I don't own Warriors or The Hunger Games. Or the information on the Clans I got from Code of the Clans.
On an island in a lake, the caterwauls of cats echoed through the air, ripping apart the silence. The Dark Forest had won! The Clans had failed. The three had failed. And now, Tigerstar, Brokenstar, Maggottail, Snowtuft, Mapleshade, and all their cronies would take six from each Clan for a game of blood, battle, and mercy! Dovewing laid her head on her mate, Bumblestripe. "Remember the last Gathering?" She sniffed. "Tigerstar announced the 'Warrior Games'. Cats from each Clan will be taken away to fight in a bloody battle for the Dark Forest's amusement!" Bumblestripe closed his eyes. "Yes." He had a bitter look on his face. "Cats of all Clans!"
Tigerstar had the look as if he had just spotted an unexpected juicy piece of prey. "We have chosen the cats who will fight." Dovewing let out a squeak. "No!" Tigerstar's amber gaze locked on the group of ThunderClan cats. "First." The caterwauls continued. Tigerstar flattened his ears and hissed. "Shut up!" The cries stopped. "Now, since your Clan is pitifully ginormous, you will sacrifice six of your cats. Dovewing bowed her head. Six Clanmates spared for the entertainment of the Dark Forest? She closed her eyes. What if they all died? "ThunderClan are impressive hunters. I'd even say I'd envied them at one time. They have the skills to make themselves silent and invisible so they can hunt the little creatures that scuttle through fern and fallen leaf. You've heard of the hunter's crouch, yes? It is a ThunderClan trick, and it's not used by any other Clan."
"Dovewing." Mapleshade croaked with a voice cracked with age. "The she-cat with the powers." A gasp came from Dovewing's throat. "No!" Dovewing yowled. Her world spun around her, and she felt sick to her stomach. Whitewing closed her eyes and bowed her head in pain. The white she-cat licked her daughter's nose. "Be strong, my little child." Whitewing meowed. Dovewing touched noses with all her family members, then padded forwards. Brokenstar examined her with narrowed eyes. "She'll hold up for a while." He declared. Then he turned to Snowtuft.
"Greystripe." Snowtuft croaked with the same cracked voice as Mapleshade. "The cat who mated with a RiverClan she-cat." Blossomfall, one of the Dark Forest's recurcits, also Greystripe's father, scratched the ground with her claws, but she was far too high in the ranks of the Dark Forest for her to challenge her rank. Greystripe touched noses with Millie, his mate, and padded forwards. Snowtuft blinked. "Stand by her." He nodded towards Dovewing. Once the grey tom was standing next to her, the cats began to call out the tributes again.
"Hazeltail." Brokenstar murmured. "The she-cat who was born in a barn." Daisy screeched out. "No, don't go!" She called. She lunged forwards and started to lick the warriors' fur. Hazeltail rolled her eyes and broke free of the cream she-cat. Daisy hung her head and slunk back into the ranks of the ThunderClan cats. Hazeltail's grey and white fur shone in the moonlight. She sat down on Dovewing's other side and started to lick a paw. Brokenstar blinked, as if he couldn't belivethat a cat would pad up so casually. When the ragged tom discovered Dovewing was staring at him, he whipped his head back towards the Clans.
"Daisy." Tigerstar streched out the word. "The useless she-cat from the Horseplace." Daisy had a look of terror on her face. Dovewing shook her head. Daisy wouldn't last a minute. Amused purrs came from the Clan cats. "She'll not last a heartbeat." Squirrelflight said, voicing Dovewing's thoughts. Daisy walked forwards, the fur on her spine bristling. When the cream she-cat had gotten up to sit with her kit and two other warriors, she started to look around, as if she expected for something to jump out at her.
"Millie." Maggottail purred. "The kittypet who came to the Clans." Millie let out a hiss at the sound of the name "kittypet". She walked forwards and climbed the slope to get up onto the tree, and sat next to Greystripe. Millie whispered something in her mate's ear. Greystripe let out a curt nod. The two grey cats sat with their heads bowed. Dovewing rolled her eyes. So many cats bowing their heads!
"Last but not least, Squirrelflight." A brown tom with no fur on his tail said. "The cat who went on the quest to drag you all to this swampy lake." Squirrelflight whipped her head into the air. "You know, Shredtail, you've been on a quest before, haven't you?" The ginger she-cat said with mockery in her tone. Shredtail beckoned her forwards. Squirrelflight pranced right up and swished past Shredtail. She took her place next to the other ThunderClan cats.
"Next is RiverClan." Shredtail announced. "You will only produce four tributes. Sad indeed. I was hoping to see your fishy blood spill onto the ground. Very well." He coughed. "These cats are born with a love of water not shared by any other Clan. This means they alone can take prey from lakes and rivers, which means they go sleek and well fed, while the other Clans go hungry."
"Reedwhisker." Mapleshade yowled. "The- the- the . . . um . . . loyal deputy." She stammered as if she couldn't find out a pro for the black cat. Reedwhisker hopped up onto the tree. "I look forward to fighting you all." He meowed to the ThunderClan cats. Daisy flattened her ears. "I do not." She mewed. Reedwhisker clawed his way to the branches up high and sat four branches above the cats of ThunderClan, as if couldn't imagine getting near them.
"Petalfur." Snowtuft meowed. Dovewing let a cry slip from her jaws. Her beaver dam friend! "The beaver dam cat." He finished. Petalfur tried to claw herself up the slippery bark, but her claws kept slipping off. "Here," Dovewing mewled. She reached a paw down. "grab onto me." Petalfur took a large leap and dug her claws into the grey she-cat's leg. Dovewing hauled her up. This is probably my last act of kindness before I have to battle this cat. Dovewing thought sadly. Petalfur nodded and went up to her deputy, and licked his nose. Are they mates? Dovewing twitched her ears. Like me and Bumblestripe . . .
