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If you read this, how would you like this to be turned into a TV show? I know I would enjoy writing this more than Sedge's Trap, which I cannot keep up with. Plus, my writing partner totally disappeared off the face of the wiki. If you don't want to see this turned into a TV show, how would you like seeing Love Echoes being turned into one? Please leave a message on my talkpage, or a comment below.


DOWN WITH THE BULLET

Part One in the Snowkit Series

A/N: I've seen many versions of "What if Snowkit had survived?" so here's mine! Enjoy, and please comment constructive criticism!

CHARACTERS ARE HERE!


Prologue

I saw my mother’s amber eyes fill with fear, as the cats around me retreated to their dens. Suddenly, darkness engulfed my world. I looked upwards toward the sky. Where had the sun gone? Gleaming yellow claws reached out to grab me.

My mind clicked.

Hawk.

Pain seared my pelt, into the very bones beneath my flesh. I let out a yowl of alarm. Speckletail’s face became a mask of horror. I struggled to get out of the monster’s grasp, but the claws just tightened its grip.

Looking down, the trees began to shrink, until the Highrock was just a tiny pebble. I wondered if I would ever see Speckletail again. Images of the pale tabby she-cat flashed in my mind.

I could smell blood. It was my own. I observed my snowy white pelt. Crimson stains splattered it, where the hawk was gripping me. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a terrible rumbling, vibrating more than anything I’d ever felt. It was a jerking blast, like all the rocks from the forest crashing down.

And then, the hawk went limp, and I was falling… falling…

Chapter 1

Where am I? That was the first thought I had. It was interrupted when pain struck though my entire body. Beneath my paws, I felt the rumble of pawsteps. Heavy, heavy pawsteps. Some kittypet? The vibrations moved, and I could feel it picking something off the ground. Suddenly, it came marching over. I stared at it with wide blue eyes.

A Twoleg.

Its mouth moved, and it waved its hands in the air wildly. I limped off as quickly as I could, stopping in exhaustion. Observing my surroundings, something caught my eye. Squinting, I discovered a small hidden hollow, covered by leafy branches. With much effort, I hauled myself over, and pushed through the barrier.

Small rays of sunlight shone through the twisted brambles above. Moss lined the walls and floor of the open space. I began to wash myself, licking off dried blood from my matted mangy pelt.

I fell asleep, my tail in my paws, thinking about the taste of a freshly-killed mouse.

"You'll always be useless!"

"Ha, you couldn't even catch a vole if you tried!"

"Go crawl down to ShadowClan and rot to death like you should!"

Voices called out in my mind, taunting me, teasing me. I could hear them, but why not anything else?


Blinding brightness crept into my eyes and woke me up. My body was stiff with pain.

I could sense that there was movement outside, and I tensed, prepared to fight. Fight, Snowkit? I thought sarcastically. I bet I can scare all the cats from here to the lake skittering to StarClan!

The thick mass of leaves spread apart, and a huge long-furred gray tortoiseshell tabby tom appeared. He had one cloudy blue eye, and a bright amber one. Part of his tail was missing. I huddled low in the corner, burying my nose in my fur. He began to speak, but what could I do? Not a word he said made his way to me.

An idea sparked in my head. Timidly, I brought my tail up to his throat. He immediately jerked away, but his eyes softened in recognition. Bringing himself, back, he repeated himself.

I felt the rumbles in his chest, and made out the words, What are you doing on your own, youngster?

I had never really been taught words to respond. I remembered Speckletail trying to teach me, but I never understood her.

As clearly as it was possible for me to say, I replied, "A hawk took me away from my home and I fell from the sky."

The tom looked at me with a confused expression on his face. I tried again. "I was snatched by a hawk." He nodded in understanding.

"I was born with one eye blind. I was neglected and hated - no one wanted the half-blind kit." His eyes darkened. "I was left to fend for myself. Without proper battle skills, I got into some rough situations."

The tabby indicated his mangled tail. "A dog tore it off. I can't climb trees." He looked wistfully out my makeshift den, towards the tall branches of an oak. "I understand how it feels, being different."

I ate up his words like I was a starving in the middle of leaf-bare. "I'm Jay," he introduced himself. "What's your name, young one?"

"Snowkit." I mewed.

"I'll take you back to by friends," Jay proposed.

I nodded timidly, and followed the tom's pawsteps that were sunken into the peaty ground.

An old, run-down Twoleg den came into view, and I instantly tensed. "Is this it?" I asked in astonishment.

Jay glanced back, hurt, giving me a curt nod.

"Come meet the others," he muttered stiffly.

Jay grunted, pushing himself through a hole that led to the interior of the den.

Being smaller, I was able to leap through it with ease.

Several unfamiliar scents hit his nose, and I instinctively bristled.

A pair of piercing emerald green eyes met his, as a pale brown tom emerged from behind a colorful lumpy shape.

"Jay," he snarled. "Why did you bring some kit here?"

I watched fearfully as the tom's mouth moved in anger.

