Recruit {Warriors}

•{Chapter 1}•

It was a gloomy day. The days seemed to be gloomy all the time, now that leaf-bare had come. On the edge of the town, sitting round the back of an abandoned apartment block was one cat. Well, several cats, but one cat sat to the side, secluded. The cat in question was a sleek, dark grey shecat with a pale belly, neck an muzzle. Her eyes shone brilliant, electric gold in the frames of her dark-striped face. The shecat was stocky-legged, and short too. Shorter than most cats. She rose from her corner between two bins, and padded in through the back doors to the old apartment block.

On the ground floor, the most general activity happened. Cats congregated to eat, interact and play. There was a crumbling mound that had once been a desk, where the deputies, five second-in-commands, sorted out patrols and the like. The dark grey cat slunk past, eyes low and long, thick-furred, smooth tail dragging on the ground. She headed up the steps at the end of the floor and passed the first and second floors. She paused at the third floor, and then entered.

The third floor was carpeted in soft materials and nests. It was the Queen's Floor, where the queens and their kits lived. There was a strict rule in BloodClan: no tom may enter the Queen's Floor unless he is a kit. At night, it was noisy, cramped and hot. But during the day, the only cats who remained were the queens whose kits were too young to leave the nest.
Next to one of the walls was a tyre. A huge tyre. Every night the kits lined up and measured their heights against it. The moment the kit was a full head taller, they were to begin training. Most kits only got to that height at about four moons. The dark grey tabby was a dwarf though. Tiny. She was six moons old today, and still a kit. Her mother, a slender, golden tabby shecat, was talking in the nest. The shecat looked up as the dark grey tabby approached.

"Quail?" Sunflower, the golden tabby, asked. "What are you doing back inside?"
"He's not there yet." Quail replied. The sleek, dark shecat lowered her golden eyes. Her father, Crag, was meant to collect her and take her to the top floor, where she'd be assessed by the BloodClan leader, Harrow. It was most likely to be the first and last time Quail would ever interact with the leader of the Clan.
"He is now." A deep tom's voice rumbled, and she turned to see her father, Crag. He was a hefty, sleek, mottled brown and grey tom with amber eyes. Crag sported a short, stumpy tail and several gruesome scars, but his eyes shone with a kindness unknown to most cats in BloodClan. "Ready to go?"
"As I'll ever be." She replied. Quail dipped her head to her mother, than turned and followed her father.

The top floor was drafty. Sitting amongst a mound of soft feather-lined, mossy nests was a young cat. Quail's breath caught in her throat. She'd expected some cat older, not such a young one.
He was tall, and dark ginger in colour. He had lighter flecks throughout his coat, and dark green eyes. This was Harrow?

"This is your daughter?" The ginger tom asked, rising and elegantly padding over. He wore a dark green collar that matched his eyes, and it was lined with teeth and claws. Crag nodded.
"Very well. Leave us." The tom said, and Crag left. Quail stood perfectly still as the tom circled her, taking in every detail.

"You're very short." He decreed disparagingly.
"Sorry I'm not as big as you, Harrow." Quail replied, struggling to keep her tone even. Who cared how big she was? Harrow had paused, and Quail tensed.
"My name is Reed." He murmured in her ear, and she shifted away. "Harrow was my father."
"Oh. I'm sorry for the loss." Quail responded. Reed smirked. "What?"
"You're very polite." He replied. "You'd make a good spy."
"Then make me a spy." Quail huffed. Reed's green eyes were alight with amusement.
"Am I really so bad?" He asked, brushing against her pelt. Quail shied back again with a hiss.
"Yes!" She snapped. Reed stopped and blinked.
"Okay." He mewed evenly. "You will be a rookie recruit."
"A spy after all?" Quail growled, flicking her tail. Reed nodded, then curtly turned his back. Quail rolled her eyes and turned.
"Quail." Reed's voice made her turn. "Be careful."
"What do you care? You run BloodClan." Quail replied sassily, before exiting the den.