The Warror's Hunger Games

Chapter One, Part one- pages 1-5

When I wake, the other side of the nest is cold. I stretch out a paw, seeking the warmth of Primrosepaw, but finding only empty moss. She must have had a nightmare and climbed into my mother's nest. Of corse she did. Today is the reaping. 

  I lift up my head, and see through the morning light in our den their sleeping shapes. My younger sister, Primrosepaw is curled up against my mother soft side. Their cheeks are pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn from her work but not so beaten down. Primrosepaw's face is as fresh and lovely as a newly blossomed primrose, for which she was named. My mother was beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me. 

  I stand up and stretch, that give myself a quick grooming. Then a grab my forage bag. On the table, under a wooden bowl, is a little price of goat cheese, wrapped up in basil leaves. Primrosepaw's gift to me on reaping day. I put it carefully in my forage sack then slip outside.  

Our part of Coalclan, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out for the morning shift by this time. Toms and she-cats with slumped shoulders, who have long since stopped trying to clean the coal dust out from under their claws. But today the black cinder streets are empty. There is nothing stirring. The reaping isn't until sunhigh. May as well sleep in, if you c

  Our den is on the edge of the seam. I only have to pass a few others to reach the scruffy field called the Meadow. Separating the Meadow from the woods is a high chain link fence topped with barbed wire. In theory, it's supposed to be electrified twenty four hours a day, to keep the predators out of Coalclan. But since we're lucky to get two or three hours a day, it's usually safe to touch. Still, I always stop to listen for the quiet hum that means the fence is alive. For now, it's silent as a stone. I flatten down to the ground and slide under a cat-length of fence that's been loose for years. There are several other weak spots in the fence, but this one is closest to our den, so I almost always alway enter here. 

  As soon as I get into the woods, I'm on high alert, my ears pricked and my nose up. Electrified or not, the fence has kept the flesh eaters out of Coalclan. Inside the woods they roam free, and there are added concerns like snakes, rabid animals, and no real paths. But there's prey if you know how to find it. My father taught me before he was killed in a tunnel collapse. We never even got to bury his body, it was crushed at down in the ground.  I was three moons old then. Five moons later, I still wake up yowling for him to run. 

  Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalties, more cats would risk it if they knew how to hunt.  My ability to hunt is a rarity, taught to me by father. He could have made good money teaching others, but if the officials found out he would be publicly executed for inciting a rebellion. Most of the Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to the few of us who hunt because they're as hungry for fresh meant as the rest of us. In fact they're amoung our best customers. But the idea that someone might be arming the Seam would never have been permitted. 

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Author's note: so here is page one! Sorry it's so short. So that you all know, there will be no Buttercup in this story. I know I could have substituted him with a rabbit or something, but I just didn't feel like that was a good idea. I mean, even if this is a fictional story where cats use electricity and wear jewelry and dye their fur ( coming later in the story) I just don't think that they would keep anything as a pet. Katniss would probably eat it ;) also, no bow and arrows for Katniss. Even though the cats in my story can do a lot of things a normal cat would not do, no cats would ever be able to use a bow. That's all I can think of for now. So I guess that's it, please comment if you have any questions or suggestions.