The Wrath of Kan (wuuut star trek)

      It was a still cold night, only a day since the death of Dawnflight's death and the birth of her kits. The clan had grieved, cleaning her still pelt and burying her near camp, and since then had again focused on preparing for the rouge attack. The camp walls had been strengthened with thorns and brambles as well as dens. The four kits had been kept warm and cared for by Silverpaw and Scorchtooth constantly. Since there were no other queens in the clan they had been moved to the Medicine Cat Den. Cats spent their time trying to catch enough prey to fill hungry bellies and the rest of their time training and prepping for battle.
     Ghoststar crouched in her den. She had been in there since the death of Dawnflight, only coming out occasionally before disappearing again. Darkmoon had taken control for the most part, though sometimes she would mysteriously disappear off into the tangled forest. Snakefang would keep things in order when the black she-cat was gone. He constantly worried for the clan and felt angry at Ghoststar's behavior. She was the leader of the clan. It was her job to encourage everyone and keep the faith up, and yet all she did was hide in her den. The dark tabby tom often visited her and tried to coax her out, but it was hopeless. Ghoststar was somewhere far and distant in her mind. The stress seemed to much for her.
      "Where's Ghoststar, I need to talk to her about the kits." Scorchtooth shook his pelt out against the cold as he asked Snakefang. The warrior looked towards her den.
      "She won't want to be bothered." He said, his amber eyes dropping.
       Scorchtooth scoffed, his tail lashing once. "Won't want to be bothered, eh!" He stormed through the thin snow to the leader's den. Snakefang would watch him duck through the hanging lichen, hear them argue for a moment, and then watch as he came back out with a scowl on his face. The clan was losing faith and hope. The rouge attack was looming over their head, the death of their only Queen, and the dim future of the weak kits. What are we going to do? 

      Ghoststar layed in her nest, curled into a small ball. Her gray eyes stared ahead and her breath softly moved her white fur. She couldn't hear anything except the deafening silence of her den. How could she let Dawnflight die? The she-cat was so young. She should be here to raise her kits. If Ghoststar had tried harder, if she had been a better hunter and taught others to hunt better she could have given Dawnflight more prey. She could have kept the tabby cat's strength up. Then she would be here. She wouldn't be dead and cold somewhere deep in the ground. It's all my fault. I'm not a good leader. 
      And what of the rouges? They are going to come and just kill more cats. They destroyed a tribe that had been living in that territory for many many moons. Twilightclan had only been living in the dark, tangled woods for a few moons. Most of the cats hardly had any experience with fighting. They would be slaughtered like mice. Ghoststar started to shiver, not because of the cold. It's going to be all my fault. I'm not a good leader. 
     And what of the kits? They had no mother now. They would grow up orphans. Who would give them the love and affection they needed? No other she-cat in the clan was kitting and thus no other cat had milk to feed the young ones. They needed milk to suckle. They needed a mother's warm fur. Scorchtooth had been keeping them comfortable in his den with Silverpaw but they would soon starve. They needed a mother who was milking. Their future was dark and seemed hopeless. And it's all because I wasn't good enough. I'm not a good leader. 
     Snakefang would come in often, trying to get her to go out and talk to her clan. Scorchtooth would do the same, but more viciously with his words. And yet Ghoststar couldn't. She couldn't stand in front of those cats knowing she had failed them. The moment push came to shove she fell. Starclan was wrong to give her nine lives. Wrong to trust her with such a task as taking care of a clan. What good was she? The stress was closing in on her, making her vision blurry. Her ears began to ring. The silence was violent.
   
