Warriors Fan Fiction

Welcome to the new fan fiction page! Post your fan fiction in a comment box below to share it with BlogClan. Have fun and keep creating.

Nobody will stop you from creating. Do it tonight. Do it tomorrow. That is the way to make your soul grow – whether there is a market for it or not! The kick of creation is the act of creating, not anything that happens afterward. I would tell all of you watching this screen: Before you go to bed, write a four line poem. Make it as good as you can. Don’t show it to anybody. Put it where nobody will find it. And you will discover that you have your reward.

Kurt Vonnegut

(You can find the Old Fan Fiction Page here)

  20,168 Replies to “Warriors Fan Fiction”

  1. Eagleclaw
    October 19, 2019 at 11:29 pm

    So, particularly for those of you who like Pokémon, I’ve been writing a Pokémon FanFic using my own region and own characters. A chapter is below, if this is of interest to you. I’ve been publishing the chapters on FF.net so far, but if this gets enough likes or just general positivity, I’ll publish them on here too.

    FF.net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13355260/1/Pok%C3%A9mon-Infinite-Legacies

    Enjoy! (I would normally italicise certain elements, particularly any internal dialogue, but it’s late here in the UK! They should hopefully be obvious enough, tho.)


    Although not his native city, the streets of Festivalight City were always a sight to behold. If Flame hadn’t been so eager to start his journey, he would have been entranced by what was around him: the marble-white buildings, built thousands of years ago but still worth their salt today; decorative flags hanging from building to building and wrapped up and around slim street lamps, each a different colour from the last that came together to form a rainbow of colour everyway you turned; the smoky aroma of chargrilled meat and fish coupled together with sweet spices and flowers, fragrant and colourful, fluttered in the light breeze in mini gardens that bordered both street and building. Litten, padding along beside him, looked equally captivated, sniffing the air and eyes sparkling.

    Flame paused, looking up. Ahead, at the centre of the city, stood a statue that towered over all else: the Guardian Angel of Festivalight. Even if the passing of time had scrubbed away all colour from the now white- and cream-coloured statue, the statue of Zeurelic was still impressive with wings, gigantic and feathered, outstretched to protect all those within sight from harm. Flame wondered of Zeurelic’s power and was captivated by the sight, however much of a speck the statue was from where he stood. He was unable to take his gaze away. Unable to resist. It was as though Zeurelic was right before him, and he was forbidden to look elsewhere.

    Flame scratched his head. What am I thinking? That’s impossible . . . right?

    Meanwhile, Litten couldn’t care less and, having been confined to Aconite’s laboratory for most of his life, had decided to take a closer look at a bed of strong-smelling flowers, sneezing in response and then mrrowing in surprise and slight embarrassment.

    “Our guardian angel of Festivalight has much ability to inspire,” someone said nearby. If Flame hadn’t been mesmerised, he might have had the shuffling of feet that had marked the stranger’s leisured approach.

    “Huh,” Flame responded instinctively, broken from his trance. “What?”

    Litten, hearing his trainer’s voice, looked back toward Flame and wrinkled his nose at the old human who approached.

    The stranger crossed her arms. “Kids these days,” she tutted before adding, “I said: Our guardian angel of Festivalight has much ability to inspire! Ha! And they claim old people are deaf.”

    “Oh! Sorry!” Flame apologised hastily. How long was I staring at that statue for . . .?

    The stranger wagged her finger at Flame, left to right, then vice-versa, and so on. “You’re forgiven, I suppose. But this time only,” she said, quick and a little threatening, truth be told. And when she added, “I can’t make allowances,” especially so.

    Flame glanced toward Litten, who had returned to being distracted by the sights and smells of Festivalight. Next on Litten’s agenda was a vendor selling fresh fish. Litten hadn’t yet grasped the concept of money, and with the innocence of a new-born was licking his lips and was about to jump onto the counter and take a bite, when Flame hurried over. “Litten,” he called. “You can’t just grab food.”

    Litten, still not up to speed, tipped his head sideways as if saying, Why can’t I, Flame? It smells delicious.

    Flame sighed. I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, aren’t I?

    As though understanding, Litten meowed in response (or perhaps it was another attempt to plead, to get permission to jump up and take the oh-so-delicious-smelling fish)—but unless science miraculously evolved, we can never know such a thing.

    “I’m sorry,” Flame apologised to the vendor, a little embarrassed. “This is Litten’s first time out of his Poké Ball, you see.”

    The vendor smiled, to Flame’s surprise, and offered the fish to Litten anyway.

    “How much?” Flame responded.

    “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house. And this is too: our finest kebab.”

    Flame smiled and thanked the vendor; Litten did the same with an enthusiastic mrrow.

    “No worries,” said the vendor, handing trainer and Pokémon two disposable but recyclable plates. “Just tell all your friends that we sell the best fish in Festivalight, and then we’re even!”

    “Will do!” Flame assured the vendor before enjoying the taste of the kebab as he tore into the meat.

    Litten seemed similarly satisfied, having pawed at the fish curiously and then wolfing the small sea creature down in quick time after a sideways glance at his trainer.

    Flame smiled at Litten. “Tasty, right?”

    Although Litten clearly agreed—Litten’s response was a delighted purr—Flame wasn’t sure Litten had quite grasped the concept of money. That’ll be something to teach, Flame thought, as well as battle moves, of course—but that’s all part of being a Pokémon–

    Flame gasped in surprised. “What was that for?” he snapped. “Haven’t you heard of something called personal space?”

    The stranger had approached him again and poked him in the ribs with a thin, bony finger.

    In an ideal world, Litten would have roared at his attacker and leapt to his defence like a Cosmog evolving into a Solgaleo. But, in reality, Litten mrrowed mischievously, far too amused for Flame’s liking.

    “Hey!” Flame complained. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

    Litten tipped his head again and made eye contact with his trainer—confused, maybe?—although Flame suspected Litten understood quite clearly in fact and that his Pokémon was trying to look cute again to distract from the fact that the small Fire-type had laughed at his trainer’s embarrassment.

    You might be a handful, Flame realised. But then . . . I wouldn’t have it any other way!

    Flame now turned his attention to the one who’d caused Litten’s mischievous side to fully surface. “What’d you do that for?” he snapped.

