Warrior Cats: Sprout || Book One

Chapter Three

Lily started out of her dream, heart racing, and her kitten-fluff plastered to her slim frame. The plush velvet of her basket was suffocating; it suppressed her senses and flushed her pelt with heat. Lapping her soaked flesh, she winced at the salty tang of perspiration. Quashing another frenzied wave of shudders, Lily clambered out of her nest.

"It was just a dream. Just a dream," she repeated, forcefully lowering her hackles. Slanting beams of creamy dawn light were filtering through the half-closed shutters, barring the floor with auburn rectangles. She languished in a splotch of sunshine, relishing the warmth on her silvery fur and the momentary bliss that came with it. "Just a meaningless dream."

Slowly, she hauled herself to her paws, the kits words still chiming through her head;

Fire and darkness are elements of destruction. Light and earth and elements of life. The shadows have been reborn. Do not let them overtake you.

"Light and darkness? Elements? And what shadows? What lost ones, and what stars?" Lily squeezed her eyes shut and briskly shook out her scruff. So many questions, and absolutely no answers. That dream was just... so real! And those words! They must mean something...

"Is your head in the clouds again?" came the exasperated growl. "I thought we discussed this. A good house-cat is always grounded and affectionate to their housefolk."

Lily wheeled around, her twitching whiskers betrayed her irritation. "Do you need to police me for everything I do?" she demanded crossly. Missy seemed taken aback by her harsh retaliation; she, for once, seemed baffled by her reaction.

Recovering smoothly, Missy hissed, obviously galled; Lily summoned her bravery for the churlish admonishments soon to come. "You insolent kit! I only do this to look out for you! And I'm not policing you. I'm guaranteeing your success as a future house-cat."

Rage broiled in her stomach, a curl of violence rapidly unfurling in her gut. Hastily squashing the feral notions, Lily kept her anger in control, but not before she spat, "Well, what if I don't want to be your pristine kitty, huh? Why don't you think about what I want, for one little second of your stupid life? Who are you to tell me what to think or do?"

Before her adoptive mother could respond, Lily whirled around resolutely, and sauntered through the cat-flap. Her silver pelt was on end, and her small tail lashed with childish impudence. I just need to be alone for a while, she thought once the first wave of fury had subsided into a low, throbbing vexation. 

She dragged herself up and onto the top of the rickety garden fence, feeling the decayed wood sway beneath her paws. She scrutinized the rippling tree-tops on the horizon, a wind of indecision making her shudder. "Should I go there?" she inquired aloud. 

"Go where?" 

Lily craned her neck, her gaze sweeping the neighboring lawn; an abnormally small black and white she-kit was sprawling in verdant ferns. The shade of the fringed fronds cast intricate grey patterns over her glossy coat. Sluggish from her nap, the dainty cat scrabbled up the mesh wall hemming her own house. "Good morning Lily! What were you just mumbling about?"

Moxie...

"Nothing," the silver kitten replied, shuffling away from the nosy short-hair. "You must have been imagining things."

"No I wasn't!" Moxie insisted tiresomely. "You asked if you could go somewhere." She indicated her lawn with a petulant flick of her tail. "I was right there. I heard the whole thing, promise." The kit settled back on her haunches, satisfied with her explanation.