Warrior Cats: Cascade

Chapter One

With one last glance out onto the moor, Doekit began her descent, stumbling down much faster and much more careless than Willowkit had. On the ground, her sister's tail twitched anxiously, one of many signs that she disapproved of Doekit's methods.

Her paws safely rooted to the grassy moor now, Doekit stretched her tense muscles, arching her back and and sticking out her hind legs on by one. Willowkit giggled. "You look like an otter," she mewled, stifling any more laughter.

Doekit stiffened, sniffing haughtily. "I'll have you know that otters are a graceful bunch, and I'd be happy to associate with them."

The fragile dam broke, and a fit of laughter left Willowkit in a frenzy. Both kits giggled uncontrollably, only stopping when a long shadow cast itself over the she-cats.

"Shouldn't you be off causing trouble?"

"Birdleap!" Both kits stood to greet the she-cat, purring as they cozied up to their mother.

"I was just fetching a rabbit from the other side of camp," Birdleap mentioned, gesturing her head to the furscrap at the nursery entrance. "I figured you two would be hungry, and Brackenwing always is." The queen gave a small chuckle, as did her children.

Doekit stumbled onto her paws, desperately trying to forget about the otter incident. Food was a good way to do so, and the grumble of her stomach only proved the fact to be true. At five moons old, Doekit and Willowkit had been eating real foods for a while now. They didn't eat as frequently, now that they had to actually move around to get their fill, rather than just mewling for Birdleap to come to the rescue. It was tasty though, and nothing compared to the hearty meat of a fresh, young hare.

As the family neared the rabbit, so did Brackenwing, the only other queen in camp. Her stomach seemed twice it's normal size, and she was always tired. Brackenwing was enjoyable company, though, when she wasn't sleeping, hungry, or in the medicine den for an overnight stay. This would be her first litter, and her mate, Grasstail, was constantly on alert, always buzzing around the nursery like a lost honeybee, constantly getting in the way of secret missions where secrecy was the key. He could at least pretend to be looking the other way when she and Willowkit passed.

"Willowkit said Peace Day was coming up; is that true?" Doekit asked doubtfully as Birdleap divided up the portions.

"In a moon or two, yes," Birdleap replied, unable to mask all of her excitement at the prospect. Peace Day only came once a year, and it was always a joyous time of celebration among the clans and tribes, cats and foxes alike. Mentors trained apprentices in special events, while the bravest warriors relearned battle moves in preparation for the games. Elders would tell wild stories of past quests and prophecies to any young cat that would lend an ear. This year was supposedly MoonClan's turn to host, which would mean traveling to the forest. Having never left camp, Doekit had only ever seen two trees in her entire life, and the very prospect of what something of that nature even looked like could and had kept her up all night. If unfortunate events didn't postpone her apprenticeship, she'd be able to compete in the junior events, and she planned to impress whoever she could with her soon-to-have skills.

Doekit took a bite of rabbit, not wanting to let it get too cold, though the sun might have been baking it, for all the heat that graced the moor. "You kits'll have den mates in a few days," Brackenwing mentioned, wonderment edging her words. "Any name suggestions?"

Like Grasstail hasn't already come up with an entire StarClan's worth of names, Doekit thought to herself, positive that now was not a good time to voice her opinion. Instead, she offered up, "What about Otterkit?"

Willowkit nearly spat out her mouthful of food. "Why, that's a lovely name," Brackenwing cooed. "I'll definitely think about it." Her sister tried to conceal her abundant laughter by swallowing the food, though she seemed to be unsuccessful. No matter how much she struggled, her laughter seemed to prevail.

It only took a moment for Doekit to realize that the look in Willowkit's eyes was not shock; it was pure panic. "Willowkit!" She leaped to her feet, all klutziness unlearned in a split second. In the same instant, both queens were in action.