    “We hadn’t finished our conversation, had we?” she snapped back. “I know many things, and for a young trainer like yourself, it might be useful for you to learn more, especially if you’re interested in–”

    “Hmm . . .” Flame contemplated, assessing the stranger properly for the first time. She was an elderly woman with long grey hair, a crooked nose, and an old necklace. A tattered dress covered her scrawny figure, of which looked like it hadn’t been washed for quite some time. Flame’s final assessment was: Must be crazy, and One to avoid.

    “I should be going,” he announced. With a theatrical stretch of his arms, he tucked hands into pockets and began to stroll away. “Pokémon to catch, trainers to beat, badges to collect.”

    It took Litten a moment longer to figure out what Flame was doing, but once his trainer had taken a step away, he quickly whisked around and did the same (but without the pockets).

    Although Flame’s assessment had been thorough (or so he thought!), he had missed the bright glint that now shone in the elderly woman’s sky-blue eyes. “So, I take it you don’t want to hear the story of that Pokémon—you know, the one whose statue you were staring at for so long, hmm?

    This recaptured Flame’s attention. “I know a little already,” he admitted, turning back around. As did Litten.

    “No one knows all—not even me. But I can tell you what I know . . . that is, unless you’re too busy with—what did you say? My hearing isn’t what it used to be—catching Pokémon, beating trainers, and collecting badges, hmm?”

    Flame smiled a little. Maybe crazy’s not so bad after all. He glanced at the distant statue, then at the sun, and decided his journey could wait for ten minutes or so: “Sure, lady. I’ll listen.”

    Flame thought he saw her smile at that, but if she had, it had only been for a moment. “Well,” she started, “you’d better listen good as I won’t repeat myself.”

    Flame nodded, eager to hear more than he already knew of the legendary Zeurelic.

    “Zeurelic was here from the start. At the origin of our region. And still Zeurelic’s legacy lives on through our hearts and minds, infinite. In the beginning, the world was dark; life was scarce. Legend says that the first settlers of the Ciprys region were hunted down by dark forces. Eventually, so few of the settlers survived, they believed their end was close; life wasn’t worth living. And so, they prepared for their final stand.”

    “At this moment of desperation, Zeurelic appeared before their leader who, despite the darkness, still clung to hope, to what little light remained. Zeurelic joined the settlers, persuaded by this hero; they were worthy, Zeurelic’s heart believed. And so, the Great Battle raged across Ciprys; Zeurelic, aligned with the Hero, clashed against the Darkest Among Them atop Origin Mount for eight days and eight nights. When the sun rose after the eighth, the settlers, who had emerged victorious in their own battles, found that Zeurelic too had won, and the Darkness that had enveloped Ciprys was no more—just as, despite all their searching, was Zeurelic. Only the Hero had remained on the Mount, unable to recall how the battle had ended.”

    “To honour Zeurelic, whose intervention had saved them all, the Hero and the other survivors founded the village of Festivalight and, though it seemed Zeurelic had left them, the magnificent image of their saviour still burnt in their minds, everlasting. They came together and then decided to build a great statue of Zeurelic, as a mark of respect, and if the day came, however unlikely, when Zeurelic returned to them, to show the legendary creature that its help had never been forgotten by those past, present, and future.”

    “The statue took many years to build and was a great expense to Festivalight, but was a brilliant sight to behold when it was finished. ‘Zeurelic would be proud,’ the Hero proclaimed to those who gathered around the colourful monument, those old and those new. Ciprys may have been safe, and the people of Festivalight happy, but the Hero still wondered of Zeurelic, their saviour, and the immense bond they had shared for so short a time. Despite everything else that came after—Ciprys, marriage, children—the Hero still wondered.”

    “Now an old man, and on the anniversary of Zeurelic’s victory, the Hero returned to the peak of Origin Mount. The sun shone and the sky was clear; while before this sight was clouded in darkness, now there was light. It is said, though it can never be known, Zeurelic returned that day. The Hero spoke to Zeurelic, old friends reunited, and Zeurelic shared wisdom beyond the Hero’s wildest imaginings. Zeurelic spread its energy over the land and the sea, in a final act of kindness, and is said to have been spotted over Festivalight that day—perhaps observing not only its monument but what the people had created since his disappearance. The Hero had watched Zeurelic’s kindness from atop Origin Mount, and knew he could do nothing more for his region; Zeurelic’s wisdom was something no mortal being could keep contained. It was time. Zeurelic and the Hero disappeared as one.”

    “The Hero was gone, but Festivalight went on. The generations that followed remembered Zeurelic’s kindness and the Hero’s courage. They rejoiced as the earth smiled, yielding excellent crop, and as the ocean sparkled, yielding fish after fish to hungry townspeople. Years passed, generations fell and rose, the village grew to a town, but still Zeurelic’s kindness and the Hero’s courage was remembered, and although Zeurelic remained a legend, some said at night and in the day they could see eyes reflecting back at them from the forest and the grass that grew to surround the town. Zeurelic’s fate was uncertain, but Zeurelic’s presence over them wasn’t. The statue turned also into a shrine, even as the town became a city and as the future came more boldly forward. Yet still at the centre of Festivalight was Zeurelic, the Guardian Pokémon.”

    “The legend of Zeurelic and the Hero had spread across the Ciprys region, and some tried to search for Zeurelic with little success; some were dishonest in their intentions, seeking the power of creation that Zeurelic was rumoured to possess. They did not return, but the ones who went forth with honest intentions did return after moons of travel, tired and reluctant to express the nature of their journey. Even now, there are still some that desire the power of Zeurelic.”

    “Festivalight City and the Ciprys region; you and me; the Dark and the Light; everything that exists around us; what is the past, what is the present, and what is the future—this is not only the legacy of Zeurelic, but the legacy of the Hero. And still their legacies endure today, infinite.”

    Disappointment flooded Flame’s face as the epic story ended; he wanted to know more! He’d heard the story many times before—in a History of Ciprys class—but never like this and in as much detail. “Woah!” he exclaimed. “I’d love to meet Zeurelic someday—they sound like the coolest Pokémon!”


    “Oh, yeah,” Flame acknowledged, choosing his next words with extra care. “But no offence, Litten. Remember I could have chosen 20 other Pokémon, but you were my pick after all.”

    “Mrrow,” Litten responded, chin raised and sounding satisfied with his trainer’s reasoning.

    Flame looked at the old woman. “Do you think Zeurelic’s real?”

    “I’ve told this story many times,” she answered. “But I’m never 100% sure. It would be something special if our beloved, Zeurelic, did exist, but after thousands of years,” she sighed and shook her head slightly, “I can’t be sure. I know what age can bring—the good and the bad. Yet there is a part of me that is convinced Zeurelic watches over our city even now.”

