DragonClan's Loner - Tender [I]

Prologue

A young she-cat, barely six seasons old, walked slowly and heavily on the ground.

She didn't look up in fear of her face being splattered in fat, heavy, wet raindrops.

Then again, her face was already wet. So was the rest of her pelt, plastered to her thin body.

The she-cat loner's stomach growled furiously, a reminder that she hadn't eaten for quite some time.

She ignored her stomach, continuing on.

The rain soothed her, although the loner was glad when the rain came to an end.

She gave herself a few licks, although it wouldn't do much.

Once again, the loner wished for someone to be with.

Her mother had abandoned her, alone and starving.

As the young she-cat loner continued walking, the terrain changed from flat moor to forest.

It was extremely faint, but the she-cat caught a whiff of strong cat scent.

It was so strong that not even the rain could wash it away.

The young loner was about to step through, when an old croaky voice hissed at her.

"Hey kit, what do you think you're doing?"

The young loner jumped, whipping around to face the voice.

She bristled. She hated being called 'kit.' Memories of her mother who didn't seem to care a single mouse tail about her flashed through the loners kind.

"I'm not a kit!" She growled.

"You are to me," An old she-cat said, dragging herself out of her shelter. "You didn't answer my question." She muttered crossly.

The young loner stayed quiet for a second, thinking of what to say. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath.

"I'm trying to find a new home." She answered.

The she-cat wheezed, and the young loner realised the old she-cat was laughing.

"Well, you definitely can't make a home in there. Don't you smell the markers? That's Clan territory." The old she-cat said.

"Clan territory?" The young loner echoed, not understanding a single word of what the old she-cat was saying.

The old she-cat sniffed.

"I knew you weren't from around here. Come 'ere, I'll explain." She said.

A bit hesitantly, the young loner approached the old she-cat, sitting down to listen at what she had to say.

The old she-cat began explaining about the hostile clans and their territory. She told the young loner about how they lived and what they believed. She explained a little of the Warrior Code, although the old she-cat admitted she knew very little of it.

The young loner she-cat was admittedly fascinated.

Cats who lived together in big groups? Who had a Star, their leader? Cats who hunted and fought for each other? The Warrior Code?

The loner wanted to experience and live through that herself!

But how had the old she-cat known so much if she was a loner?

"How do you know so much? Were you a clan cat once?" The young loner asked.

The old she-cat let out a rusty purr of amusement.

"No, young one. However, as a young she-cat, I never quite learned, and was always seeking off into the territory until finally I got my fur clawed off." She said.

"I'd like to live in a clan..." The young loner said.

She longed for support and comfort, a life with many other cats who actually liked her and would stay by her side.

"They'd never let loners like us in their clans, I know from experience," The old she-cat muttered, grooming herself. "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Nettle. What's yours?" Old Nettle asked.

"I.. I don't have a name. My mother only called me and my littermates 'kit' and 'young one's.'" The nameless young loner admitted.

"Oh, how unfortunate." Was all Old Nettle could say.

The young loner couldn't explain why, but suddenly she felt a wild tug, an instinct, to live among the clan cats.

"I want to live in a clan. " The young loner said.

Nettle let out a sigh.

"Oh, young one, I can't convince you not to," She said. "However, you're free to come back to me if you fail to get into your Clan. I'll teach you as much as I can." Nettle promised.

"When I get into the Clan, I'll promise to tell you." The young loner said.

Nettle let out a mrrow of laughter.

"I can't wait." She replied.

"Who's territory is this?" The young loner asked, suddenly feeling nervous as she sniffed the border.

"DragonClan's." Old Nettle said.

The loner peered into the territory.

Many trees, part of the moor, and the loner was sure she could hear the running of a stream.

She took a deep breath, crossing the border and running into Clan territory.