If any of you are wondering, there's a very low chance I'm going to be switching the story back and forth from ThunderClan and BloodClan. I'm mostly going to be focusing on BloodClan, since that's where our three little newborn kits are at the moment.

FOUR
THE NAMING OF THE KITS

In the moments following after the white kit had opened its eyes, the puffy gray clouds shrouding the night sky loosened and spew rain upon the landscape. The dark gray and black tom looked at their leader with wide eyes. They were both wondering if the rain was his doing, to quench the flames that crisped their new territory. It wouldn't be a surprise...their leader was dubbed the "Master of Flames". It was true that their leader had experience with fire, knowing how to control its massive strength. This current fire he'd started with a Twoleg tool of some sort. He'd found a small box in the dumpster and emptied its contents, small wooden rods with cushiony red tips. Sulfur possessed no knowledge whatsoever of how to start a fire, and to tell the truth, he didn't want to. His leader might've been comfortable with flames, but Sulfur always felt nervous around them, as if they'd leap out and grab him. They looked as if they would; their writhing embers reaching and grabbing at the sky.

Scorn noticed their awed looks and spat at them. "It's not me, you fools," he hissed, lashing his tail with contempt. "It's been cloudy all night. I may be the Master of Flames, but not all fire-quenching is my job to do. I did, however, pick today because I knew that this would be a large fire to put out. I tasted rain this morning and had to organize an attack quickly." He turned on them, his cold yellow eyes narrowed with pride. "Skilled planner, aren't I?"

Though their leader was fearsome, he was surely an excellent leader. Ruthless, yes, and cruel...but very clever indeed. Viper and Sulfur were some of the best warriors in BloodClan, but Scorn definitely towered above them. He had been trained to be leader, after all, by the legendary Scourge himself. The creator of BloodClan.

Scourge had been an icy killer, raking his claws through flesh at the drop of a whisker. Scorn was a bit more careful than that, quick to put things together and talented at controlling things. There was one thing, though, that Sulfur secretly admired about Scorn...he had a sliver of a soft spot. Why else would he leave the frail tortoiseshell in the corner alone instead of killing her? And he could've batted the tom lying on the ground much harder. He could've easily killed him. If Sulfur had been bold enough to ask, he'd either get a fierce cheek scratch or a sneer and then, "Why would I kill them? They're completely helpless. And I might want them alive for later, since they're obviously the parents of these three kits."

Scorn, meanwhile, was watching the three kits carefully. She-kits...reminding him of his own two kits that his mate, Raven, had recently birthed. He liked Raven...explaining the reason why she was his mate...as she was a skilled fighter, perhaps not as skilled as Sulfur or Viper, but...she still tried hard. And she was ferocious. Instead of bowing to him like other she-cats might, she had confronted him and treated him like any normal cat. It was her daring streak that made Scorn respect her greatly. Yes, respect. BloodClan wasn't exactly the most love-laden Clan there was, so mates were more like very close companions. And his kits. He saw real potential in them. He knew that either his daughter Jay or his son Asphalt would be the next leader when his time passed.

While looking at the kits, Scorn noticed that they weren't completely ordinary-looking cats. The white she-cat's nose was twisted to the side a little, and it twitched constantly. The tortoiseshell's limbs were crooked, and one ear was a trifle smaller than the other. The black-and-white kit's front paw was stiff and limp, and Scorn predicted the little kit would have no use for it.

And while the white kit's eyes were captivating, he knew the strange color would make her a slight outcast. They didn't seem to possess any other purpose than a sign or a message of some sort. He was the Master of Flames, and her eyes were like small infernos. He knew what it meant- these kits were destined to be trained by him.

Viper jutted in, his green eyes quizzical. "Have you decided to name them, Scorn?" He gave his tail a gentle sweep, scattering dust over the kits.

Scorn studied the newborn cats carefully. He made a quick choice. "I'm going to. And, what's more, I'll even train them myself."

Sulfur hissed. "What?" he yelped, his back fur raising. "Why would you do that, Scorn? Treating these Clan kits as your own? You'll grow attached to them!"

Scorn dug his claws into Sulfur's tail. "Quiet, Sulfur!" he growled. "I don't need your feedback. These kits have Clan blood as it is, and I don't need any of you idiots being the one to train them. I will train them to be proper BloodClan cats. I may not be their father, but why shouldn't I be able to teach them?"

Sulfur, his tail now hurting on a number of levels, knew better than to protest. Scorn had made a decision, and that was that. Arguing a second time would be fatal, but Sulfur couldn't help but look at the kits and wonder. It'd been done before- kits would be scooped away from Twoleg nests and tossed to a random cat as their responsinility. Their leader couldn't care less about new recruits. Why wouldn't Scorn do the same with these kits? He'd been on the lookout for more kits lately, but after they were part of the Clan he never cared about them much. Sulfur let the thought slip away, like an unimportant memory. His leader worked in mysterious ways. Who was he to question his authority?

