Force of Fire
Leader: Blood (longhaired russet tom with green eyes)
Second In Command: Strike (pure white tom)
Third In Command: Flicker (dark brown-and-white she-cat with dull golden eyes)
Sword (brown tom)
Boulder (black she-cat)
Midnight (sleek black she-cat with pale blue eyes)
Hawk (pale gray she-cat)
Fox (one-eyed ginger tom)
Ember (bright orange tabby tom)
Icefall (white tom)
Rose (cream tom with a short tail)
Viper (tortoiseshell and white she-cat)
Hail (white she-cat with black stripes)
Thorn (black-and-ginger tom)
Feather (dark gray she-cat)
Willow (pale brown tom with dark brown stripes, hunter)
Fury (white she-cat with a dark brown stripe along her spine, soldier)
Snowy (tiny white tom with yellow eyes, soldier)
Frost (pale gray she-cat with a white chest and a white stripe along her forehead, hunter)
Oak (calico she-cat, Blood’s mate) mother of Dusk (white she-cat with ginger patches), Nightfall (dark ginger tom with black stripes) and Wing (gray-and-black tom)
Breeze (black-and-white she-cat, Sword’s mate)
Flight (pale brown-and-white tabby tom, not related to Flightwind from Raging War in any way)
Thistle (black she-cat with a white tail and green eyes)
“What should we name them?”
“I think the ginger-and-white she-cat should be Dusk, and the black-and-ginger tom Nightfall.”
A small disturbance was taking place, however. A gray-and-black tom had just appeared, out of nowhere.
“He doesn’t look like either of us!”
“Still, Blood, he deserves a name. And I think he looks a little like me, with the black spots.”
“Why don’t you name him, then?”
“His name is Wing.”
Something in Blood seemed to crack. He had expected a ridiculous name, for being the outsider. Trash or Dirt would work. Blood hurled himself onto his mate and snapped her neck.
The three kits were left without a mother. They would not survive.
Suddenly Blood had an idea. Grabbing his kits, he set them down in the thicket.
“What was your nightmare about this time?”
“I saw a cat get killed by... a fox,” I admitted. Although, the cat did look familiar. It was my mother, Oak. However, the last time I told her about my dream, she said I was going crazy. Oak doesn’t like me at all, but I don’t know why.
Perhaps it wasn’t a nightmare. It might’ve been my wish.
“Go to the servants and clean their nests out,” Oak snapped. “And be back by sun-high!”
“He’s your kit! Stop treating him like a servant yourself!” That was Breeze. She would always stand up to Oak. I wanted to stay with her, and not the monster that was Oak.
“Do what you like, Wing. That horrible creature can’t ruin your day again.”
“Thanks, Breeze, but I think I’ll visit the servants.”
It was Flight.