    The bright optimism of youth sparkled in Flame’s eyes. “Well, I think Zeurelic must be real,” he argued with heartfelt certainty, turning away from the elderly woman and toward the Monument. Litten copied Flame’s movement just a second after and both trainer and Pokémon took in the sight of the legendary Pokémon for a second time that day. “Why else would Zeurelic’s statue exist? Besides, if your story is true, then Zeurelic must be, like, super strong.” He thought of the most legendary Pokémon that they had learned about at the Academy. I wonder, Zeurelic. How strong are you? Does your power match that of Mewtwo, Ho-oh even, or how about Arceus?

    Perhaps, again, Flame’s gaze was too absorbed in the mesmeric sight that was the Guardian Angel, or perhaps other forces were at play, but when Flame turned back around, the elderly woman who had shared such a vast amount of knowledge with him was gone, as quickly as she’d arrived.

    Flame was surprised. He whipped his head around in every direction, as did Litten, but neither could spot her. Admittedly, it was odd that she’d left without saying goodbye, but in a big city like Festivalight, Flame had quickly learned in his three years here that people were often busy. He presumed the old lady had realised the time and had had to dash off somewhere for something—besides, talking to him wouldn’t have been on her to-do list, would it? He just wished he’d gotten the chance to thank her for the great story. If I see her again, I’ll make sure of it! he promised himself, however unlikely it was to happen.

    Now that he thought about it, he wondered what the time was. He took out his phone and checked the time. “30 minutes!” he exclaimed.

    Litten just mrrowed, as if it was obvious.

    “Time flies, I guess. C’mon, Litten. We better get going!” That story was sure worth it, though.

    Flame reminded Litten to, “Stay at my side, especially since it’s busy,” and told his mischievous companion, “Don’t go bothering anyone for food again. If you’re hungry, tell me,” before again setting off for the nearest Pokémon Centre, his gaze to the sun and his heart burning with the hope that one day he too might, like the Hero of Ciprys, get the chance to meet the legendary Zeurelic.

    • October 20, 2019 at 12:18 am

      I liked the story! It was a nice read 🙂


      • Eagleclaw
        October 20, 2019 at 12:35 am

        Thanks, Rainie! 😀 Pleased you enjoyed it.

    • October 20, 2019 at 4:12 pm

      Ooh pokemon! 🙂

      Greetings Fellow Earthlings

  2. October 20, 2019 at 9:49 am

    Chapter Ten

    When I come back out of my room, the sun has dipped below the horizon, blanketing darkness over the sky. Stars shimmer, far above, only mere specks from here.
    Everyone’s in the kitchen. When I get in there, I cough at the sudden smoke that fills my nostrils.
    “Taco fire,” Aurielle explains, as if this is supposed to clarify everything.
    I say nothing as I sit down, trying to shove the awkwardness in the room into a little ball and throw it out the window. Social interaction has never been my strong suit in the first place, and now my unsaid leaving the table hangs in the air like a cloud. Willow shifts in her seat. Anya clears her throat. Hazel avoids eye contact.
    “So, Hazel,” Aurielle says, breaking the silence. “You wanted to go into the woods?”
    “Yes,” he sighs. “Even though all of you seem to be against it. Even if it’s dangerous, wouldn’t you rather go out and face the danger than stay here?”
    “No,” Willow responds.
    “Thanks for your honesty,” he grunts. “Well, I’m going. It’s not up for debate.”
    I don’t respond. I have no desire to go.
    “I guess I’ll go,” Anya pipes up quietly. “I’ve never been, anyway.”
    “Aurielle?” Hazel turns toward her.
    “No, thanks. I think I’ll just stay here and make myself a strawberry milkshake.”
    I have no idea what that is, but it sounds good.
    “Okay, let’s go,” Hazel says to Anya. They both go out the door.
    “What are they even trying to do out there?” Aurielle sighs.
    “By ‘they’, you mean Hazel, right?” Willow laughs.
    “Obviously. Poor Anya just went along.” She smiles. “He seems to be … pushy.”
    I snort. “He’s been like that since five minutes after I got here.” As pushy as he is, though, he seems to be passionate. That’s good. We need to figure out what’s wrong, and we can’t to that by doing what we’re doing right now. But going into the woods just has a wrongness to it, like there’s something in there we shouldn’t find. I feel a cold feeling in my stomach just thinking about it.
    As they discuss strawberry milkshakes and Hazel, I let myself drift into my own thoughts about what might be in the woods. Ravenous animals with bloody jaws and blade-sharp claws. People with chainsaws. Darkness.
    But, despite my absolute terror, a small part yearns to go out there. It’s the part that loves the supernatural, the paranormal, the creepy.
    That part of me thinks that it’s not just a monster or a serial killer. It’s something else.
    I don’t want to think about that.


    The strawberry milkshakes taste like sweet, creamy deliciousness. I savor every last bite.
    “Wow,” Willow gasps. “This milkshake is delicious!”
    “Thanks,” Aurielle replies, embarrassed. “I remember them, somehow. Not when I drank them, but just … them.” Her eyes cloud over. “I want my old life back. Whatever it was.”
    Willow nods, sadness in her expression. “Me too.”
    “Maybe we can get it back,” I suggest. “Somehow.”
    Aurielle shakes her head. “I don’t think we can, Chiara. I think we’re stuck here.” She turns toward me, her eyes full of pity.
    But – but – how can they give up? We have to find a way out of here!
    I guess I can’t say that, though. The truth is, I’ve already given up hope. I’m just trying to not act scared and lost. I can’t. I have to be brave. We have to figure out a way. We don’t have a choice.
    “I’m going to bed,” Willow announces, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Aurielle gets up and goes to her room. Willow follows her.
    “Goodnight,” they say to me.
    “Goodnight,” I respond.