Viper slunk back to Scorn's side, glaring at the white kit. "I would keep an eye on that one," he mewed tautly. "Those eyes...they just aren't natural. I think something's wrong with them."

Scorn started with the white kit, since her name would be the easiest. He studied the white one's eyes; her fur. "Ember," he mewed. It was fitting. Her eyes, the color of leaping flame, tied with her fur, white as ash.

He looked at the black-and-white kit. What object did he know had the same hues? The image immediately came to him: a black night sky, dotted with white stars and a glowing crescent moon. "Night"...a time of sneaking and lurking. It would do.

"Night," he meowed, nodding at the black-and-white kit. He turned to the tortoiseshell. "And this one...Mist." He like the smooth sound of 'Mist' describing her foggy-gray coat. The dark, cloudy vapors that shrouded the Twolegplace on humid mornings.

Viper blinked in approval. "Those are good names, Scorn," he mewed. This was said truthfully, but one thing irked him...they were a bit more mild than the usual BloodClan name. Normal ones were "Scratch"..."Vulture"..."Blood". These ones sounded a bit more pleasant. But they did describe the kits. His only problem...Scorn seemed much more interested in the kits than he felt comfortable with.

Scorn picked up the tortoiseshell by her scruff. "Take one," he ordered to his deputy and warrior. "I want these kits back in BloodClan as quickly as possible. I will announce to the Clan that these are our treasures, our keepsakes...from ThunderClan. To show that we really have won this time."

Outside the nursery, smoke wreathed around the territory, billowing every which way. A few BloodClan cats were scattered here and there, marking the territory with their scent. A few warriors would have to stay in ThunderClan territory to ward off any cat who dared set paw on their land. Scorn had instructed them to rip any passing cat to shreds. This meant that Scorn would have to recruit more warriors as soon as possible. He needed to keep his Clan extensive.

A thought flickered in Sulfur's mind as he saw the BloodClan warriors marking the camp. He set his kit down, staring at Scorn, perplexed. "Scorn..." he started. "Won't the other Clans rebel? They'll be angry that we chased ThunderClan off, and there's no way our warriors could handle three Clans."

Scorn replied with a calm flick of his ear. "Three Clans? Pft. I assure you, I've taken care of that." He kept on walking, his tail held high. Sulfur wondered what his leader meant. He shrugged it off, picked up the kit, and followed him.

It was a long, dreary walk back to BloodClan's original territory. They wove through trees and leaves, wettened by the drumming rain, until they reached the slick, muddy black streets. The kits were getting wet, and they mewled. Scorn dug his teeth lightly into Mist's scruff. "Quiet," he growled, and the kit squealed, then quieted, apparently getting that he wanted silence.

Scorn was irritated. How could they handle thick smoke, but not a little rain? Strange kits.

The white one was no different from the others. Aside from colorful eyes, it was just as annoying as the rest. But the eyes had to mean something. It was a topic he couldn't ignore.

He waited until the metal machines on the road had passed, and then swiftly crossed. He darted through a few shrubs, a few broken fences, and then welcomed the putrid, urban smell that was home.

He eyed the dumpster ahead of him. Piled trash and slabs of wood curved over the hard, rocky space. Masses of Twoleg rubbish, chunks of powdery block and even some fallen trees, served as their home. Dodging a piece of falling trash, he navigated his way through the ruins and entered the dark, murky cave entrance. Only BloodClan cats knew about it. A rush of bittersweet smells hit his nostrils- the smell of scrawny, hungry, bloodthirsty cats, and of blood itself. The red liquid stained the walls, discolored paws, sat in puddles on the floor. The ceilings were surprisingly high, the walls lined with dirt and trash and leaves and branches.

This was BloodClan.

The cats turned his way, scarred faces showing many moons of battling for territory. Chicken bones littered the ground, and scraps of fur from prey leftovers. Their eyes glowed in the dark, wide, irises mostly engulfing thinned pupils. Their eyes were glued on the three kits that smelled so different from what they knew. Then, the gazes fixed on Scorn's face. Fear and admiration pulsating in their stares.

Scorn set down the kit. He let Mist turn over on her belly. Gently mewl. Scrape piteously with her pinky paws at the dusty ground.

Scorn raised his head, his ears turned forward. "We won."

Yowls of glee filled the walls of the gigantic den, sounding over the rain that beat fervently outside. Through the crowd, a glossy black cat slipped, a white marking over her left eye. Skimming past the three kits, she reared up and nipped Scorn on the ear. It hurt, but that was BloodClan love for you. Painfully affectionate.

