Third Person POV
The gang of bedraggled rogues was clustered randomly in the alley as their leader took his place upon the tower of boxes.
The large charcoal tom lifted his head and watched them shiver against the cold. The high walls of the alley kept them from the harsh snows that blew by.
There was one good thing about the street life that no rogue could deny, it was easier in leaf-bare.
Better shelter, no dwindling food supplies. Two-legs still wasted scraps and rats had nowhere else to go. Sickness was eliminated before it could spread.
The Gang had lost a lot of cats to sickness already.
Between exhaustion and hunger, the weak could not handle the cold. Ethereal Dream and her sister Painted Dream had perished. Shadow, Shatter, and Mist were dead as well.
Today Bad Apple had business to attend to. He ignored the glares of the mothering cats, his mate and daughter- and one of his old clan mates.
He did not care about their scorn and upset over his decision. It was his decision, and it has been made.
"All young cats come forward." Bad Apple ordered in a cold, uncaring voice. The kits were merely three and a half moons. It was fifteen or so suns too early to give them to the ones who shall train them. He didn't care, it was fifteen or so less days he had to wait.
The five young cats came forward in an orderly manner, creating some sort of a line as they gazed fearfully upon their leader.
He decided with a glance, "Venom will go to Jaggedscar. Smolder will go to Meanstare. Viper will take Slice."
A moment passed before the tom finished the coupling. "Silas will have Crow, and Snare will go to Sparkclaw."
The young cats hurried to their new trainer's sides. Jaggedscar asked with neutral curiosity, "Bad Apple, why are you suddenly so keen on the gang?"
Just the night previous, the charcoal tom announced that there were no more rations. Eat as much and whatever you want. He made it clear that every cat was to spend at least half of the morning hours on battle training, because they needed to regain strength.
Bad Apple just smiled at his advisor- a deputy of sorts. He announced to the gang, "Newleaf will come upon us, as it always does."
Him actually answering a question rather then ignoring it caught ever cat's attention. He yowled, "With the start of the new season, a new dawn will break for all who are loyal to me. No longer will our pads be torn by the thunderpaths, or our pelts itching with mange and fleas."
His sinister red eyes sparkled with a fire that has been absent for many a moon. He snarled quietly, sending shivers down everyone's spines. "Before the season turns to greenleaf, the clans will be ours. We will be known as Bloodclan!"
His inspirational words send an energy coursing through the gang. No, the clan. The cats rallied together and yowled their support and enthusiasm to the sky.
Only one remained silent. One large, orange tabby tom did not cheer and screech in pre-deserved triumph.
The time was now. 'Bloodclan' was at their weakest, and it was his job to make sure they never gain the power Bad Apple needs to succeed.
When his comrades had all fallen into sleep, Silas weaved among them and turned his back on them as he darted into the night.
He would return come sunhigh the following day, but by then it will be too late. The plan was in motion, and this was a spiral Bad Apple will not have the strength to halt.
A/N: I know it's uber short. I'll be updating in a day or two to make up for that!