    Once again, the sun is barely up when I get up. I feel extremely tired and foggy-brained, like someone took my blood and replaced it with honey.
    “I just don’t understand. That’s all.”
    Everyone’s in the kitchen again. I see that Hazel and Anya are back. Did they think we were rude not waiting for them to come back? My stomach clenches in anxiety.
    Someone new sits in the chair – I call it the Newcomer’s Chair. Why am I even surprised to see a new face by now? There have been three so far.
    The new one, short and small, looks at me with her brown eyes. Her long brown hair sways slightly, like a frond.
    “Do you understand?”
    Caught of guard for a moment, I suddenly realize she’s talking to me. “What?”
    “This.” She gestures.
    “No.” I frown. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. I was the second one here, so Hazel and I are supposed to be the experts, the ones who know all the answers. Ironically, we have no answers.
    She nods. “It’s just too much. I’ve been panicked, but I’m okay now.” She takes in a deep breath.
    Maybe I am an expert. But it seems like every time I go to talk to a newcomer, I have no idea what to say. I shift and offer: “None of us do. We’re trying to figure out why we’re here. Hazel and Anya, did you guys find anything?”
    They shake their heads.
    “We’ve been looking in the woods, but there’s nothing,” I explain.
    “We aren’t even sure if there’s anything to find,” Aurielle chimes in.
    I feel a sinking feeling in my stomach. The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve gone from hope to no hope back to hope again. But hearing someone else say my worst fears – it’s too much. A wave of sadness washes over me.
    What are we expecting to find out there, anyway? Someone giving away free popsicles?
    Hazel clears his throat and opens his mouth.
    Oh, no. Don’t say-
    “I’m going back out.”
    There’s obviously nothing out there, at least so far. No one except him wants to go back. I can see it on the others’ faces. They look unsure, glancing from one to the other.
    “It’s not safe.” Aurielle meets his eyes. “Someone has to go. Who?”
    Um … you?
    “I’ll go,” I sigh.


    I’m silent as we trudge through the woods, nothing cutting the thick quite. Unease hangs around us like a blanket, worming its way into our hearts. I shiver.
    I hate it out here.
    As we walk, Hazel’s eyes dart around, looking for something. Looking for what? I’m not sure.
    He picks up something with dark, wood like spikes on it. “What’s that?” I mutter.
    “Pinecone? I think.”
    Pinecone. I examine it. “Maybe it came from the tree. Y’know, pinecone.” Duh! Of course he knew that! I feel stupid.
    If he thinks anything, he doesn’t say it, just keeps looking at it.
    “We can’t go back again,” he finally says. “Not without an answer, without proof. We can’t.”
    “I know,” I sigh. “Maybe there’s nothing.”
    Anger flickers in his eyes. “There has to be something.”
    “Maybe there is. But I don’t know what to do. We can’t just stand out here all night.”
    He opens his mouth, and I brace for a retort, but he snaps it back shut at the last second.
    “There’s no other way, Chiara.” His head hangs. “We have to find a way out.”
    I don’t voice my worst fears, but they slice into my mind with blinding force – what if there is no way out? What if … we’re stuck here forever? Panic rises in my stomach and I blink away tears.
    We don’t speak as we keep going, the pine trees endless above our heads. The greens and browns of the forest blur together.
    But then I see something.
    It wavers and ripples where the pine trees end, menacing. I feel a chill.
    “Hazel,” I whisper, pointing a trembling finger.
    His eyes dart to it. “We should go back,” he hisses, panic rising in his voice.
    But – didn’t he just want to go farther? Find answers? He looks terrified as the ripples reflect in his brown eyes. I, myself, feel almost like a prescience is draped over the forest – rustling in the leaves, watching us, a cold, silent wind. Like its eyes are absorbing our every move, waiting to escape the shadows. Darkness itself.
    “Now!” Hazel yelps. His worn-out shoes pound against the ground as he sprints away.
    “Wait up!” I yell after him.
    As we race back to the cabin, I feel the presence watching us … waiting …


    Hopefully I didn’t make any mistakes because it’s four a.m. and if I went back and tried to fix things I would probably do more harm than good 😛


    • Monkeyfur
      October 20, 2019 at 3:26 pm

      OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO this is getting scary!😜
      Run Hazel and Chiara!

      Here comes the dangerous Moky

    • October 20, 2019 at 5:40 pm

      Ooooh spooky

      Greetings Fellow Earthlings

    • Blackkit is now Blackpaw :0
      October 20, 2019 at 8:06 pm

      The only thing I read was taco fire 😛

      cOoKiEs aNd NuTbOltS fOR sALe

    • 🍂 Pineplossom 🍁
      October 20, 2019 at 9:10 pm

      Spoooooooky 😛

      ~ fall breeze autumn leaves ~

    • October 21, 2019 at 10:16 pm

      I was skimming this page and came across it and read a part of it and was like “wow this is depressing” and then I looked at who wrote it and it was me :’)


  3. Monkeyfur
    October 20, 2019 at 11:49 am

    Hi everyone! I need help…
    I feel like everyone likes my BlogClan fanfic, but you guys don’t really like my other stories…
    I also don’t really like my other stories as well…😜
    But anyways… I was thinking about a few other storylines and I kind of need help with it!
    Can someone help me come up with an idea?

    • Blackkit is now Blackpaw :0
      October 20, 2019 at 8:06 pm

      Hmmmm no idea I am horrible at plots sorry moky 😛

      cOoKiEs aNd NuTbOltS fOR sALe

      • Monkeyfur
        October 21, 2019 at 1:58 am

        It is okay, thank you though!

        Here comes the dangerous Moky

    • Brightpaw (pool)
      October 20, 2019 at 11:26 pm

      I always like to look up writing prompts or read books about writing. That usually gives me some needed advice and gets my mind going 🙂

  4. October 20, 2019 at 4:55 pm

    Chapter two: What’s a “clothe”?

