Warriors: Shattered Blossom

Chapter One

Cragkit snuggled close to Strikefeather's soft belly, his nose buried in her warm, milk-scented fur. A gentle purr thrummed in his chest at the steady beat of his mother's heart, shrouding him in happiness and comfort.

    His bliss was shattered in an instant as claws began to pummel his belly.

    "Strikefeather!" Cragkit wailed, his amber eyes flashing with dismay. He squirmed to escape the writhing black shape beside him. "Nightkit's clawing at me again!"

    A grunt expelled from Strikefeather's chest, and her feathery tail drew up between the two kittens. Nightkit's squirming subsided, and Cragkit's fright calmed as his mother's rough tongue rasped between his ears. "Another nightmare, Nightkit?" Strikefeather mumbled sleepily, turning to address the other tom.

    "Yeah!" Nightkit nodded earnestly, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "This time, I dreamed that Cragkit looked at me. It was horrible!"

    Strikefeather, though sluggish with exhaustion, gently cuffed the little black tom over the ears. "That's no way to speak about your brother."

    "But it's true! He looks like a cat with a mouse's face!"

    Cragkit scowled, flipping around to perch his paws on Strikefeather's tail. "Do not."

    Nightkit thrust his muzzle in Cragkit's face. "Do too!"

    Cragkit uttered a wordless growl, and instead of arguing any further, he squirmed back into the nook of Strikefeather's belly and buried his nose into her sweet-smelling fur. His body relaxed under her warmth, and darkness began to creep up behind his eyelids.

    Then, something fuzzy and heavy thumped onto his back.

    "Nightkit!" Cragkit cried. He flipped around with a hiss and kicked angrily at Nightkit's side, pushing his brother away as the black tom pealed with laughter.

    As soon as he was free of Cragkit's hold, Nightkit whirled around and launched himself at Cragkit. Cragkit rolled back into Strikefeather's belly with a squeak, squirming to escape as Nightkit began pummeling his face with his prickly kit-claws.

    "Kits, that's enough!" Strikefeather rose abruptly to her paws, sending the two tom-kits rolling. They stared up at her with wide, scared eyes once they'd settled. "Go and play in camp with the other kits," she growled, her eyes weary. "I'm too tired to deal with your nonsense today."

    "But Strikefeather," Cragkit protested feebly. "I'm tired, too!"

    "You should've thought of that before you fought with Nightkit," Strikefeather scolded softly. She leaned forward and gingerly pressed her nose between his ears, then turned and did the same to his brother. "Now, run along and play. Be sure to stay in sight of the camp."

    She flicked her gray tail, lightly brushing the two along. Cragkit stumbled over his sleepy paws, reluctant to move, but he gave himself an urgent shake to bring life to his body. With a scowl at Nightkit, he turned tail and scampered from the den before he could be lectured more.

    Bright sunlight sparkled into the ravine and warmed his gray fur. It was hot and dry, but a cool breeze flooded through the cracks and prickled against his skin.

    Cats milled about the camp, occupied with their own business. Some were sunbathing or sharing tongues, others were repairing dens, and the rest were fetching fresh-kill to eat and relax in the green-leaf sun. Much to Cragkit's delight, he realized that a few warriors were even bringing a fresh haul of prey to the pile.

    Sticking his tail high in the air behind him, he bounded across the clearing to where Bumbledusk and Grassystep were dragging a massive lump of gray fur across the earth.