     "MRROW!" The silence was suddenly broken by a yowl in the clearing. The sound of snapping twigs and shuffling paws filled the air a few seconds before hissing and growling replaced it. Ghoststar was on her paws in a second, all her before thoughts swiped away for the moment as adrenaline pulsed through her. The she-cat bolted out of the den, the moonlight setting her fur in a white blaze. Cats were tumbling around, their eyes wide and teeth bared as claws ripped at fur. Eyes flashed in the moonlight at the camp walls. Ghoststar realized what was going on. The rouges had come. There were many of them, but most couldn't get through the camp walls without getting their pelts torn. Some found holes big enough to fit through and it would be long before they discovered the entrance and stormed in.
     Snakefang sent a rouge running, holding clumps of fur between his claws. The cat escaped through a hole in the wall, and another rouge leaped in to replace him. "Ghoststar!" Her friend bolted to her side. "They're here, we have to have a plan!" His amber eyes were wild and his hackles were raised. Ghoststar's milky gray eyes looked over camp another time. He was right.
     "We have to have cats defend the entrance to try and keep them out; two cats. And two more defend the medicine cat den. The kits are in there. They're our priority." More rouges were finding their way into the camp. Snakefang nodded.
     "Spade!! You and I will guard the entrance!" The dark tabby tom yowled to his former enemy, racing to the thorn barrier and posing himself to fight. Ghoststar looked around for more cats. "Brownfur! Owlflight!!" She brought the two she-cats together. "You need to guard the Medicine Cat den now!" They looked at each other, knowing the kits were in there and bolted to their positions. The rest of the cats would just have to try and fight off any cats from camp. We'll all have to try and stay alive.
      Ghoststar felt her insecurities threatening to consume her again. She squinted her eyes, crouching. The sound of fighting faded from her ears. She felt a cat brush her pelt. It was the Starclan cat that had visited her before, her deep red pelt gleaming in the moonlight. "Foxstar!" She mewed, her eyes widening.
     "Ghoststar, you don't have time for this. You need to pull yourself together. Twilightclan needs you to fight for them. Cats fight as hard as their leader. They need your confidence." Foxstar's eyes were stern. Ghoststar felt ashamed. She was right. "Don't doubt yourself. We chose you because you can handle it. You deserve the nine lives we gave you. Show them that." The cat faded as quickly as she appeared, but Ghoststar could still feel her presence beside her and all the other cats that had given her a life. She would do it. She would fight for her clan bravely, despite her fears. If she was to fail, if they were to die tonight, at least they should go out fighting. With a yowl, she threw herself into the fray.


(So! Here's the battle that we've been building up for! I know there aren't as many rouges really as I implied but that's because we needed more cats to fight. So although we have a set amount of developed characters for the rouges, you can also play just random cats to fight because they have greater numbers let's pretend. haha There's a post on the rouge blog too to sum up whats happening with them, so let the role playing begin!)

I colored this for the scene yo. It looks pretty rad. Not my art work though haha 