    Alderpaw’s head was swimming. He had hit his head after his unnaturally long legs had failed to hold up his new body. He gazed in a mixture of confusion and horror down at the fur-less brown skin that covered him. The words made more sense, now that he had said them. The pale creature in front of him, with silvery hair and blind blue eyes, was definitely a twoleg. He tugged at a strand of ginger fur that was growing on his head, noticing that he had traded most of his hearing and smell for sharper vision.
    Beside him, Jayfeather took a deep breath. “We need to find help,” his brother said, voice paining the illusion of calm and control that did not quite match the look in his eyes. “We need to figure out what’s going on.”
    Alderpaw nodded, glancing around at their surroundings. They appeared to be in a tiny path between two twoleg dens. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shape moving at the mouth of the path. Twoegs were walking past, and behind them, he could hear the faint roar of monsters.
    “Come on,” Alderpaw said, struggling to his feet. He slipped and almost fell, but grabbed onto a large, foul smelling object beside him. After he steadied himself, he reached down and grabbed one of Jayfeather’s hairless paws.
    “You’re going to have to be my eyes,” Jayfeather muttered moodily as he scrambled clumsily to his feet. “Something’s wrong with my ears and nose.” He turned to glare down at Alderpaw, almost as if he could see. “So please do not lead me into a wall.” Alderpaw sighed, wondering how stupid his mentor thought he was.
    Clumsily, the two toms made their way towards the mouth of the path, leaning against each other to keep from collapsing. How did twolegs do this, Alderpaw wondered, walking on two legs is so hard!
    “Hey!” he called out, spotting a kind looking female twoleg walking past him, “Can you help us?” The twoleg turned, stared at them, and turned bright red.
    “Put some clothes on!” she yelped, covering her burning face with her paws. Alderpaw blinked at her, surprised that they could understand her. He glanced down at himself, wondering what a “clothe” was. He and Jayfeather did seem to be missing the colorful pelts that twolegs usually had.
    “Sorry,” Jayfeather said politely, “But we’re new around here. What’s a “clothe, and where might we acquire one?” The twoleg stared at Jayfeather as if he had grown a second head, and slowly began to back away, her face a mask of confusion.
    “I don’t think I can help you,” she said hurriedly, and quickly walked away.
    “Well,” muttered Jayfeather with a sigh, “That went well.”
    “I guess “clothes” are important,” Alderpaw said, “And I think that’s what they call the colorful pelts they wear.”
    “Ah,” Jayfeather said, leaning against the wall of a twoleg den, “That would make sense. So, right now, we’re like cat’s without fur.” He paused running his paw through the dense grey fur on the top of his head. “We’re going to have to pretend we’re normal, if we want to get help. Let’s give this another try.”
    “Um, excuse me?” Alderpaw mewed to a tall, male twoleg, “We need help.” The male twoleg stared down at him, the fur above his eyes furrowing.
    “What happened to you kid’s clothes?” he asked, poking at Alderpaw’s bare chest.
    “They were stolen,” Jayfeather said curtly, shaking his head unhappily. “Could you help us get new ones?”
    “Who stole them?” the male twoleg asked, eye fur rising.
    “Bad people!” Alderpaw said, wanting to contribute to the conversation. “Very, very, bad people!”
    “Bad people,” the twoleg said, “stole your clothes?” Jayfeather shot Alderpaw a glare.
    “They were jealous that our clothes were better than theirs,” Jayfeather said.
    “Where are your parents?” asked the twoleg, sounding slightly annoyed. Jayfeather frowned. Alderpaw glanced between Jayfeather and the twoleg, trying to judge their ages. Jayfeather did seem shorter and thinner than the other twoleg, which was odd since he was a full grown cat.
    “The bad people killed them!” Alderpaw said, trying to sound sad, after Jayfeather hesitated. “With their claws!”
    “With their claws,” said the twoleg, “really.” Jayfeather sighed, a pale paw covering his face.
    “Alderpaw,” he muttered, “please let me do the talking.”

    Greetings Fellow Earthlings

    • 🐺🎃 Werecheetah 🎃🐺
      October 21, 2019 at 12:51 am

      this is hilarious I love it 😛


      • October 21, 2019 at 2:19 am

        Thanks! 🙂

        Greetings Fellow Earthlings

    • Monkeyfur
      October 21, 2019 at 1:50 am

      HEHE This is so funny Flamecloud!

      Here comes the dangerous Moky

      • October 21, 2019 at 3:05 am

        Thank you!

        Greetings Fellow Earthlings

        • October 21, 2019 at 3:53 am

          Monkey, I have been wondering for a while like an idiot “who’s the person with the space cat picture” and only just now noticed your name and now I feel rather silly because I had come to associate you with the little orange cat face. I like it though, it’s a cute picture 🙂

          Greetings Fellow Earthlings

          • Monkeyfur
            October 21, 2019 at 1:37 pm

            Yes, actually my purrsona is actually a ginger tom, but… I really like this picture so…

            Here comes the dangerous Moky

    • Seti is playing violin (Sunsetpaw/stream)
      October 21, 2019 at 9:01 pm

      The chapter title reminds me of this thing at school, where is a sign-up thing to make our social studies teacher wear the same outfit for three weeks. :p

      Shippty ship

  5. Icepaw is ready for Halloween
    October 20, 2019 at 9:22 pm

    I wrote about Sweetday for the halloween contest, and I think I’ll do her backstory!
    A young she-cat was having her kits. The medicine cat didn’t know why, but something was wrong with the kit. It wasn’t coming out. She had already had two kits, but this last kit had something off.
    Eventually, the two other kits started crying. They were hungry, but it was the middle of an extremely dry, freezing leaf-bare. There was no fresh-kill, and no other queens to nurse them while their mother had the kit.
    One of the kits, a small brown tabby, scooched out of the den, into the cold. However, the medicine cat didn’t notice.
    Eventually, the queen had the last kit. A black she-kit. The medicine cat nodded and purred. “Well, it took a long time, but it’s done. Well done Cinderfoot. You have three beautiful kits.”
    Sootfoot nodded. She was proud. “Wait, where’s the brown one Brownberry?”
    The brown and white tabby looked around. He saw the kit out in the middle of camp and ran to get it. As he did, Sootfoot saw the smoke covering the paws of the pitch black kit. Just like her father…
    There was something that no cat knew except Sootfoot.
    The father of the kits was a Dark Forest tom. And this black kit had inherited some of his traits.

    I'm feeling spooky

    • October 21, 2019 at 2:21 am

      Ooh, interesting! I like the concept!

