These miscellaneous stories all have to connect somehow. Here it is, in this strange climax of events: the epic tale of KittyClan...
Chapter Six - KittyClan
In which a certain ginger tom goes missing, and his mother rises up against the society
Nutmeg sat, rather bored, in her garden. She had just taken a nap, and wasn't tired enough to take another one. Vaguely, she wondered how her kits were doing. Six or seven moons ago, she had given birth to Jake's kittens, and about three moons ago, they had been taken away from her. Maybe she ought to check up on them.
She stretched, then hopped up onto her fence and began to wander. She smelled the faint scent of her mate: Jake had passed by this nest recently. Maybe he knew where some of their offspring would be.
Nutmeg followed his scent for awhile, then finally caught up to him.
"Jake!" she called out.
"Nutmeg!" the ginger tom said cheerfully. "How have you been? How are the kits?"
"Oh, my Housefolk gave them away a few moons back," she said carelessly. "I was actually wondering if you knew where some of them were."
"Hm, no," Jake said regretfully. "You might want to ask around, though."
Nutmeg spent the next several hours searching for her kits. She found two of the five, and heard of two more. The last one, who looked most like his father, she couldn't find any trace of.
Until she met Smudge, a young, fat black-and-white tom. He said her son—Rusty—had ran away to the forest. This greatly alarmed Nutmeg. Her son in the forest? Those terrible wild cats would eat him!
She quickly ran away, trying to find Jake. However, he seemed to have disappeared. Several other kittypets noticed her distress, and quickly agreed to help when she explained her situation.
"I've heard of those awful wild cats," she told her companions. "They're terrible—they steal kits and they call themselves WeaselClan!"
By then, many cats had gathered to listen to Nutmeg speak. She told them of how long WeaselClan had kitnapped from the Twolegplace, and now they must have taken her son.
"We must join together, to find our own Clan!" Nutmeg shouted. "We must take back our kits... we must become KittyClan!"
There was a rousing cheer of "KittyClan! KittyClan!" Nutmeg was elated. She must have half of Twolegplace behind her!
The next few days were a blur. KittyClan, surprisingly, stayed together. The cats of Twolegplace were genuinely angry their kits had been stolen, and they were ready to take them back.
KittyClan was planning an attack.
The night of the battle arrived. Nutmeg was nervous: she had never led an army before. But she was still determined to save her son Rusty.
She and her army "snuck" into the forest. What a wonder they must have been to any Clan patrols who saw them go their way!
They wandered around for quite awhile, enough time to make it to the moor. There, they witnessed a furtive exchange: two cats bargaining over a kit. A kit that smelled of the Twolegplace.
Enraged, KittyClan attacked. They didn't know how to fight, but there were only two cats. Within moments, the two WeaselClan cats were dead.
Onewhisker had no idea what was going on. WindClan had just been driven from their camp, and next thing they knew, they had run into a war party of kittypets!
Tallstar's orders were to avoid any fighting, but that soon became impossible as the crazed kittypets attacked their warriors. Soon a battle raged around them. WindClan was faring poorly, though only because they were still weak from being attacked by ShadowClan.
In the midst of the battle, Onewhisker ran into a small brown tabby she-cat.
"Have you any idea what's going on?" he asked her, panting.
She snarled at him. "We're getting revenge on WeaselClan for stealing kits!"
"What?" he replied blankly.
"Nevermind," she hissed, then went back to attacking him.
Twotail had never been a good warrior. She had never been a good cat, honestly. She would have made a much better being if she was separate, not a combination of Two and Tail.
Unfortunately for Two, Tail was in charge on the day of the battle. She had always been too confident, and the two of them were already weak from the earlier battle...
Two's life had just been turning around. There was a handsome young tom in her Clan that had decided to try and overcome her problems. He didn't love Tail—he loved Two. It was impossible, but they could have worked. Maybe.
It was all Tail's fault.
The body they both shared was soon lying dead on the ground.
They both went to StarClan—but at least they went separately. Two was Two; Tail was Tail. They were not the same anymore.
Still, what a life wasted...
Redtail was dead by then. He was confused, along with the rest of StarClan, about the battle. It made no sense to anyone—and how could kittypets be beating seasoned warriors?
It was before his parents' confession, so he didn't really care.
Some WeaselClan cats heard of the battle while it was still occurring. They managed to make it to the end of it, fresh reinforcements, though no one involved honestly knew what was going on.
Bluestar wasn't quite sure why certain members of her Clan—the ones that most often disappeared randomly—came back with wounds, but she didn't really want to know. Some secrets were best left unspoken.
One good thing came out of all this madness: WeaselClan disintegrated. The fear of another attack from vengeful kittypets was enough to stop them.
And—hopefully—the world will never know such insanity again.