A Gain and A Loss

    "I'm going to need you to push."
    "It...hurts..."
     "I know it hurts but this isn't going to go any faster if you don't try!" Scorchtooth's gruff voice could be heard outside the Nursery. Cats sat around anxiously, some pacing in the snow, as they waited for the kitting to be a success. The odds were not looking favorable. The lack of prey the clan had experienced had affected Dawnflight. The white and ginger she-cat wasn't used to such cold weather or so little food. Her ribs were exposed underneath her thinning pelt and she had come out of the Nursery less and less.
     Her body quivered as she attempted to push, her belly not as hard as it should be. Scorchtooth encouraged her with as gentle as his tone could be, rubbing her belly and praying to star clan. With each passing moment the Queen grew more weak and exhausted.
     "Can't...I can't.." Scorchtooth looked at her desperately as she mewed the words. At this point, his focus was on saving the kits. Their mother wasn't going to make it.
     "I want you to bite onto this branch and give the best push you can. Think of the kits. They need you to be strong now." Silverpaw was watching, holding down the stick for her, with wide eyes. The ginger and white she-cat nodded feebly and bit hard onto the branch, her face twisting with pain. The first two kits slipped out. Scorchtooth scooped them up with gentle, quick paws. The black tom passed one to his Apprentice, "Lick it, get it breathing." He licked the other kit vigorously, praying they would be healthy and start mewling out.
     Scorchtooth felt relief rush through him when he heard a loud mewl come from the tiny kit. It was a tom, with dusky brown fur then deeper brown on his tail, paws, ears, and muzzle. "Alright, great. Great! You're doing great Dawnflight, just give us one more good push." He set the kitten by its mother's belly, feeling it as he did so. There were at least two more tiny bodies that needed to be kitted. Dawnflight moaned in pain, too weak to yowl out. Her eyes were unfocused and she lay there nearly limp, breathing hard. Scorchtooth felt a pang in his heart. These kits would live without a mother if they lived at all.
     Silverpaw set down her kit next to the brown one. It was a dark calico she-kit, with mixes of black, ginger, and white in her soft pelt. The two squirmed, nuzzling at each other as they figured out each other's scent. "Come on Dawnflight. I know you're strong." The Medicine cat apprentice crouched close to her and mewed encouragement. The Queen braced herself, biting the stick and giving one last push. The last two kits slipped out, both very still. Scorchtooth felt his heart beat skip.
     "Quick, start licking this one." He passed one kit to Silverpaw and grabbed the smaller one. It was an all ginger tabby she-cat that was smaller than all her siblings. The black tom licked it fiercely, wiling it to suck in its first breath of air. "Don't die on me.." He licked and licked until his tongue seemed raw. It was still and so fragile. Suddenly as Scorchtooth was about to admit defeat it opened its tiny pink mouth and mewled out weakly. It was weak, but it was better than nothing. The medicine cat continued to lick, rubbing it with his paws. He set it down next to Dawnflight when he was sure it was stable.
      "There!" Silverpaw purred as the kit she was licking cried out too. It was a mostly white tom with ginger tabby and black patches. She set the squirming kit next to the other three. Four kits. Four alive kits. Scorchtooth looked at Dawnflight, giving her a lick between the ears. Her sides heaved and she lay there, barely conscious. He felt the pain in his heart again. This wasn't the first time he watched a Queen die giving birth. And he wasn't surprised with the leaf bare conditions. But it still hurt him to lose a patient.
      "You did good." He purred to the drifting she-cat. "What will you name them?" Scorchtooth pulled them close to her muzzle so she could see. Dawnflight opened her eyes, taking in her little kittens. "The brown one...Oakkit." She gave him a weak lick. "The dark calico..Ravenkit." She was going unconscious. Scorchtooth encouraged here.
       "And the last two?"
       "The mostly white tom.. " He was the quietest of all his siblings as they mewled loudly for milk. "Silentkit. And last but not least," She purred weakly as she looked at her smallest ginger tabby kit. "Tinykit." Scorchtooth crinkled his nose. That was a harsh name to have. He didn't have time to question it. The white and ginger she-cat's eyes rolled back and she drifted off. He knew she wouldn't be waking up. He could only make her passing comfortable.
       Silverpaw looked at Dawnflight in shock. "She just passed out! We have to do something! What's wrong with her!" Scorchtooth set a paw on the light she-cat's shoulder.
      "There's nothing we can do. She's too weak. And she has been hurt during the kitting process. Sometimes you have to let patients go." Scorchtooth then really noticed the amount of blood around the nest. "We just need to be thankful the kits made it."
      "No! I won't accept that! They can't not have a mother!" She licked the Queen vigorously. "Wake up, Dawnflight! Come on, you can do it!" Scorchtooth tightened his jaw. What could he do? He didn't argue with her further, just let her panic over the slowly fading Queen. He pushed away the feeling eating at his heart. You can't save everyone. The black tom situated the kits back to their mother's belly for them to feed until she was with Starclan. Scorchtooth padded out of the den, raising his head to look at the crowd of cats awaiting. "Four healthy kits. Oakkit, Ravenkit, Silentkit, and Tinykit."
     The clan cheered, their hearts warm against the cold day and bitterness of a looming rouge attack. Scorchtooth didn't want to break the news to them. He wanted them to be able to be happy and at ease. But it had to be done. He couldn't change the fact that it was Dawnflight's time to join the cats in the stars. "Dawnflight..unfortunately..isn't going to make it. She lost a lot of blood and is very weak. Im sorry." The cheering stopped, the clearing dropping to unbearable silence. "Im so sorry." Scorchtooth dropped his head. Silverpaw's wails were heard inside the Nursery.