      Greetings Fellow Earthlings

  6. Bluefire
    October 21, 2019 at 12:21 am

    “They moved. I’m sure of it. Hey, are you awake?”
    They feel someone prod them in the side with a paw. The scents of other cats mingle around them. Their entire body aches all over. Slowly, they force their eyes open to see a sleek-furred cream-white she-cat standing over them with worry clear in her tanzanite-blue eyes. When they look at her more closely, they realize that her tail is like that of a snake, with smooth iridescent scales, and that she has little rose-petal-shaped spots of pale russet marking her pelt. They find themself drawn to her, as if they know her, but they’ve never seen her before.
    “Oh! Thank the stars, you’re awake,” she exclaims with a sigh of relief. “I’m Dragonrose… you’re in the Storm Clowder camp. We found you by the river, you were injured pretty badly. You’ve been unconscious for nearly a quarter-moon, and we were starting to get worried. Do you remember what happened?”
    They shake their head slowly, attempting to stand. They manage to get to their feet, and realize that they’re in a stone den that looks like it was carved out of a rock. They had been lying on a bed of moss, and had cobwebs wrapped around them where they could now register the sharp stabs of pain that tended to accompany deeper wounds. There are shelves stuffed with herbs dug into the walls, and they can smell some of the herbs on themself too, likely in polituces under the cobwebs. There is also a pool of water in a deeper part of the den, and a nearly-round entrance with sunlight shining through. Another bed of moss sits in the back. Dragonrose is sitting between their bed and the entrance. Realizing they are very thirsty, they approach the pool and sniff it cautiously.
    “Go ahead, it’s safe to drink from,” Dragonrose assures them. They drink from the pool until their thirst is satisfied. When they look up again, another cat is standing in the entrance of the den.
    “Ah, you’re awake.” The she-cat standing in the den entrance has thick slate-grey fur and bright emerald-green eyes. She steps forward to introduce herself. “My name is Slatespirit. I’m the medicine cat of the Storm Clowder.” She turns to Dragonrose. “Thank you for watching them. They’re probably hungry, would you mind fetching something from the fresh-kill pile while I examine their injuries?” Dragonrose nods, winking at them before darting off into the sunlight.
    Slatespirit asks them to sit, then begins unraveling the cobwebs on their right foreleg. She blinks in confusing when she realizes that there was no wound, not even a scar. “What…” she murmured. They tilt their head, then realize the problem. They unceremoniously remove the cobwebs from the rest of their wounds, revealing that they are covered in deep scratches, except for a few spots where the scratches had vanished. Then, making sure Slatespirit is watching, they dip a paw in the pool. Their wounds shimmer, as if suddenly wet, then begin to fade, until they are completely gone. They remove their paw from the water, already feeling much better than when they’d woken up.
    “What in the name of–” They turned in surprise to see a baffled Dragonrose standing in the entrance to the den, a rabbit on the ground where she’d dropped it. “You have an ability!” She realizes. “Stars, if we’d known that when we found you we’d’ve just shoved you in the river.” Then she shakes her head, laughing to herself. “Of course. That’s why you were at the river in the first place– you must’ve been trying to get there before you passed out.” They nod, confirming her theory.
    “Incredible,” Slatespirit says. “What else can you do?” She asks.
    “Let them eat first, Slatespirit,” Dragonrose reminds her. They blink at her gratefully, and dig into the rabbit. When they’re finished, they lick their muzzle and purr.
    “Thank you,” they say, speaking for the first time since they woke up. Both cats are obviously surprised.
    “You can talk!” Dragonrose exclaims.
    “Of course I can,” they reply with a purr. “I just wanted to eat something before you started asking too many questions.”
    “Well, now that you have… Let’s start with the basics,” Slatespirit suggested. “What’s your name? And how did you end up injured like that?”
    “What’s the extent of your powers?” Dragonrose added. “And, uh, I’ve never seen your around… what brought you do our territory?”
    They blinked at the onslaught of questions, taking a moment to get their thoughts straight. “Well. My name is Erembour. I was attacked while I was hunting, by a group of rogues. I can create and control water, and use it to heal myself. And I was searching for a group to join. The group of rogues who attacked me have been after me for a while… I was hoping joining your Clowder would offer me some protection I can’t get on my own.”
    Slatespirit and Dragonrose exchange a glance. “We’ve had trouble with rogues recently as well,” Slatespirit admits. “You might be able to join the Clowder, but first we need to talk to Everstar. He’s our leader.”
    “Thank you,” Erembour says, dipping their head. As Dragonrose leads the way, they follow the Storm Clowder cats into the sunlight.

  7. Monkeyfur
    October 21, 2019 at 8:34 am

    Chapter 6!!! Hope you like it! Action is about to start!
    After the training, Viperfrost and I retreated into the planning room where CatClan was about to have the first-ever clan meeting, “Icepaw and Pebblepaw are supposed to kill Emberdawn by now,” Cheetahspark starts speaks with ambition in his voice. The clan nodded in agreement. My last encounter with those two apprentices was rather lucky, “As we have planned, we can start battling BlogClan now.”

    “Shouldn’t we wait longer?” Darkwing asks, there was a slight pang of regret in her voice that I could make out. “I mean, shouldn’t we try to eliminate Cakestar first? After all, it’s her that we are after,” I glance at Darkwing and she looks at me. Weren’t we trying to kill all of the BlogClan cats?

    “No, we can’t wait any longer,” Cheetahspark retorts, “We are trying to destroy all of BlogClan. Don’t worry about getting hurt, we will persuade Iceflower to join in on our league as well. We will start with the fire. The fire we will set in order to help Icepaw and Pebblepaw burn Emberdawn down. If we’re lucky, Blossomfire and Bluefire are meant to be there as well, we can take them out there too.”

    “I understand now,” Darkwing calls seriously, “Sorry, I had a brain fart just then,”

    “Now we shall move onto our prayer,” Doeleap demanded, “We, the dark animals, will be loyal to CatClan whatsoever and tomorrow at dawn we shall all participate to set the fire and destroy Emberdawn,”

    The cats repeated what Doeleap said loudly, every cat was excited for their first battle against their old and weak clan. Then, Viperfrost calls out something to the group, at that, I feel worried. I would be the one to set the fire to kill Emberdawn…

    Here comes the dangerous Moky

    • October 21, 2019 at 3:47 pm

      Cheetah is a she-cat! 🙂

      Tie Harder, Double Knot

    • October 21, 2019 at 4:41 pm


      I won’t actually do it, right???!??! :O

      White pumpkin pie???

      • Seti is playing violin (Sunsetpaw/stream)
        October 21, 2019 at 8:55 pm

        I hope not. (And pls don’t kill me!)

        Shippty ship

    • October 21, 2019 at 6:07 pm

      Don’t kill me!!!😉😱😂
      Hehe, great story! Even though it’s very dark, but hey; that makes it really good.

      Duh doe

  8. Monkeyfur
    October 21, 2019 at 2:31 pm

    Hi everyone! I wanted to start a fanfic contest! You will have two weeks to complete this task!
    The prompt is: Write about a sad love story!
    It can be short or long! But pretty please let it be 1000 words under!!
    I hope you guys participate!

    The winner will get…
    A special part in their point of view in my BlogClan fanfic!
    In the second place, you can get..
    2 secret pages!! and one drawing by me (which won’t be very good)
    In third place, you can get…
    One drawing by me!!

    Here comes the dangerous Moky

    • October 21, 2019 at 3:37 pm

      Ooh, fun. I’ll have to see if I have time.

      Greetings Fellow Earthlings

      • October 21, 2019 at 9:47 pm

        Also, when are they due by?