Scorn couldn't leave the kits unmentioned. Nipping Raven back, he nudged the tortoiseshell kit forward. Sulfur and Viper did the same with Night and Ember. The BloodClan cats hissed in surprise as they caught sight of the white kit's fire-colored eyes. And, slowly, they noticed the twisted features on all three. And the ThunderClan scent. They looked at their leader, backs arched.

Scorn placed a claw on the white kit's back. "These are a few- souvenirs- I secreted from ThunderClan territory." With that, meows of delight echoed throughout the room. Scorn dug his claw into Ember, making the kit squeal. A drop of blood oozed out of the opening, dripping down the thin coating of white fur. Scorn smirked. Blood...the fluid all BloodClan cats loved to see gush out of fresh wounds. He licked it off his claw, savoring the metallic taste. "They are to show that we are no longer as weak as those filthy Clan cats think. We have taken some of their kits, and if they rebel, we shall not hesitate to to it again."

Raven hissed softly, using her long, thin claws to nudge Ember's small, furry body. "What's wrong with this one?" she growled, spitting at her uniquely pigmented eyes. "Does she have some kind of disease?"

Scorn had been watching, and the eyes didn't appear to be hurting the kit. They seemed normal despite the fact they were strange in hue. "We used fire to invade ThunderClan camp," he explained. "I found these kits lying in an abandoned den. They were newborn, it appeared. The father was awake, so I had to take care of that...and the poor mother was exhausted and was lying in a corner. Probably going to die from all the smoke. I had to put out the fire so the poor scoundrels wouldn't suffocate...and their kits, too."

"I've been searching for a few more kits, as you all know. These three just so happen to have warrior blood...and while that may not benefit to us, it may help them. These kits are named Ember, Night, and Mist...and do not be alarmed by Ember's eyes. I think they are merely a sign that they are the kits I've been looking for, and that they will make excellent BloodClan warriors."

A third cheer arose, but was quieted. Scorn wasn't finished. He looked down at the threesome of kits disdainfully. "These kits should've died in the smoke," he snarled. "But that is another sign. These kits are destined to be trained by the Master of Flames himself."

Instead of cheers, or even growls, there was quiet. A dark brown head popped up in the mass of cats. "But, sir...don't you already have your own kits to train?"

Scorn caterwauled a yowl. "Quiet, Kilo!" he demanded bitterly. "Don't you defy my decisions. If anyone else were to train these kits, they wouldn't do it as precisely as I would. I am not superstitious...and I don't believe in signs...but this is an exception. I have never before seen fire-colored eyes...nor have I seen the survival of such tiny, new kits in thick smoke for that extended of a time. It obviously means something, and I can't deny that. I will train these kits beautifully. Perhaps I will pass my knowledge of fire onto them."

All the while, Raven sat at his side quietly. Her green eyes were slit. Scorn knew that wasn't good. As the crowd of cats murmured around him, he bent down to where Raven was examining the kits. "What in the name of Scourge is the matter, Raven? Aren't you happy I found the kits I've been looking for?"

Raven flattened her ears. "Happy? Happy? What about our own kits? I'm entirely sure you're forgetting about them. I mean, teaching these forest kits about fire? That's what you said when Jay and Asphalt were born." She turned away from him. "You don't realize what you're doing. You idiot."

Scorn was taken aback at this. Lately, Raven hadn't been too fierce. Something had set her off. He peered into her eyes. There was something there besides anger. "Impossible...are you jealous?" He hissed. "That's so selfish."

Raven whirled around, scratching him on the cheek. "Who's being selfish?" she growled, and stormed off.

Scorn watched her go, and felt a pang in his chest. Raven was being stupid, he knew. BloodClan wasn't about their kits. It was about fighting for the good of the Clan as a whole! Even so, he felt guilty. But he wouldn't let his feelings show. He was Scorn. And he had to act like it.

Scorn picked up Ember, motioning Viper and Sulfur with his tail. Each of them bent down to pick up a kit, and then slunk after Scorn to the leader's den. The whole thing was covered in bones, and splattered with brownish red stains.

Ember, Mist, and Night were set down next to Scorn's nest. They immediately began to move around, mewling in thin kit voices that were barely audible. Scorn watched them, and laughed. "They are very lively, as well," he meowed. "Even without milk since they were birthed, they're still strong. They will be great BloodClan warriors."

Sulfur looked at his leader unsurely. He had seen Scorn's mate storm off. They had been in a skirmish about their kits and whatnot. Maybe he was getting too excited about these kits.

"Are you sure that these kits are good for our Clan?" Sulfur mewed. "Forest blood. It could be bad luck for us."

Scorn snorted. "Nonsense. I've taken care of everything. The mother and father would never dare come here to fetch their kits, and they're both probably dead anyway. Those lousy ThunderClanners would be run over by the Twolegs' machines as soon as they set paw on the road. They know nothing about here."

Viper piped up. "Then what about the other Clans? How could you possibly ward them off?"

