Serpentclan's Secrets (OLD)

Prologue

It was a cold, dim night. The crescent moon was barely visible, through the many clouds covering the beautiful sky. Nothing was wrong; it was a peaceful time of day for Serpentclan. This clan was known to have toms as rulers; only toms. That was considered above all. She-cats were considered weak and unfit for major roles. Toms got the best prey, better training, allowed to be mentors and mainly allowed leader or healer jobs. Most of the full-grown she-cats in the clan were warriors, hunting for the males. Or queens, nursing healthy, strong kits. Toms overpowered them, eating all the best food, staying in camp all day and possibly being medicine cats or leaders.

A pretty, tall white she-cat with piercing green eyes and dapples of brown and black on her pelt slunk out of a small, messily-made den. Following her was a short, golden tabby with a sand-coloured mask on her face and acorn-brown irises. Their steps barely made a sound as they positioned themselves near the camp entrance, long claws unsheathed and glinting in the moonlight. The pair muttered a few words together, before the green-eyed cat stood, parting her jaws and yelling out what seemed to be a codeword, or in this case, codephrase.
"Snake slither, scorpion sting, spider steps and salamander squeak!"

Once the phrase had been spoken, cats pooled out the dens in the far corners of camp. All of which were females. Their claws were out and they darted towards the larger, well-built dens. Shapes ran in and violent yowls began to echo around the area as the tom cats awakened. Screams of pain, agony. Terror, fright. Outrage and anger. The den walls, which were made of natural materials like moss, sticks and leaves, were broken and cats fell out the dens.
"Ivyeyes, is this a good idea? I mean, it is the toms we're fighting. If we lose-"
"We won't lose. The she-cats are blinded by their rage and hate for the cats who kept us imprisoned and low-ranked for our whole lives, they won't stop."
"You're right. Nothing to fear, I hope..."
"Don't be so afraid, Honeyflick. We'll win, chase the toms out, and take over the clan."

Ivyeyes and Honeyflick shifted away from the entrance as terrified toms began to come towards it from all directions, fleeing the camp. It was satisfying to watch and hear; these lazy cats running for once in their lives, away from the ones they manipulated heavily. Most of the she-cats who exited the ruined clumps of plants were unscathed, but the tom cats were horribly injured and bleeding. Alas, one of the tom cats snapped his jaws open, bellowing.
"RUN! THE SHE-CATS ARE GOING MAD!"