Gray Skies - Book One

Chapter One

The ShadowClan camp was almost empty with most of its warriors out hunting and patrolling. Elders dozed in the new-leaf sunshine, the medicine cats were drying their herbs, remaining warriors shared tongues with one another, and queens slept peacefully in their nests while their kits played. 

Four kits sat outside of the nursery, three of them stared up at the fourth kit as he sat atop of a rock next to the nursery. 

"We will attack ThunderClan on my signal," the brown and white tabby tom mewed, his small blue green eyes sparkling. "Ready Nightkit?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be!" Nightkit, a brown she-kit with a black muzzle and paws, purred as she looked up at her leader. 

"Alright then!" The tom kit jumped down from his rock and faced the other two kits who had been watching. "ShadowClan, attack!"

Nightkit listened to her leader's cry before she jumped on a hazel she-kit with blue eyes that shone with determination. Nightkit kept her tiny claws sheathed as she pressed her paws down on the kit's side.

"You ShadowClan rats won't win!" She hissed playfully as she wriggled away from beneath Nightkit's paws. "Cottonstar will make sure of that!"

"Not if Tigerstar kills her first!" Nightkit bushed out her fluffy fur and circled around the she-kit. Nightkit and her sister Hazelkit were both five moons old. They would be turning six moons old in a couple days, and Nightkit couldn't wait to be an official ShadowClan apprentice.

A dramatic yowl suddenly came from the tom kit as a gray she-cat with white paws, a white underbelly, and a white muzzle pressed her nose to Tigerkit's - or in this case, Tigerstar's - neck as he laid still on the ground. He let his tongue loll from his jaws as he laid stiffly on the ground.

"ThunderClan wins!" Hazelkit lashed her tail with triumph. "I told you Cottonstar would make sure of that!"

"Whatever," Nightkit muttered as Tigerkit got up and shook his brown and white fur. Cottonkit, his sister, pounced on his back and ruffled his fur. They were only a moon younger than Nightkit and Hazelkit but acted like they were a moon old.

"You're just mad you lost the battle!" Haazelkit teased.

"You don't know that!" Nightkit bristled, gripping the earth with her claws. If she admitted to being angered by losing to her denmates it would make her look weak. ShadowClan cats weren't weak!

"Okay, okay! Calm down!" Hazelkit purred as the thorn tunnel that marked the entrance to camp rustled and three cats slid through the tunnel and into camp. There was a small fawn-and-yellow tom which Nightkit knew to be Shortleaf who was followed by a pale golden-and-white she-cat with tired amber eyes named Minnowcall. Behind them was a small ginger-and-white she-cat Nightkit recognized as Wolfpaw.

Flamepath, a dark sandy she-cat who was one of the Clan's elders, raised her head from where she lay in a patch of sunlight. "Good hunting, eh?"

The three cats were each carrying a piece of prey. Shortleaf had a plump brown squirrel dangling from his jaws, its bushy tail dragging against the ground, Minnowcall had a frog in her mouth, and Wolfpaw laid a lizard in a circle of stones known to be the fresh-kill pile. Shortleaf laid his squirrel next to Wolfpaw's lizard as Minnowcall laid her frog on top of both pieces of prey. 

Shortleaf flicked his tail at Minnowcall and Wolfpaw before turning to Flamepath. "Newleaf has brought us good hunting so far," he purred, blinking his green eyes warmly at the elder.

"I expect a full fresh-kill pile at the end of the day," Coldmask grumbled from where he lay next to Flamepath with his head on his paws and his eyes closed. The two elders were mates that had grown old together and raised two kits: Deadwing and Creekfeather who were loyal senior ShadowClan warriors.