Scorn snickered. "Ward them off? Why, they'll be agreeing with me. Have you seen the way that ThunderClan has treated all the other Clans?"

Viper hadn't. But the leader knew what he was talking about. He watched Scorn plop down into his nest and gnaw on a bone, wondering what he could possibly be thinking. He gave up and left the leader to chew his bone in peace.

Sulfur bounded up onto the slab of where Scorn's nest was positioned. "Shouldn't they have some milk?" he asked tentatively. "They'll die without it."

Scorn grunted in annoyance. "They'll be fine until tomorrow," he mewed casually through a mouthful of bone. "I'll find them a milk mother then. Right now, I want to test them to see if they're as immune to smoke as they seemed in ThunderClan territory."

The leader got up and leapt over to a pile of trash. He rooted through it, muttering under his breath. "Hmm...not here, not here...where the tail did I put them...?...ah, here we go. A nice full box, too."

Scorn pulled out a box made of Twoleg material, and ripped it open. A mound of small wooden sticks piled onto the floor. Sulfur's eyes widened. He recognized those. Scorn had used them to start the fire in ThunderClan when they were invading. He watched Scorn pull a piece of flat, woody-looking stuff that sparkled in the moonlight that poured into the cracks of the den. Holding one of the small, red-tipped sticks in his mouth, he scraped the red top against the thin slice of the tough, glittering papery stuff. Sulfur was a bit surprised as he saw a little orange flame twirl out of nowhere, turning the red head of the stick coal-black. He tossed it onto a small pile of Twoleg trash, where it crackled and sent sparks into the air, spreading its flames across the garbage.

Sulfur watched as Scorn plucked Ember away from the side of his nest and suspended her over the flames. He wondered if his leader was going to burn the kit.

The smoke density clouded the kit's face, the same as before. The difference: Ember instantly began coughing and spluttering.

Scorn pulled the kit away and dropped her. His yellow eyes were bewildered. "That's certainly strange," he mewed. "They weren't doing that before." He tried again with Night and Mist. Same thing.

Giving up, Scorn dragged a Twoleg container filled with muddy water and poured it over the small fire. It died down, fading away into illuminating red-orange glow worms that sizzled in the pile of now-blackened trash. Scorn seemed irritated, so Sulfur left. His leader was unpredictable; you never knew when you might get your intestines gouged by his thick, dog-tooth-reinforced claws.

Scorn tucked the kits away into a ball of dry moss to stop their mewing, and listened to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof above him. Usually he was active during night's hours, but it'd been a long fight and he needed to rest. A shaft of moonlight sliced directly onto his nest. Scorn peeked up, annoyed, and in that shaving of sky with the rain trickling through he was sure he could see the icy-blue eyes of Scourge.

Scorn blinked, and it stayed there. He shook away his bedding and straightened up, staring straight back at the cold, frigid blueness.

"I'll make you proud, Father," he vowed. "I'll be the best leader BloodClan has ever seen, you wait."

R&R.

Wow, that chapter seemed longer than usual. Oh well.

Question and Answer Time:

1. So...Ember seems Mary-Suish. IS SHE?
NOOO. She's just a "sign". And I have plans for her later on. Yes, she is the main kit in that group, but she will NOT be overly heroic, beautiful, perfect, or powerful. She will NOT be a Sue.

2. So Scourge IS Scorn's father! How did Scourge die?
It's a secret. For the whole story.

3. Will you ever say what happened to Reedtail and Gingerflower?
I might. But writing about ThunderClan is boring sometimes.

4. I thought you said BloodClan love was more like companionship. So why is Raven so emotional about it?
Raven is probably in "real love" with Scorn. She values their relationship more than he does. Haa, don't worry, Raven...he'll get it one day...

5. Who's going to be the next BloodClan leader- Asphalt or Jay?
I don't know. Jay is the girl, and Asphalt is the boy, and I was planning for a male leader...but "Jay" sounds a lot more majestic than "Asphalt", doesn't it?

6. Eew. Scorn uses matches to light fires? That's stupid.

Stupid, but I couldn't think of anything else. I'm not a fire expert.

7. (continuation of number 6...) ...He used water to put it out? That's ALSO stupid.

Well, what else do you want me to put it out with?

8. What is Scorn talking about when he says "The other Clans will agree with me"?
You can guess. But I won't tell you 'til the time comes.

9. Isn't burning trash toxic?
...It probably is. But let's pretend it isn't.

10. (confusing question with a confusing answer) Okay...if Scorn brought the whole of BloodClan to battle in ThunderClan camp, how come there were a bunch of cats when they came home?

Not all of BloodClan came. Then, when ThunderClan ran off, some of them stayed to guard the new land. Then Scorn, Sulfur, Viper, and some other BloodClan cats came home. Remember, BloodClanners are fierce and have big claws, so they can kill/fight easily.