Jay fluffed his fur defensively. "He's hurt, Thistle, and he's just a couple of moon-cycles old! Have some pity for once!"

Thistle snorted. "It's time you stop taking in outsiders that you can't take care of, Jay. Remember last time?"

I observed Jay scrape the ground with his paw nervously. He must be losing the battle, I thought.

"It wasn't my fault the dog just happened to be there!" Jay hissed.

I summed up the courage inside of myself, mewed as boldly as possible, "Stop arguing, please."

"And the kit decided to talk, eh?" Thistle sneered.

I couldn't hear the tom, nor did I want to. I noticed Jay say something to the tom, and the expression on Thistle's face became even more scornful.

"He's deaf, Jay? Why didn't you tell me this before? Poor kit," Thistle scowled sarcastically.

"Now he's even more of a nuisance!"

"I'd shut up if I were you," Jay hissed.

"What are you going to do to me? Use that deaf, stupid kit to defend yourself?" Thistle scoffed.

Suddenly, a raspy voice broke their heated argument. "You two, break it up."

"Tank?" Thistle whispered, loud enough for the older tom to hear. "He's too old to to stop us."

Tank narrowed his eyes. "Thistle, you said it yourself. The young one's just a kit. Leave him and Jay alone."

"Whatever you say, wise one," Thistle muttered.

The pale brown tom turned around with a disdainful flick of his tail.

I cautiously padded over to Jay, as he mewed in Tank's ear. The old cat nodded in respect.

"Thank you," I mewed softly.

Tank merely nodded, before I could move my tail.

"Show the kit somewhere to sleep, Jay. Remember, you're the one in charge of him."

Jay nodded, and motioned me over.

My tail automatically moved its way in place.

"There's a pillow over there that you can sleep on," he mewed.

"What's a pillow?" I asked curiously.

Jay blinked. "I'm not sure, that's just what Tank and Ernie call them."

My eyelids felt heavy. "Thanks for everything, Jay."

"It's no big deal," he rumbled.

The tom padded away, jumping up onto a pillow of his own.

My eyes closed, and I fell into a restless sleep.

Chapter 2


"Look who's here!" Thistle's menacing drawl came from a bush nearby. Where was he?

"It's the deaf, silly little kitty!"

I spun around, searching for the pale brown pelt.

"Idiot! You'll never find me, kitten!"

Suddenly, Thistle appeared in front of my eyes.

His claws glinted in the bright sunlight that streamed into the clearing.

"No one needs a useless kit like you! You're mommy won't even miss you!"

He brought his paw down, closing in on my throat.

I woke up to a paw prodding into my side.

A light ginger she-cat loomed over me. She stepped back, a worried expression on her face.

I moved my tail so I could hear her words.

"Are you okay?" she mewed anxiously.

"I-I'm perfectly f-fine," I stammered. "Just a bad dream."

"Alright... If you ever need to talk to someone, you can ask me."

I nodded, thankful for her kindness.

"Also, Swift, Thistle, and Ernie are out hunting.They'll be back soon."

She turned around before going back to her pillow. "By the way, you can call me Rose."


Another paw, this time jabbing into my ribs woke me up. It was Jay.

"We need to get out of here; there are Twolegs coming!" he rumbled in a panicked tone. I struggled to keep my tail to his throat as I followed him out the hole in the rear end of the den.

"Ernie says they were carrying "saws" and "axes," and that the Twolegs were going to most likely tear down the den," Jay explained.

"What are we going to do now?" I asked.

Jay didn't say anything for a moment. "We might have to find a place in the forest," he breathed out slowly. "Let's just catch up with the others and see what the situation is."

I stumble behind the broad shouldered tom, with millions of questions flying around in my head.

What are saws and axes? How does Ernie know what they are? How are we going to make a living in the forest, if the Clans already occupy most of it?

"We're leaving the Twolegplace," Thistle announced, when they reached the edge of the brick dens. "The dangers there have increased. We lost Phillip and Gwenneth because of the chaos."

I watched Thistle solemnly speak, and although I could not hear him, I knew that he truly wanted the best for his mate and the cats he lived with.

Jay quickly paraphrased Thistle's words to me, adding that we would shelter underneath the trees of where we had stopped.

"I'm going to get some prey, with Tank and Rose. Would you like to come along? If we get enough quickly, maybe I can teach you how to hunt - even if you can't hear."

I nodded in excitement, and felt giddy as I followed the three cats into the woods. The fresh smell of the forest filled my nostrils, reminding me of home.

I felt a pang of sorrow. My mother. How was she coping with the loss of what was most likely her last litter? Who was comforting her? Anger replaced the sadness. I should be the one who's there.

I shook the thought off my mind, and watched closely behind a bush as Jay hunted. He had a powerful leap so he was able to catch prey from a further distance, and also claw birds from the air.

He beckoned me over. "Try copying what the hunting crouch I demonstrated. Don't worry, if you don't get it the first time, you can try again."

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