//Un//marked

// chapter 1 //

The darkness covered his movements and soft conversation the sound of his pawsteps. He crept forward, eyes on his prey. It seemed unaware of his advances but he could never be too careful.

He slid into a crouch, slightly lopsided, tail not quite still as excitement filled him. He bunched his muscles and –

"Gotcha'!" he squeaked a moment too soon and the grey tail whisked away before he had a chance to land on it.

"Nice try, Dewkit," Cinderblossom purred. "But you announced your victory a moment too soon." Beside her, Mothpelt gave a purr of amusement.

The grey kit shook out his fur, looking between the two she-cats before him.

"Did you hear me coming Mothpelt?" His eyes grew wide as she stifled a purr.

"Only in the last possible moment," she replied. "But I'm no warrior, just a simple medic."

Dewkit scrunched his nose up as he remembered the scents of some of Mothpelt's herbs. "I wouldn't want to be a medic. Sorting herbs all day would be boring."

Before Cinderblossom could chastise him for his rudeness, he bounced up, nearly losing his footing in his excitement. "I want to be a warrior, the strongest of them all!"

A soft expression filled Cinderblossom's face. "Perhaps one day you will be." Her tone carried a sadness Dewkit could not quite place but he brushed it off. Of course he would be a great warrior. He would be as quick as Jaystrike and as strong as Bronco and as smart as Sprucetail and as determined as Beaver. The other alley cats wouldn't know what hit them.

"When do I start training?" he asked, quivering with enthusiasm. "Crowpaw's been telling me all about their training and Crisp and Oats were showing me the battle moves they learned their first day." He thrust a paw out at his mother's tail, losing his balance in the process.

Mothpelt steadied him with a forepaw. "All in good time," she purred amiably.

Dewkit huffed. "If I can't train can I at least go play?" he asked.

Cinderblossom turned to the entrance of the cardboard den. "Leafbare is starting to blow in. There will be snow soon." She sounded worried.

Mothpelt rolled her eyes. "All the more reason to have him play now rather than later." She turned to the bouncing kit. "Off you go. I'll take care of your mother."

The grey kit sped out of the den before they could say another word.

He bounded from one corner of the alley cat camp to the other, past the other cardboard dens stacked one atop another. Behind the dens a red brick wall rose even higher, tall enough to block out the light of the sun come midday. The other two walls that enclosed the camp were hard and flat, the same colour as Dewkit's fur. The fourth side, open to the world, led to a calm Thunderpath, with trees lining its sides.

Dewkit made his way to this opening, took a left, and padded down a stretch of grey path. Up ahead, he could see the big expanse of field where the alley cats trained, the grass underpaw brown and brittle now that leafbare was near. There was a small lake there, lined with reeds and bullrushes, and a strange structure crossed its narrowest point. Twolegs walked there sometimes but they appeared rarely now that it had grown cold.

The kit bounded through the grass, preferring its texture to the hardness of the path, and headed for a small group of bushes and trees. Twoleg dens stood tall all around the expanse of green but here, in this little grove, it felt almost like a forest.

He stopped, scenting the air. Dewkit could tell the trainees and their mentors had been here not too long ago; their smells were still fresh. Yet, it seemed too quiet for the group to be training here. Usually, Quartz's strict commands could be heard from where he stood.