Warrior Cats: BloodClan Hunger Games

Downfall of BloodClan

A few people have asked for me to continue the book, and I have thought for a while on what I should do... I thought maybe do another Hunger Games battle, but it would take too long and I'd rather not - though once Reedstar's Selfishness is finished, I might do it and change this chapter around later on...

October 15th, 2017: I have a few ideas on continuing BloodClan Hunger Games, and Reedstar's Selfishness too. Looking back on my books from 2 years ago or more makes me want to do a more realistic version, hence why I edited a couple of my books lmao. Hope the book is better than it was!

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Without the dead cats I had sent to the last Game, BloodClan had grown soft. Many whispered to each other at the edges of camp with their heads bowed in secrecy. Most patrols stayed out of camp more than usual and would only come back with a couple pieces of prey and no reports. There were only a few cats I could still trust. Ice was born to be a BloodClan leader, I could see it in his cold eyes and hear it in his menacing voice when he would scold the apprentices or demand more prey to be brought back.

Brick had always been loyal to BloodClan, even before I was taken in by Scourge, but it was obvious he was a bit more soft than the rest. He didn't ever demand, he asked politely. Now Brick was growing old and weaker as the sunrises came and went. A couple of the apprentices still tried to impress me, but the majority simply avoided any confrontation. Even my guards were growing distant, including Lostface. I bet they don't think I notice... For the past quarter-moon it had been nothing but hushed voices and uneasiness. The only cats who really spoke to me were Ice and the guards. The rest of BloodClan would keep their gaze down and pretend they didn't see me. Even Bloodcreek and Deathmist, new bloodthirsty warriors, walked past me like I was no more than an elder.

A moon had gone by since Icefeather had left me silenced from her speech. There had barely been a fight, let alone an argument. Only a few had broke out over the last morsel of meat; they mainly only talked to their own groups and kept to themselves. My paws were itching to see blood spilled again. It's been so calm for so many sunrises... Cowards! Icefeather might have actually gotten to them...

Silently, I lay under the shade of a thick patch of bracken, my flank and the ground beneath me lined with stripes from the sun shining through the leaves. The clearing had begun to dry out from the lack of quarrels; spouts of grass had started to pop up here and there. Pine needles and dead leaves were littering the ground again. There had been many rainstorms, but none were heavy enough to seep far into the ground to keep mud in the clearing from the many paws that trampled through daily.

Flicking my ear, I narrowed my eyes at the cats talking with each other. At the entrance to the camp, Tawnypelt had her three eager kits bouncing around her paws. She was speaking to Jaggedtooth and Brambleclaw, who were on guard in the camp. Those guarding in the camp made sure no cat left without reason. Tawnypelt's ears went flat to her head and her tail flicked to the nursery off on the far side of the clearing. Jaggedtooth bared his teeth while Brambleclaw reassured the guard. After only a few more moments of convincing, the two guards allowed the queen to leave camp with her kits. Brambleclaw touched his nose to his sisters ear as she padded off. He too is growing soft... Squealing with delight, the kits hurried out with their mother hurrying to keep up. Jaggedtooth caught my eye for a split heartbeat, annoyance flooding his amber eyes, but I didn't stare for long. Instead, my gaze wandered the clearing.

Beside the nursery, Timber and Snapper were talking to each other with their mouths full of prey. Closer to the left side of me, Rowansting and Sorreltail were sharing tongues under the shade of a boulder. Disgusting, I thought with a wrinkle of my nose. There was no room in my mind for a she-cat to worry about, let along a bundle of fur-balls biting my tail and clawing at my back! I had no envy toward the queens with their needy kits.