"Grasspelt." Brokenstar mewed. "The . . . um . . . uh . . ." He was lost for words. Grasspelt growled up an answer. "Good warrior!" She growled. "Good warrior." Brokenstar finished. Grasspelt moved one paw and then stormed up the tree. "I will kill the other tributes." She mumbled. Grasspelt got up to her Clanmates and turned her back to the Clans. "Ha ha ha!" Dovewing purred. "She has anger issues." Greystripe cast her a worried glance.
"Mossypaw-" Tigerstar started. "Mosspelt, thank you very much!" A tortoiseshell she-cat hissed from the base of the tree. "Mossypaw isn't me!" She was halfway up when Tigerstar finished his sentence. "Mosspelt. The queen who can't seem to stay away from a tom. What a wonder she isn't dead from the loss of blood during her kittings!"
Dovewing ran the names of the cats in the games so far. Me, Greystripe, Millie, Hazeltail, Daisy, Squirrelflight, Reedwhisker, Grasspelt, Mosspelt, and Petalfur. The shock of pain she had when she had first heard of the games spurted through her again. All going to be slaughtered in this bloodbath. She closed her eyes. "I will miss them all. But I will meet them in StarClan again!"
The other cats down below the Great Oak were sitting with their ears up; as if they expected the cats of the Dark Forest to kill them if they didn't listen.
"ShadowClan." Tigerstar purred. "Ah, those evil cats! Their hearts have been chilled by the wind that blows from the mountains, and every kit is schooled to share his Clanmates' hunger for battle, for more territory, for the warmth of blood running beneath their paws. Six tributes for you to spare." He flashed a look at a brown tom. "It's alright, Toadfoot, I'm just repeating what is told in the nurseries of the other Clans, though I don't like it myself."
"Toadfoot. I was going to choose Tigerheart, but you seem to enjoy the thought of blood." Toadfoot had a look of pure terror and anger on his face, while Tigerheart had a look of pure happiness and joy. The pair's emotions faded after they discovered the other tributes staring at them with a blank look. Well, ShadowClan don't show their emotions enough. Dovewing thought. Do they ever show their emotions? Toadfoot padded up the ridge and leaped onto the branch on the other side of RiverClan.
"Ratscar." The Dark Forest cats seemed to have stopped announcing the pros about the cats. "You trained with us; didn't you? You must be the only cat who will want to fight in the games." Ratscar flinched. Obviously, he wanted to forget the time he was so foolish enough to train with the dark hearted kitties. He stood for a moment, then scrambled up the tree. "I'm going to forget this ever happened after I win." The brown warrior whispered, then joined his Clanmate at the ShadowClan branch.
"Crowfrost." A black tom with white tipped fur Dovewing did not know scrambled up onto the branch. His yellow eyes were narrowed into yellow slits. His fur was spiky and grey around his muzzle, though her couldn't be very old. His black pelt would blend in with the undergrowth. Dovewing would be careful not to forget he was black.
"Owlclaw." Another tom Dovewing didn't know ran up. He was brown with blue eyes. His head was hung low, and his eyes- windows to the soul- had the look of a cat who carried a dark secret.
"Olivenose." A she-cat walked up and clawed her way up the branch. Yes, Dovewing didn't know her. What was the point of knowing a cat you didn't know if the cat was just going to kill you or die, anyway? Oh well. Olivenose had a slicked black pelt, burning amber eyes, and sharp claws that looked as if they could rip your pelt off in one slice. Dovewing would have to watch out for this she-cat.
"Tawnypelt." Blossomfall had the honour of announcing this cat. Her tortoiseshell pelt blew in the wind. In the moonlight, tribute and announcer looked almost exactly the same. Bramblestar, Rowanclaw, Dawnpelt, and Tigerheart all were bidding farewell. Then the tortoiseshell she-cat leaped up to sit beside her Clanmates.
"WindClan." Mapleshade rasped. "You are not weakened by the fact Brokenstar drove you from your home, or willingness to make alliances that will protect your borders. There is a great difference between being weak- which your Clan is not- and being vulnerable, which is the price paid living on the moor. This Clan has spent many moons learning how to survive in the open, where speed and a sense of danger count more then stealth and stalking skills. And they are nearer to StarClan-" She spat the word StarClan "up on their hill beneath the sky; perhaps that is why their warrior ancestors have spared them many times over."
"Ashfoot and Crowfeather." Ashfoot, the WindClan deputy, padded forward, flanked by her son and her cousins' father, Crowfeather. The dark smoky grey tom had his head held high, and his eyes gleaming. It was as if he wanted to fight. But surely, no cat would be that depressed that they'd be happy to die? Woah . . . Dovewing thought.
"Whiskernose and Emberfoot." A ginger tom and a tom hidden in the shadows leaped forwards and placed themselves next to their Clanmates. Tigerstar said there would be twenty four tributes, not twenty! Dovewing thought, puzzled. "Now for a special appearance for our last tributes: SkyClan!" An impatient Mapleshade yowled.
Four cats with strange scents padded forwards. "These will be your SkyClan tributes." Mapleshade explained. "Two are half-kittypet, and some are full warriors. She-cats and gentletoms, please welcome Billystorm, Ebonyclaw, Cherrytail, and Sparrowpelt!" Some cats snickered at the name "Billystorm". It was pretty funny.
Some cats hearded up the tributes. "Come on; we're going to get you ready for the games!" A she-cat called. Dovewing heard Tigerstar's voice one last time: "Your mentors will be waiting on the train. May the odds be in your favour!"