"Get help," Brackenwing growled fiercely, somehow possessing characteristics of both an icy calm and a blatant fear. Though she looked as if she didn't want to leave her kit, Brackenwing wouldn't have been any good running to grab Russetpelt. Birdleap pelted off, muscles bunching and stretching with effort she hadn't had to use since she had first ducked under the arching roof of the nursery.

Willowkit doubled over, her entire body convulsing as it tried to cough up the piece of rabbit. Pain and fear gripped at her chest, making it even harder to breathe in precious air. Willowkit swayed, her strangled noises more desperate as she fought to both exhale and inhale at once.

Doekit let out a wail of helplessness, lashing her bristling tail in utter defeat. "Can't you do anything else?" She yowled at Brackenwing, who had busied herself in rubbing Willowkit's chest, murmuring soft phrases as she did so. The heavy queen sent a sharp glare Doekit's way, never stopping in her frenzied task.

"I'm doing all I can," she murmured, more to herself than anyone, as if trying to provide assurance in the fact. Her own fur had fluffed out, sticking up all down her scruff and making her seem twice as large. Fear scent ruined the affect, though Doekit wasn't free of the smell either.

Clanmates gathered around the scene, not yet competent of what was going on just yet. Gasps made their way through the crowd, swift as minnows down-stream, causing a ripple throughout the peaceful demeanor that the day had attempted to provide. Doekit wanted to scream at them to get back, to leave her sister be, but at this point, no words would slip off her tongue.

Somecat seemed to notice her presence, letting out a startled humph. Before she knew it, teeth met her scruff, and all she could do was fall limply into the carrying possition, save a vain kick of her hind paw. Every step that her captor took sent a jolt through her body, making her bite her tongue on several occasions. Blood welled from the cuts in her mouth, salty and unpleasant, threatening to drip from her mouth if she did not swallow.

Out of the corner of her eye, a flash of clay-colored fur bounded by, followed by the familiar smell of flowers; primrose, buttercup, maybe poppy? One of the three - no matter. The heavy, floral smelling figure had been heading straight for the crowd, not even bothering to update Doekit on what was going on.

"May I go back, now?" Doekit hissed, her voice strained from the stress on her throat. She squirmed weakly, knowing full well that her actions did nothing; whoever had grabbed her was much, much stronger.

A snort and a warm current of air were all that she would get in reply, whistling in her ear fur and providing an overall uncomfortable feeling. Doekit would shudder if she could. The voice did seem to comply, slowly lowering her to a soft patch of earth outside of the Warriors' den. She tensed her muscles, needing to further prompt to prepare for a dead sprint.

She wasn't the only one who foresaw the situation, however. "Promise you won't bolt?" Her captor spat through Doekit's scruff.

Torn, Doekit chewed lightly at the inside of her cheek. She could lie, but that wouldn't improve her reputation within the clan. Telling the truth wouldn't get her anywhere either; her paws wouldn't even make it to the ground.

With a defeated sigh, Doekit mumbled a small yes, feeling soil under her feet only a moment later. Regaining her balance, she stumbled forward a tail-length or two, turning around and glaring upwards defiantly. Her face fell when her own green eyes met the amused smirk of none other than CloudClan's deputy.

"Bearstep!" Doekit squeaked, her eyes wide.

Bearstep dipped his head, sitting down and flicking his stump of a tail. The story behind the length was a favorite of Willowkit's, typically told by Lilypaw, his apprentice. Since no elders lived in the clan as of now, the apprentices had taken over the duty of passing down stories.

"Russetpelt will take care of your sister," Bearstep meowed, tossing his head in the general direction of the crowd. "She knows what she is doing. Her skill is far beyond her years."

Doekit simply nodded, finding very little comfort in his words. She placed her head on her paws, staring sightlessly at the kit-soft white fur.

Stupid otters, she thought to herself, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over her, closing her eyes and forcing weariness to take hold. Doekit hoped beyond hope that Grasstail's names were better than her choice.