I've been wanting to do this for a while now. :3
"Who goes there?" growls a low voice menacingly.
You jump at the voice, and a dark, scarred tabby tom stalks in. You sense immediately who this is. The tales of his treachery have forever been passed through generations and generations of kits and queens, who found no need to exaggerate the story to terrify the kit.
Another brown tabby with a bent tail stalks in. A grey tabby with dark stripes joins them. "What are you doing here?" they spit. "Do you want to join?"
You take a step backwards. "L-look, I-I'm s-sorry..." you manage to stammer.
Tigerstar takes another step towards you, a forceful glare in his eyes. "You ready to die, kittypet?" he curls his lip.
You fluff your fur out, and he flexes his muscles. You realize you won't be able to take him on. Besides, even if you defeat him, there are the two other ones.
A small, light brown tabby she-cat strides in. "What's going on here, Tigerstar?"
You blink. She doesn't fit in here.
"Sprucestar!" Tigerstar gasps. "I didn't- I'm so sorry..."
The she-cat makes her green eyes go cold. "Whatever, mousebrain." She turns to you. "What do you want?"
You look at your paws. "I don't know what I'm doing h-here."
Her muscular body gets closer to yours. "Okay, stupid. Let's make it easy for you. Join us? Or die?"
I was a kit once, you know. No reason to be so obnoxious.
I was the runt of the litter. My father, Redfang, thought I should be killed with deathberries, but my mother, Nightwhisker, wanted me to live. Redfang, being the biggest pushover I ever knew, finally agreed to let me live. They named me Sprucekit, after the tree that had fallen in the middle of camp during Nightwhisker's kitting.
Unfortunately for me, there was no immediate respect in the clan. I was the last of the kits to open my eyes - rightfully so, in my opinion. Redfang was a senior warrior, and liked to pretend I didn't exist.
I didn't exist? You won't exist soon, buddy. Was my thought when he told his friends how unimpressed he was with me. But they grunted their agreement, so I was labeled as the one who wouldn't survive. Ha. I think I proved them wrong.
By the time I was 5 moons old, I had amibition. I didn't want to be clan leader. I had to be it. I knew what I wanted to do with my life. No soppy medicine foxdung for me. Daisykit found an interest in it, and had weekly visits to the medicine den. Thinking about it, she probably faked being sick just to be in there.
Sweetkit, who seemed destined to be a queen, was always the sweetest and nicest to me. Her lithe white body was speckled with tortoiseshell patches, and her and I had a special bond. We were inseparable.
And then there was Tigerkit. Tigerkit was named after our grandfather, Tigerheart, who was named after his grandfather, Tigerstar, who was named for...I'm not sure. But whatever.
Anyway, there we were, squirming balls of fur, yet so powerful at the same time. The old medicine cat swore we should've never been born.
I didn't know this until we were apprenticed, of course. Why would they tell us that we were going to be doomed?
Well, it didn't start that way. But Tigerkit was a sickly kit. He died after 4 moons. It was kind of sad. He could barely breath.
Nightwhisker grieved the most for her son, and started to already turn her back on the rest of us. I learned it was time to toughen up.
Before it was too late.
You take a step back, your fur fluffed up. "J-join you?" you stammer. "Do I-I have to die to j-join you?"
The light brown she-cat looks into your gaze. "Look, mousebrain. It's an 'or' option. You die if you don't join us. You live if you do."
You shift uncomfortably. "Well..."
At that moment, a brown cat with barely any tail left arrived.
"Shredtail." Tigerstar nods to him.
"Were you successful on your mission?" Inquires Sprucestar.
Shredtail nods. "Right here, ma'am."
"Excellent." The she-cat nods her approval slowly. "Come closer, as I need to give you your next task."
The she-cat whispers something in his ear, and his eyes go from a prideful look to a shocked look.
"Is that even-" he starts.
"It's perfectly doable. Now go!" She urges, her eyes hardening as he dashes off into the bushes.
"Weakling," she mutters. "Sorry, where were we?"
You hold your breath, hoping she doesn't remember.
"Oh, that's right. Your allegiance."
You slowly exhale, and make up your mind as you do so.