𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰'𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐞 - seasons of revenge - book three

Chapter 43

"Come on, you four!" There was a groan of frustration as a fluffy cream she-cat tapped her paw on the floor, blue eyes flaring with impatience.

Her four kits, three which were cream and grey pointed, like their mother, squabbled angrily between themselves, some bored, some disgustedly, and some begrudgingly.

"Oh come on you three! Stop being pushovers." The fourth cat, her only son, pushed behind his three sisters, even going to great lengths as pulling one of their tails.

"Raven!" Francesca scolded, and her son immediately stepped back, ears drooping with apology. Riley hissed at him in annoyance, and Raven looked back down in pity. She was personally his favourite sister to annoy, always having the best reactions to a simple ear swat or fur ruffling.

"Honestly, you still act like a kit at this age too!" Riley spat, and resumed a scowl of disgust at the shadowed alleyway with the most damp walls.

With one sniff and another piercing scowl, she took a step back and glanced down at her mother. "No thanks. I won't be staying here."

"Well you're gonna have to get used to it." Ridge drawled beside her, a beaming grin on her face. "Not going to be a wussy and run to be a kittypet are we?"

Francesca, particularly insulted by her daughters choice of words, after all, she had been a kittypet herself once. Ignoring the statement, she led her four kits further into the alleyway. Rook pressed to her side.

"Who do you think you are, barging in here?" The group of five was suddenly stopped by a strikingly handsome brown tom, who's hazel eyes were ablaze with caution.

Now that Raven did think of it, why were they here?

They'd never really talked or communicated with any of the alley cats, and ever with a Clan cat.

"I'm Francesca. And these are my kits, Rook, Riley, Ridge and Raven." The she-cat turned and looked back at her kits for a second, who now looked bewildered. Raven was sure he could now see shadows of ears poking out of cardboard boxes and glowing eyes staring at them.

He watched on as his mother gulped for a heartbeat, obviously thinking of an answer. They were all getting an answer now. The alley cats had no idea why they were here, and neither did Raven and his sisters.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" The brown tom asked yet again, cornering Francesca bit by bit away from her kits.

The black tom gulped at that, his three siblings huddling into eachother with horrified glances, especially when two more cats came jumping down from sodden boxes.

Both were bulky, weathered cats, by the look of it. One was a broad cream she-cat, with a scraggly pelt with mud at the ends and wiry whiskers. Her muzzle was now snowed with a light grey, and her eyes a once, cloudy blue, now sharp as frost. Behind her was a ginger cat, exact same shape and stature, except he was a bright ginger with sprinkled tabby stripes. His paws looked worn and two fangs jutted out, resting on his muzzle, an overbite, Raven realised.

"Buck, stop confronting the newcomers." The cream cat shook her head to the side, and the brown tom instantly moved to the side, away from Francesca. With a flourish he hadn't expected, the cream she-cat walked over to them, giving each cat a quick brief glance.

"What are you five doing in these parts? Runaway kittypets, perhaps a possibility. But your malnourishment says otherwise." She spoke with such a quick wit that it almost knocked Raven off his paws. Then he ducked in embarrassment at the noticeability of his ribs jutting out the side of his fur.