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aaaaHHH

RIGHT.

THIS WON’T DIE WHILE I’M HERE.

Is it saved? It’s fine if it’s not because it’s my fault anyway. 😛

But anyway, prologue. Should it be in Jingo’s group or something? Do you have any other ideas?
Right now I’m blank. 😛

And who should write it?

Jingo’s Group

LEADER
Jingo – Dark brown tabby she-cat with the tip of her tail missing.

ASSISTANT LEADERS

Copper – Pale ginger tom with darker tabby stripes.

Shade – Dark grey she-cat with amber eyes.

LEADER’S GUARD

Ani – Very pale grey she-cat with white-tipped fur and light green eyes.

GUARDS

Jet – Black tom

Flame – Lithe ginger she-cat with amber eyes
Trainee – Cypress

Speckle – Brown she-cat with darker flecks.

HUNTERS

Mist – Graceful silver tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

Frisk – Black-and-white tom.

Ember – Pale ginger tom with blue eyes.
Trainee- Thistle

CARE-TAKERS

Stream – Light grey she-cat with yellow eyes. (Guard)
Kits – Berry, Flower

Amber – Sleek black-and-ginger she-cat with bright amber eyes and a long tail. (Hunter)
Kits – Expecting Frisk’s kits

TRAINEES

Cypress – Pale brown she-cat with blue eyes. (Training to be a Guard)

Thistle – Grey-and-white tom. (Training to be a Hunter)

RETIRED CATS

Spike – Splotchy grey tom with spiky fur and blue eyes. (Former Assistant Leader)

Oak – Brown tabby tom with a thick tail. (Former Hunter)

Right. Here’s the allegiances, sorry for the wait. 🙂

Jet couldn’t move.
Figuratively, out of shock, and quite literally.

Cats were everywhere, fighting. In Jingo’s camp. Which explained the shock, seeing as the other cats had just strolled in and started attacking. Very casually. Also interrupting Jet’s midday meal.
As for the literally, Jet couldn’t move because he was currently pinned down to the mossy grass by a massive, burly she-cat. In his opinion, it was actually quite unusual. As far as he knew, she-cats generally weren’t built like this one. Of course, this train of thought was distracting Jet from the reality of the she-cat. And the fact he should probably be fighting back.

Realising that, Jet slid his claws out of his sheathes, wriggling his left front paw experimentally. It appeared to be the only paw movable, so he swiped at the she-cat’s underbelly, aiming at a particularly odd black splotch.
The she-cat screeched, and Jet smiled up at her sweetly.
Then the fight got real, because Jet began to focus.

Springing up with a small grunt, the black tom scanned the she-cat for weak spots, who was already in her fighting stance, teeth bared. Waiting for Jet to make the first move.

And he did. Rearing up on his hindpaws, he leapt towards her, raking his claws along her flank. The tortoiseshell let out a yelp, but wasted no time in retaliating with a blow to Jet’s cheek.
Pain seared through the spot, urging Jet on.
Summoning all his courage, Jet clamped his teeth down on the cat’s shoulder and clawed her back. His opponent returned the strikes, and soon the two were all-out fighting.

But soon another cat came to aid the tortoiseshell. This time, a light tabby.
Jet blinked, in horror and admiration at the cats’ preparation skills. After all, they were only a group of loners.
However, he soon noticed that he was in no condition whatsoever to fight the second cat, as well as the first.
So, pelt ragged and scarlet, Jet aimed a few swipes, weak and flimsy. The cats’ counterattacks
were by far stronger, though.
Jet felt his body freeze over in pain as he feebly swiped. And then, the black tom did it.

Jet gave up. He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t fight two cats in this condition.
With a final glare of icy hatred, he let every limb go limp, accepting each strike with a wince. Then he sprawled over, faking dead.
Pepper would’ve been ashamed if he’d been alive, which was why, for the first time, Jet was glad he wasn’t.

He hardly glanced up as the two cats padded away triumphantly to find another opponent. They didn’t look back once to make sure it hadn’t been a dishonest trick, luckily.
–
Soon, the fierce group they’d been fighting left. Just left. Because it was clear it was they who’d won the fight. Again, just like last time. And probably next time.

Jet struggled feebly to his paws, staggering over to where the others stood. Jingo was atop a rock, looking at her cats. No emotion was revealed in her gaze, but it made Jet shiver. Just like the thought of the other cats’ did.
“Cats. . . ” She began, sweeping her gaze over Jet. He tried to decode what was in her eyes, but he couldn’t. “They did it again.”
Jet twitched his ear. It sounded very undiplomatic, considering she was their leader, in his opinion. But it was true.

And they’d probably do it again in a heartbeat.

“Many died,” Jingo meowed. “Hussar. . . Merry. . . Pod.”
Silence followed her words. Jet’s heart ached with sorrow as he remembered the cats. Especially Hussar. Hussar, the cat he’d had a special bond with.
The cat he might have even. . . loved.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” Jingo finished abruptly.
More silence.
Shock.
Desperation.
Their own leader had given up.

“Jingo,” Fritz meowed softly. “Maybe we should leave. This group. . . they’re plain vicious, though they’re only former kittypets.”

Jet tilted his head, contemplating what the tom had just said. It certainly made sense.

“No!” Speckle stood from the back, slashes criss-crossing her pelt. “I won’t leave.”

Jingo shot a look of interest at her, before meowing, “We won’t leave. For now. But mark my words, if one more cats dies, I’m done. Begin grieving.”

The cats began to make their way to the bodies, all bruised and battered. They crouched over the fallen bodies of their friends and kin, some letting out soft cries of grief. Jet crept over to Hussar’s still body and buried his muzzle in his friend’s soft fur.

So, what do you think? Sorry for taking so long 😛

So, titles. I officially suck at coming up with these, and unless you want a mysterious one word title I think we should use a previous one we had. 😛 (And maybe tweak it a little? I don’t know.)