2017
WattyWarriors
Watty Warriors Fan Magazine SCRIPTORIAL
Single elimination one-on-one short story writing tournament for Warriors.
Result - advanced
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She breathed a few calming breaths between her heavy sighs.
Don't worry about this, she thought. It's for the kit, remember. For the kit. Your reputation as a medicine cat is at stake.
She crept beneath the open sun, her blue-tinted pelt faded. She licked her grey muzzle as she stepped into the shadow of a massive twoleg structure. Her eyes went straight to the bordering thunderpath, a lone cat nursing her kits on the edge.
No rouges and no StoneClan cats in sight, no one to stop me. Just as Bonbon promised.
She whisked her discolored tail through the air. The light breeze flowed across it and behind her, ensuring her advantageous position.
He said kits like her always die young, or are killed by their mothers. Bonbon believes she has a chance, though... you said you'd become her mentor if she survived this and her time as a kit. Well, Longtail, you'd better be good on your word. Deputy or not, I'll slice your underpaws open myself if you aren't!
She crouched low, constantly watching for others. She looked down the thunderpath both ways, and twoleg warriors stood on each end of it. No monsters, no other twolegs. She checked the wind again with her tail.
Amazing, we have a whole clan of kittypets - a kittypet leader - and there are still those who doubt outsiders. And of all cats to do so, it's those who are clan-born. I'll make sure the last thing Bonbon remembers before she dies is the life of this runt I'm about to bring back. Yes, she will not be allowed to witness failure.
The old medicine cat went back to watching the nursing cat. All but one had crowded around the mother. She was only half the size of the other kits, her eyes shut tighter than theirs. Her thin, grey pelt was covered in brown spots. Her tail was long and slender; none of the other kits' tails had grown in at all.
She reached through her littermates towards her mother but was pushed away. She climbed on top of them, only for her mother to push her off. She rolled away from the group, mewing and wailing, trying again in vain.
She doesn't even have a kit's pelt. If it wasn't greenleaf she'd be dead from cold. Doesn't matter. She's starving. Looks like her mother finally stopped feeding her.
The old cat looked closer; faint scars covered the kit's back, only visible by the tinge of red they each held.
And she's been beating her. Only a matter of time before she's killed or eaten.
The kittens finally moved away from their mother, only to begin climbing her and pawing at her fur. The tiny kit tried to wrestle in with her littermates but they ignored her.
She's finally stopped nursing. It's time.
She moved away from the shadows and into the thunderpath. It only took a few heartbeats for the mother to spot her, letting loose a fury of hisses. The kits instinctively crowded behind her.
"Go away!" she shouted, swiping at the older cat. "Stay away from my kits!"
The medicine cat slowed her pace, waiting until she was halfway across the thunderpath to speak
"You know who I am, you selfish badger," she said.
"You're clan, aren't you," the mother said. "I told you I don't want your territory. I'm nursing my kits. Now leave me alone!" She stood, baring her teeth and ready to lunge.
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