        Greetings Fellow Earthlings

    • October 21, 2019 at 6:05 pm

      I’ll join! How long does the story have to be?

      Duh doe

      • October 21, 2019 at 11:49 pm

        “It can be short or long! But pretty please let it be 1000 words under!!” it says up there 🙂

        Greetings Fellow Earthlings

    • October 21, 2019 at 6:52 pm

      I’m gonna enter

      Try your best

    • October 21, 2019 at 6:58 pm

      oooh im joining

      my cate so spoopy

  9. October 21, 2019 at 6:14 pm

    For Monkeyfur’s fanfic contest!

    🔥A Secret from Flames 🔥 PROLOGUE:

    𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚 about the forest the day I saw her. The patrol I joined split up to hunt, and I slithered down the grassy path alone to a sunny clearing.
    And there she was, standing there as if she were waiting for me.
    Her fiery fur glowed ginger and silver in the sunlight, her tail was bushy and big and white tipped.

    She was beautiful. 𝐴 𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒, I thought, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓𝑓. But I didn’t move for awhile, for I saw in her glittering gaze there was no hostility or fear. She didn’t move, just stared at me. My heart pounded in my ear as I stepped out of the undergrowth, deciding to confront her.

    I gasped. She was gone; vanished into thin air. My chest tightened as my fur bristled. Days went by and she was gone, never reappearing in the forest. I sneaked away into the forest to check the clearing for her beautiful face, but she never showed up. Something drew me to her. I doubted someone so beautiful could enter the world.
    Was she my imagination?


    Hope you like it! Comment below!😄

    Duh doe

    • October 21, 2019 at 9:47 pm

      Ooh, interesting! Can’t wait to find out more about this mysterious she cat!

      Greetings Fellow Earthlings

  10. October 21, 2019 at 9:51 pm

    Jay & Alder
    Chapter 3: Help from a band
    Jayfeather was beginning to wish he had gotten stranded with someone else. Someone who realized that twolegs did NOT have claws.
    “You’ll have to excuse my brother,” he said, reaching out in the direction of Alderpaw and ruffling the little tom’s head fur, “He has a very good imagination. He’s only six moons old.”
    “Do you mean years?” the twoleg said uneasily
    “Yes, of course,” said Jayfeather, not at all sure what he had agreed with, “That’s what I meant. But we really do need your help.”
    “Fine,” the twoleg said reluctantly, “You can come home with me, at least long enough to get you some clothing.”
    “Thank you,” Jayfeather said, baring his teeth like he had heard Graystripe mention twolegs did to be friendly.
    “Are you okay?” the twoleg asked, suddenly sounding concerned. “You look like you’re in pain.” Jayfeather quickly closed his mouth, wondering what he had been doing wrong.
    “Yes, thank you for asking, I am just fine,” he said, realizing that his leg actually did hurt quite a bit from when he had fallen.
    “Okay,” said the twoleg slowly, “I’m going to go get my car. I’ll be right back.” Jayfeather listened to the sound of the retreating paw steps, then sat down unsteadily on the hard ground. He carefully stretched his scratched leg out, wincing slightly as the stinging increased. He bent down, trying to reach the injury, but he couldn’t like he would have as a cat. With a sigh, he bent his leg, and began to lick at the scratch.
    “Do you see any cobwebs around here?” he asked Alderpaw.
    “Here’s a big clump,” his apprentice said after a moment, handing him a sticky pawful of cobwebs. Carefully, Jayfeather spread them over the wound, giving it one last lick to make sure it was clean. He heard a soft rumble, and a monster pulled up beside them.
    “What on Earth!” squawked the twoleg, from within the monster.
    “Oh no!” yelped Alderpaw, “Did the monster eat you?”
    “Pure imagination,” Jayfeather said quickly, recalling Graystripe mentioning the twolegs getting in and out of monsters as if it were a normal, not dangerous pastime.
    “Why were you licking your knee?” the twoleg said, emerging from the monster with a click, “And are those cobwebs?” Jayfeahter gazed skeptically up at the twoleg. He knew twolegs were primitive, but did they really know nothing about healing?
    “Just out of curiosity,” Jayfeather began, knowing he needed to act as normal as one could while talking to an alien life form that he understood almost nothing about, “What else would I be doing?”
    “Maybe use a band-aid or something?” the twoleg suggested. Jayfeather knew the two words the twoleg had said, but did not understand how they were supposed to fit together in this context. “Bands” were a stripy pattern that occured on animals and plants sometimes, and “aid” was a fancy version of help. But how could stripes help heal him? It mattered not.
    “Of course,” Jayfeather said, “I just had to improvise since I did not have any.”
    “Uh huh,” said the twoleg, sounding as if he rather regretted offering to help them. “Well, hop in, I guess.”
    “In the monster?” Alderpaw squeaked, sounding about as terrified as Jayfeather was feeling.
    “Come on, silly,” Jayfeather replied, scrambling to his feet, “Where else would we go?” He heard a sigh from Alderpaw, and then retreating footsteps. He was standing alone. Jayfeather bit back a growl of frustration. He had spent his whole life trying to stop people from rushing to help him just because he was blind, and now he couldn’t get a little help when he actually needed it. Cautiously, he edged his way towards the monster.
    Suddenly, the ground disappeared out from beneath him, and he stumbled forward, slamming his snout against the cold, smooth surface of the monster’s shell.
    “Oww,” Jayfeather murmured, slowly collapsing backwards onto the curb, clutching his face. “Ow, ow, ow.” His paws came away sticky with blood, and his nose felt odd.
    “Did you just-” the twoleg began, hopping out of the monster again, “Why did you just run straight into my car?”
    “Ibm blind,” Jayfeather muttered, voice coming out muddled. “Greet Starclan, I fink I jubst broke by bnose on a monster. That’s gobta be a first.” The twoleg helped him to his feet, handing him a piece of pelt to press over the flow of blood. Carefully, Jayfeather stepped up into the monster, praying it would not realize he wasn’t actually a twoleg and eat him.
    “I’m sorry,” Alderpaw whispered guiltily as Jayfeather leaned back against the squishy substance he was sitting on, “I forgot to tell you about the step.”
    “Oh, really?” Jayfeather grumbled grumpily, “I habn’t noticed.”

    Greetings Fellow Earthlings

  11. Seti is playing violin (Sunsetpaw/stream)
    October 21, 2019 at 11:24 pm

    Jay or Alder: What is a year?
    Me: earthrotationthingymabobs. We learned about it in science. 😛

    Keep up the good work!

