Maple could feel a small growl rise in her chest.
A board creaked and she snapped her head up, ears perked and eyes keen. Her tail fluffed up, hiding her kits beneath them, and she pulled them closer to her belly. Images of Reaper, as silly as it may have seemed, filled her mind. No, he's dead… He can't hurt my family anymore… Maple shook her head as if all the horrible images would fall out and leave her alone. She scented the air, Baylor! "Maple?" She heard him call out, uncertainty and curiosity laced in his voice. Her fur lied flat, Baylor will protect us, and Reaper is dead because of him. Hush kits, all is well… The runt began to squirm around, sensing her mother's anxiety.
"Don't worry love, were up on the loft" She heard him take a deep breath, and waited anxiously as he clambered up the ladder and heaved himself onto the loft. Baylor dropped a squirrel at his paws and took in a sharp breath, holding it for a moment. Maple lifted her tail away from her abdomen, revealing the three tiny bundles, still suckling greedily. The runt had gone back to her meal, and seemingly forgot Maple's flash of paranoia. She kept her gaze on him, and watched as his eyes melted into soft pools. His tailed raised in greeting and he trotted over to her pressing his muzzle into her neck. Maple began to trill and she gave his ear a small lick. Baylor rested himself on his paws, trapping the kits between him and her in a secure embrace.
"They're beautiful Maple." His voice cracked, and Maple was taken aback since she had never seen him break, ever. Baylor stared at the kits, taking them in for the first time. He looked closely at each of them, I'm a father… He couldn't believe it.
"Baylor…" his gaze didn't shift from the kits "I wanted to name the tom Ace." He slowly looked into her eyes, and he could see pools of emotion swell up in them. He swallowed his emotion so that he could comfort her and began to groom her forehead.
"After Snipe," he murmured gently. "I think it's perfect."
"It's the name mom gave him, before he was taken." She closed her eyes tightly, fighting back tears. It was still too soon, even though he was killed nearly four moons ago. Baylor understood, he watched his own sister die too young because of Reaper's infatuation for the spill of blood… She had been too confident, and in turn he placed her with a seasoned guard to battle until one could no longer stand. Her spine was snapped, and she was battered and taunted for two sunrises until he finally had to put her out of her misery. He never told Maple this, for he didn't want to reopen old wounds… Her name was Viper.
"I think the gray one should be Soot, she looks like she treaded in it." Baylor looked back down at his kits, in attempt to lighten the mood. The silvery shekit stopped suckling, and fell asleep. Maple nodded, blinking her eyes quickly to clear the sadness from them. "And the third, well… What do you think?"
She looked down at the frail kit, at first Maple had doubted that she'd make it through the night but somehow she pulled through. After a moment, she finally looked up. "Snake… Her fangs, they're like those of a snake's." Baylor nodded approvingly, slightly taken aback by the coincidence. Maple yawned deeply, clearly exhausted from long nights of mewling and demanding kits. Baylor chuckled lightly and then rested his head on her paws, so she could rest hers on his shoulders. Maple smiled gratefully as she laid her head on his broad shoulders, and lost herself in his deep purr.
Snake took in the scent of the strange tom beside of her, and she felt a pull to him. She struggled to move herself off her mother's teat; she still hadn't gained much mobility. Snake dug her face into his fur, which was thicker than her mother's. He smelled a little bit like Soot, and she enveloped herself into his fur drifting off into a light sleep. Baylor opened one eye, surprised and warmed by this tiny kit embedding herself into his belly. He cleared his throat, trying to hide the awkwardness he was experiencing, and forced himself to relax. Snake let her tiny purr rise in her throat and Baylor smiled lovingly, he still couldn't believe it. How can I protect them? He thought back to Fallen, who had a little too enthusiastically taken Reaper's place. Cathair had retired from his duties, and was allowed to remain in BloodClan as an advisor for Baylor. Of course, he had ranked up to Captain of the Guard and his forces all had a deep respect for him… Except Fang, but he expected no less. Fallen had kept most everything the same, but now he was speaking to Cathair about the possibility of moving their clan to the woods a good quarter moon travel from here. He wanted to send out two patrols, one seven sunrises apart from each other, to go and scavenge the area. Some rogue had visited with tales of the place, and Fallen was immediately hooked. If Reaper was still around, Fallen would've been left for the dogs to play with by now. His head pounded, plagued by the concerns he had… How could he protect his kits and Maple if he was many sunrises away? He couldn't, and the kits were much too young to travel. Also, the risk of them being discovered would be too great for them to try and follow the Clan.
Snake let out one of the smallest mewls Baylor ever heard, and all of his worries melted away. He closed his eyes, imagining many moons ahead, he would be teaching his kits to fight and hunt. Snake may not be good at either, being so small. Baylor rebuked the idea, no cats had ever or will ever, with his blood coursing through their veins, be a poor fighter. Just wait, she'll grow to be the best of the litter he thought confidently. Feeling her unproportional paws, much too large for her body, knead against his belly, he knew he was right. All in due time. His father's words rang through his mind, and he remembered back when he was a kit trying to fight. He would trip over his over sized paws, and he could recall his frustration. But his father was right, Baylor grew into them, all in due time.
Maple's breathing slowed down, and a steady rise of her chest accompanied it. Baylor closed his eyes, and he too lost himself in dreams if the future… his kits and Maple chasing each through the Moore, hunting expeditions, and make-shift battles.