(So, JD wolf played Dawnflight and would have played her kits but I found that his account was deleted. Soo! The kits are up for grabs! Im going to play Oakkit and the other four can be played by whoever wants them. First come first serve! sorry that that was a depressing D=)

A Border Meeting

     Back at camp cats bustled as they followed Ghoststar's orders to prepare for the rouge attack. Brambles were being woven into the camp wall and dens strengthened, mentors were out with their Apprentices refreshing and securing their fighting skills, warriors had mock battles with each other, and herbs were sorted and resorted. Ghoststar had spent her day weaving brambles into the dense foliage that made the camp wall. Her white paws stung from being pricked and there was a good scratch across her nose. She now sat in her den taking a break from the cold and physical exertion.
      For the most part she was satisfied with the work that was being done. The camp was looking stronger and more fit for defense, cats were beginning to refresh and solidify their battle moves. Still, Ghoststar couldn't help but worry. The snow had killed most all the herbs in the forest and their stocks were running low. She could only prey they would have enough to heal cats after a deadly battle with rouges. Not only that, but the snow also affected the prey pile. Hunting had been a tough job in the past moon and the cats had only caught enough to keep off the edge of hunger. Will we be strong enough to fight for our lives? "Ghoststar?"
      The white she-cat jumped at the sound of her name. Featherstorm stood there with a mouse between her jaws, ears pricked. She dropped it at her leader's paws and took a paw step back. "I didn't mean to startle you, I just thought you'd be hungry. We had a successful hunt today actually." The silver she-cat purred, giving her cold paws a lick. Ghoststar purred gratefully, taking a bite of the warm creature. It was refreshing to have something warm in her belly.
       "Thank you, Featherstorm. You've turned out to be a very good warrior." She praised, tucking her paws in tighter beneath her. Her thoughts were swamped with images of cats pelts being torn and screeching in the air. The snow drifted by lazily, chilling the air and giving no comfort to the worried cat. Featherstorm puffed up her chest at the compliment, then noticed her leader's anxious behavior.
        "Ghoststar, are you okay?" Her ears swiveled back as she asked, blue eyes filled with concern. Ghoststar was about to answer that she was fine when there was a yowl from the Nursery. The white she-cat was on her paws in a second. The rouges have attacked! They've gone straight for the Nursery! She bolted toward the den, ignoring the numbness of her paws. The buzzing of her nine lives filled her body with energy and she was ready to defend the expecting Dawnflight against any and all rouges that dared show their claws. She felt Featherstorm hard on her paws.
         "Dawnflight are you okay!?" Ghoststar growled as she pushed into the den, her white fur bristling and claws unsheathed. The ginger and white Queen lay on her side, her plump belly tensing then relaxing over and over again. She let out another painful wail. Ghoststar realized what was happening. There was no scent or sign of rouges. Dawnflight was going to have her kits. Now? Of all times? When we're waiting an attack! Ghoststar felt a new rise of anxiety but pushed it away.
        "Featherstorm, fetch Scorchtooth now!" She snapped, beginning to lick the pain stricken Queen on the head. "Shh, its okay. You're going to be fine." Dawnflight's eyes were filled with anguish as she claws the den's bedding and quivered with effort. Scorchtooth hurry! 

***

   Outside of camp Spade, Snakefang, and Thistlefur continued their patrol. Snakefang had been lucky to catch a squirrel and dug in the hard snow to bury it to fetch later. The air was chill and quiet, the only sound was the soft crunching of the cats as they padded on through the trees, shadows being dappled across their pelts as weak sunlight shone through the branches. Spade suddenly stopped when a familiar, yet foreign scent met his nose. Roseclan. It was too strong to just be a old border scent mark. This was fresh. There was a patrol nearby. His green eyes searched the thinner trees across the border, narrowing when he caught sight of calico, black, and ginger fur. 

   Three cats were chatting happily as they remarked the border, kicking up snow as they went along. Snakefang noticed Spade had stopped and padded over to him. "Whats the matter? Snow froze you solid?" His tone was slightly lighter than when they fought in camp. The brown tom flicked his nose ahead to where the Roseclan cats were. Snakefang followed his gesture to see them, and his hackles immediately rose. Thislefur came beside them as his clanmates watched with narrowed eyes. "They better not cross the border." 

     Snakefang recognized Almonddash, their deputy. He was taking his clanmates dangerously close to the thin line of scent that separated the two territories. 

   

    Almonddash lead his patrol at a trot through the snow. They mewed about a good hunt they had yesterday when suddenly he stopped, raising his thickly furred tail. "Wait..." His nose twitched and his eyes began to scan across the border. Fresh Twilightclan scent. The calico tom's heart began to thud as he imagined Darkmoon crouching in the thick brush in Twilightclan territory. 

   Tension crackled in the air.