    Shippty ship

    • October 21, 2019 at 11:40 pm

      Thanks! 🙂

      Greetings Fellow Earthlings

    • Seti is playing violin (Sunsetpaw/stream)
      October 22, 2019 at 12:55 am

      Dangit I didn’t press the reply button.

      Shippty ship

  12. October 21, 2019 at 11:37 pm

    Short fanfic for Monkey’s contest! (it is one word under the max cause I can’t write short. It’s a little rushed, but whatever)

    “I don’t mean to be rude,” mewed a soft voice, “but are you expecting kits?”
    “I….” she began staring back at the medicine cat apprentice. Her instinct was to say, no, of course I’m not. But when she stopped to think about it, that would explain a lot. But she couldn’t be having kits. Not right now.
    “Are you?”, Orchidpaw mewed, tipping her head to the side.
    “I….” Briarthorn began,“I don’t know?” Orchidpaw reached over, pressing a small paw carefully against the older she cat’s flank.
    “You definitely are!” Orchidpaw mewed, beaming. Briarthorn felt her stomach drop out from underneath her. “That is a good thing, right?” the apprentice mewed after a moment, looking concerned.
    “Of course it is. But now….” she mewed, letting a silence fall between them.
    “Maybe this will help Basilstripe stay strong. Give him something to fight for,” Orchidpaw suggested. Briarthorn shoved past the pale brown she cat, making her way towards the mess that was the medicine cat’s den.
    The sickness had been spreading for about a moon. It slowly dragged cats out of the real world and into a strange, living death. Cats were dying of starvation and dehydration more often than the actual disease was killing them. Fuzzywhisker had found ways to ease the symptoms, but a cure was yet to be found. There were so many sick cats that Fuzzywhisker and Orchidpawl couldn’t give all the sick cats the attention they needed. Briarthorn couldn’t take care of kits and her mate at the same time.
    “Hey, Briar….” the grey tabby tom sprawled across a nest mewed weakly.
    “You’re awake!” she mewed happily, darting to her mate’s side. “Basilstripe, I thought you weren’t ever going to wake up again!”
    “You look healthy,” Basilstripe said, mew painted with relief. “Even managed to gain a little weight back after that prey shortage.”
    “I-” Briarthorn mewed, “I’m expecting kits.”
    “You are?” said Basilstripe, a grin spreading across his face. “I’m going to be a father,” he said, a raspy purr rumbling in his throat. “And you’ll be a great-” he froze, a harsh cough rattling through the air.
    “Basilstripe!” Briarthorn exclaimed, bending over her mate. Quickly, she grabbed some marigold, nudging it into his mouth. After a moment, Basilstripe’s breathing returned to normal.
    “I’m okay,” he croaked. He paused, staring at Briarthorn. “You need to leave,” he growled suddenly. “Get out of here.”
    “I need to take care of you,” Briarthorn hissed. “The medicine cat’s are in over their heads.”
    “No,” Basilstripe insisted, “You might catch it from me. There’s no cure, and I can’t lose you.”
    “I’d rather die beside you than live without you,” Briarthorn said.
    “The kits,” Basilstripe said.
    “What about the kits?” Briarthorn snarled, “I don’t care about the kits, I care about you.”
    “Out,” Basistripe said, struggling to his feet.
    “Lay back down!” Briarthorn said, watching his shaking legs struggling to hold his weight. Basilstripe collapsed with a huff, eyes narrowed in pain.
    “Please,” Basilstripe murmured, eyes begging to close again, “Let me rest easy knowing you and our kits are safe.” He forced his eyes open, gazing up at Briarthorn. “Don’t worry, it takes more than a little cold to kill me.” Briarthorn let out a frustrated growl.
    “You better not die,” she snarled, storming out of the nursery.
    “Love you too,” Basilstripe murmured, a small smile painted on his face.

    Briarthorn gazed down at the three little bundles, conflicted feelings struggling within her. It had been a few moons, but Basilthorn had still not made a recovery. Most of the other sick cats were dead now, but her mate was still hanging on, according to Fuzzywhisker. The medicine cat had forbade her from going near her sick mate, claiming the kits needed her. Orchidpaw had caught the sickness and died, confirming that it was contagious. She sighed, laying her head across the tabby and white back of the only tom. She loved them so much, but she should be with her mate.
    “Moma,” squeaked Falconkit, “Why are you sad?”
    “I miss your father,” Briarthorn sighed. The few times Basilstripe had been awake enough to speak, he had pestered Fuzzywhisker for details about his family, but refused to let them visit.
    “He’s awake again,” mewed Fuzzywhisker, forcing a smile. “I think he’s getting stronger.”
    “I want to go see him,” Briarthorn growled.
    “No,” Fuzzywhisker said, sitting down beside her. “He misses you,” Fuzzywhisker added after a beat. Then, a yowl split the air.
    “Watch them,” Briarthorn mewed, dashing out of the den before the medicine cat could protest. Briarthorn froze, eyes widening in horror. Foxes, foxes everywhere. There were at least five. Once was making its way to the unguarded medicine cat’s den.
    “No!” she snarled, leaping at the fox. Her claws found it’s throat, and it collapsed, twitching.
    “Briarthorn,” Basilstripe said, and she turned to see him standing by her shoulder. “Guard the nursery. I can protect myself.” His eyes were bright and determined, and his voice was firm. Briarthorn hesitated, then bolted off when she heard Fuzzywhisker’s howl of pain. She almost tripping over the body of Fuzzywhisker. She dove at the fox, snapping at its neck. It knocked her away, then it’s jaws closed on her leg. Twisting, Briarthorn swiped it’s nose. With a whimper, the fox backed away, and one of her fellow warriors jumped onto it’s back.
    “No….” Briarthorn whimpered, staring at the torn bodies of her kits. If she had been faster, less indecisive, she could have saved them.
    “Briarthorn, come quick,” a cat murmured, practically dragging her away from her kits.
    “No, no, no,” she whimpered, staring at another torn body.
    “Briar….” Basilstripe whispered, “Are the kit’s okay?” she stared at him, not knowing what to say.
    “They’re okay,” she lied, voice trembling. Let his last memories be a happy one. He’d know soon enough she had lied.
    “Good,” he mewed, his eyes closing. “That’s good.”
    “Take care of them,” she whispered, watching the last breath rattled through her mate’s chest.

    Greetings Fellow Earthlings

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