Chapter 1

Sunlight dappled the forest floor as a light breeze swept across the hollow, carrying scents of flowers and leaves. Scarlet crouched down, flicking her tail as she watched the mouse from a tail length away as it nibbled hungrily on a beechnut. Crouch. Wait. Leap. Bite. Storm's instructions played again and again in Scarlet's mind as she worked her claws on the ground. Why does hunting have to be so hard? She took a step forward.

Crack!

A twig cracked under her paw as the mouse took off almost immediately, bolting through the dense undergrowth. Flattening her ears, she took off after the mouse. Her paws hit hard against the ground as she maneuvered through the forest, the wind brushing against her pelt. For a moment she felt free like a bird, until she hit the tree. Pain surged through Scarlet's head as she toppled unsteadily onto the grass, watching as the mouse ran for cover into its burrow among the roots. Bristling, she hissed with annoyance.

"What do you think you're doing?" a familiar voice jerked Scarlet right up as she turned to see her father, Storm, with a squirrel. Scarlet ducked her head as her father's gaze burned her pelt.

"Stand up," Storm demanded as he poked Scarlet with a claw as Scarlet bolted straight up. "What do you think you were doing? You waited too long when you were watching your prey, and for goodness sake, were you looking at where you were going? You ran into a tree!" Scarlet looked at her paws in shame. Was her hunting really that bad? She looked up at the sound of pawsteps as her brother, Thistle, came bounding noisily into the hollow, his once soft grey fur now prickly with burrs, as he carried a mouthful of tiny shrews with him, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Scarlet's fur bristled. Even her useless good for nothing brother had caught something. Her brother! Just then, their mother, Clover, padded into view, a plump pigeon in her jaws. The brown tabby she cat placed her freshkill down as pressed against Storm, licking his ear, "Oh don't be so hard on her, Storm. They're still kits. Besides, Thistle and Scarlet are a bit too young to learn how to hunt."

Storm grunted, "What will the other group think when they see that our kits can't even hunt a mouse. They'll be ready to steal our prey anytime!" Scarlet opened her mouth but closed it again when she saw Sparrow running towards them. Storm ran to meet the young tom, "What is it? What happened? Speak Sparrow!" Sparrow drew in a deep breath.

"It's them! Thicket's cats! They are invading our camp!"

...

"Invading?" Storm gasped, he unsheathed his claws. "I'll be right there!"

"Yes. Hurry!" Sparrow gasped for breath as he ran away. Storm turned to Clover, "Keep the kits safe." He brushed his fur against Clover's and twined his tail with his. Clover breathed, "Be safe." Storm dipped his head as he headed towards where Sparrow had gone. Scarlet stared after him with round eyes, "Is there going to be a battle, Clover?" Clover's eyes softened, "Don't worry dear, your father is brave. He is going to be fine." Yowling broke out from a distant away as Clover stiffened, "We have to get back to the camp!" Scarlet felt a lump form at the back of her throat as Clover lifted her and her brother up by their scruffs and ran towards the camp.

Scarlet turned to see Thistle squirm under their mother's grasp. "What about the prey?" he whimpered as he batted the air with his small grey paws. Clover didn't answer. Leaves hit against Scarlet's face as they burst through the forest and out into a clearing. Camp. Just as Clover was about to run towards a juniper bush where they had usually rested during the night, she halted in her pawsteps and sniffed the air. Immediately, she swirled around to see a white and ginger tabby tom. The tom padded forward, a sly smile creeping up his face, "Hello, Clover."

Clover dropped her two kits. Scarlet winced as she hit the ground while Thistle whimpered with fear. Scarlet looked up, expecting her mother to calm them down but she barely took a glance at them. Instead, Clover snarled, "Blaze! What are you and your group doing here?"

"You know very well, Clover," the tom spat. "We are here to take back what's ours!"

"The forest belongs to us!" Clover snarled as she leaped at the tom with her claws outstretched. Scarlet fluffed up her fur in fear as she watched her mother wrestle the tom to the ground as the tom clawed her fur with razor sharp claws. Yowling and hissing ricocheted through the air as the two the cats fought for their lives. In the midst of the fighting, Scarlet saw her mother's head perk up, as she looked towards them, "Go! Run!" Scarlet looked at Thistle. Thistle looked at her with wide eyes as they bolted towards the juniper bush. Scarlet cowered deeper into the soft ferns that covered the ground as she peeped out from a small hole. There, through the hole, was their mother, lying on the ground unmoving as blood pooled around her. Scarlet's mouth quivered, "Mama?" Thistle pressed against his sister, as if he had seen the same. They watched with wet eyes as a grey tom, their father, his fur matted with blood as protruded from the thick undergrowth and ran towards their mother. They watched as he struck his claws across the tabby tom's neck as the tom ran away. The air thickened with grief as their father crouched beside the still body of their mother, yowling his head off as he buried his face in the tabby she cat's fur. Scarlet felt tears form in her eyes.

Clover was dead.