Book One: Dog Borne

Prologue

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"So," croaked a low, gruff voice from the shadows. A face appeared in the light, the dark tabby markings blending in with the surrounding dullness. The tomcat's gray eyes stayed unblinking, glaring at the fiery russet Quester in the center of the alley. He chuckled before continuing, circling the helpless hunter.

"Did you tell her?" he asked, stopping behind the other cat, who flinched at the sudden tone the tabby gave. The other rogues gathered around, some on the fence behind them, others blocking the exit to the alleyway, along with the view of the street. "Did you tell your beloved Fool-star?"

"POOL star," the ginger tom growled. "Poolstar is her name. YOU are the fool here, no one else, except your raggedy rogue goons." He looked up weakly from the ground, which was now puddling his blood. He stared at the rogues around him until he craned his neck to snarl at the tabby tom behind him.

"Oh, is that right? Well, I wonder if a fool ... would do this!" he roared and sprang out. The ginger dodged barely and jumped over him, leaping off his back and sending the tom face-first into the concrete. He landed and pounced up the trash cans, over the wall of rogues on the wooden fence. A few yowled and fell off while others hissed and tried to claw him while he was in the air. Their unstable grips missed him by a whisker and he landed on the dry grass on the other side.

He sent himself running, as fast as he could. He couldn't afford to fight; he was no Guardian. His only skill was hunting, and right now, running. He imagined himself chasing a speedy rabbit through the hills, forcing himself to go faster. He heard angry snarls a few tail-lengths behind him, some coming unmistakably from Shatter.

Shatter, on the other paw, had now bruised his face and was chasing the ginger in rage. His rogue-group  allies followed him, a little confused. "Scorpion!" he called over his shoulder. The lithe black tom came up beside him in an instant, his strangely long tail waving behind him.

"Yes, Shatter?" he replied in a deep, unsettling voice.

"Get that little maggot before I make a carpet of your hide! If he escapes, that mangy clan will know where we camp and will come for us." Shatter growled, his mind flashing to possible outcomes of the clan cats invading the alley.

"Are you scared?" Scorpion smirked. "They won't come to Two-leg place. They think it's gross. But I will get Firecloud, only because you asked."

Shatter didn't reply. Scorpion was his right-paw tom. He would be dead without him. Scorpion acted as his soldier, assassin, hit-man, bodyguard - he was valuable, but Shatter never admitted it. He was only seen as tough by acting like he didn't care about another soul - which was true, to a point.

He shook away his thoughts as Scorpion sped up, proceeding to chase the ginger tom.

"Oh Firecloud?" he called with a low cackle. When Firecloud turned his head, the black rogue pounced. He leapt onto his back and gripped his shoulders. The fiery tom howled in pain as Scorpion yanked him around. Soon he had him on the ground, shoving his face into the dirt so he wouldn't fight against him.

Shatter skidded to a stop and snagged Firecloud's scruff. He ripped the long haired tom out from under Scorpion, dragging the writhing clan cat back to the gutter. He threw him into the pipe, where three rogues ran to the other side and blocked it.

"Oh, Burn." he cooed, watching as Firecloud shuddered, weakly trying to stand up. "Burn, Burn, Burn."

"I-It's Firecloud now," the tom coughed, shaking out his scratched up pelt. "Everyone else calls me that. I'm a clan cat now. Get over the past, because you know I won't join you again."