Sandy's Escape: A Warriors Inspired Story

PART 1

A group of rogues strode along through the scorching grounds they were venturing though.

There were two she-cats—one pale sandy orange with light blue eyes, and the other with fluffy black fur and gold eyes—and one tom—white with a gray stripe running down his back and blue eyes.

The black-she cat turned to the other who was lagging behind, her fluffy black fur dusty and messy. “How you doing back there, Sandy?” “Fine,” she responded, her voice hoarse from the air. The black cat nodded and turned her head back up ahead.

“Where are we particularly going, Stripe?” The black she-cat meowed to the tom beside her, who shook his head. “I'm actually looking for a cat to give me directions, maybe find us a good place for a new home.” He explained.

Sandy felt like her fur was on fire, it was so hot where they were trekking through, she could barely stand the sizzling heat. I hope this new home has shade, she hoped. More of this sunlight and I'll deteriorate!
“Are you sure you're fine? You look really burnt up,” “no Dawn, I'm just tired.” The black she-cat had asked Sandy how she was again, looking a bit concerned for her. Dawn shook her head and looked over at Stripe, he was her mate—a cat that would stay with her and keep her safe as long as he could.

As they walked through the long, wide area, paw pads cracked and aching—Sandy looked up. She gasped as she noticed a tom in the distance, his back turned to them.

“Stripe! Look!” Sandy meowed, lifting a paw and gesturing over to the silhouette. Stripe turned his head over, his eyes widened and he whipped his head to Dawn. “Look! Another cat! They can give us directions!” He yowled.

Dawn suddenly jolted and looked up, as if she were in a heat-inflicted daze. She perked up and got more into her feet.

“Come on! Let's go ask them for directions!” The rogues dashed off over to the tom, their paws barely skidding the ground.

“Hey! You! Can you give us directions!” Stripe called as he ran over, Sandy and Dawn hot on his tail. The tom whipped his head back.

He was an averagely sized tom, his fur was light-ish brown with darker stripes swirling around his back and head. His eyes were light green, glinting as they hit the sunlight bathing the open area. On one of his cheeks, there was no fur, and in that spot was a wide red marking snaking from behind his eye to nearly the bottom of his chin. When he seemed to have his mouth closed, the side of his mouth with his marking was open, with some of his yellowed teeth showing.

“Who ah– could you be?” He asked, as the rogues slowed to a halt behind him. Stripe stopped and faced the tom.
“I'm Stripe. The black one is my mate Dawn, and the sandy orange one is my sister Sandy.” Stripe introduced the she-cats to the brown tom. He nodded.

“Name's Nubbins, nice ah– to meet all you cats.”

Nubbins. Ha, what a funny name for a cat. Sandy thought, as she looked the tom over.

“We wanted to know if you could give us directions, we're trying to find a new home.” Stripe's question interrupted Sandy's thoughts, she looked up.

“I know these parts well, if you'd let me ah– venture with you a bit—I can get you some food.” Dawn perked up when she heard that Nubbins knew where food could be. “That would be great! Yes!”
She hopped up and down excitedly. Stripe let out a little mrrow of laughter. “Yes, I think Dawn likes that idea.”

“Just a bit farther, I have ah– some fresh-kill stashed in some dead bushes up ahead.” Nubbins announced as the cats went on with their trek.

Sandy looked over. There was a huge, dusty Thunderpath laid along just a bit away from them. A monster suddenly raged by, its hisses fading as it zoomed off into the distance like a cat in pursuit of prey.

Just a bit ahead, there was a kind of den woven out of huge twigs and held up by a huge dead bush. There it is, just a bit more walking and I can sink my teeth into some fresh-kill.

The trio hadn't eaten in a while, their pelts nearly clinging to their bones. Even Dawn—who normally had a shiny thick coat that made her look huge—looked small and scrawny walking along the dusty, nearly grass-less ground.

“I wonder what meat Nubbins could have found around here,” Dawn wondered, looking over to Sandy. “Who knows, maybe he's gonna feed us worms he dug up.”

Dawn looked confused at what Sandy had whispered to her.

“Anything fresh and killed, could be considered fresh-kill.” Dawn noticed what she meant and let out a snort of amusement.

“Alright cats, here's ah– the place.” Nubbins stopped in front of the den-like structure and slunk into it. Stripe began following, but the brown tom called back to him.

“It's ah– alright I can get it.”

Stripe nodded and went to sit beside Dawn.

It took Nubbins a bit to get the kill out of his structure, but eventually when the rogues had their backs turned to the structure, he came out.

As he placed the bedraggled shape on the ground, Dawn looked back and shrieked. “Is that?— Is that?—” She yowled hysterically.

“What—?” Stripe turned around to see what it was, but he gasped and toppled over when he noticed what it was. Sandy whipped her head back and noticed why the two had reacted so wildly.

The thing Nubbins had pulled out was a cat, prints from a monster's paws squished unnaturally into the cat's fur. It was dead, and most likely killed on the Thunderpath a bit away.

Sandy's jaw gaped, as she turned completely over and looked at Nubbins.

“What's wrong? It's food.” He asked Sandy innocently. “It's not food! That's a cat!” Dawn screamed, looking at Nubbins with shock.

“And cats are food!” He lowered his head down and opened his mouth to take a bite from the ragged corpse.

“No!” Stripe had lifted his head up off of the ground and watched the chaos unfold.

Nubbins put his mouth over a leg of the disfigured cat, and nearly took a bite when Stripe let out a screech and got up. He nudged the terrified Dawn up and nodded to Sandy. She nodded back and began running—running for her life.

Nubbins looked up, surprised at their fleeing. “Hey! Wait!”

The cats didn't stop their running, even if he called louder.

Nubbins sniffed and stuck his tongue out distastefully at them, before looking down at his meat.