Prologue

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|| Prologue ||


The air in the twolegplace was getting crispier, cold, but city life bustled on. Monsters grumbled through the streets, unaffected by the seasons, and the tall, cut-rock nests known as buildings were sparsely lit up through windows. In one particular alleyway, a manic commotion could be heard from either entryway. Cats growled and mrrowed, cheering on with devious smirks or booing in annoyance at the fight going down.

"Damn it, Fang, don't make me loose my scraps to your piss-poor fighting!" A cat with a toothy-laden collar spat from his observational perch on a discarded cardboard box.

On the other paw, another cat cackled and grinned excitedly, their eyes shining as they watched what was their clanmates tearing into each other – one of them landing more damage unto the other, much to their delight. "Those scraps are about to be mine, Spitz," she declared tauntingly. "Prowler's got him for sure!"

In the next several dozen heartbeats, it felt as if it had only been a few before the tables had turned and suddenly Prowler was wailing in pain. Fang had regained a spark of energy, and was now just about all teeth and claws with a crazed look in his eyes as with a snap, he broke Prowler's leg.

Meanwhile, three cats stalked back into the alleyway from the streets. Others nearby were quick to duck and move out of their way upon noticing them, a particular small figure amongst them. A black-and-white cat, known as Bone, huffed. "That big bone-head calling himself 'Tigerstar' is just trying to use us."

The ginger tom at the other flank grunted and lashed his tail. "I couldn't point it out more than that brute did so for himself."

The smaller of the three who was leading them back into camp growled lowly, "I don't care; I have my own plans for that flea-bitten moron."

Bone and Brick exchanged glances. "Scourge, I don't think it's such a–"

"Don't make me repeat myself," the little black tomcat snarled, glancing back to glare ice blue eyes at them, instantly silencing them. Out of the corner of his eye, the collected cats watching the fight go on just around the corner caught his attention. His cold stare was blank as a new pair of cats entered the circle to face off against one another. Some of the cats watching would get riled up and start up fighting amongst the crowd, even. This was nothing new. In-camp brawls were common, a set up to show who had the most strength. A fight to see who'd get to keep well-fed – or sometimes even fed at all.

While many of them were built and equipped to fight with bound muscles and fierce combat skills, it was still a reoccurring problem for them to get enough prey. Thus, a lot of these felines still had pelts so thin, they'd cling to their bones. It was just the strongest, and their founder, their leader, who weren't as malnourished, if at all.

It wasn't until his calculative gaze began scanning more of the crowd that he noticed the much smaller figures, which ultimately led to him noticing her. Just as the two raging cats were still fighting as they stepped aside, starting to scramble with Prowler desperately trying to escape, Fang rammed his head and shoulder into his side, sending them tumbling straight for—

An enraged yowl split the air and a flash of darkness flying deeper into the shadows made every cat in the clearing seem to jolt, flinch, and completely halt what they were doing. Even the two brawling it out stopped, more confused, until they both looked to see what almost happened, too. Everything became incredibly silent within the tall, stony walls of the BloodClan camp.

Scourge's eyes were icier than ever, his pupils purely slits, his fur bristling, and all the while his malicious appearance somehow made the air feel even more frigid. Not a soul dared to move. A small bundle of black fluff dangled from his jaws, and the felines surrounding him practically were as good as grapes turning into raisins. Prowler and Fang flattened their ears, ducked their heads, and quietly began shrinking away with their eyes wide.

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