Two Rogues are a Clan (INCOMPLETE, DNP)

[Gloo Soda]

Something I put together for my level-up tasks, that needed to be transferred to CS.

Check out my RISE thread for MetalClan!

I only have one chapter so far (will be posted below), but I will update this whenever I have time!

[Gloo Soda]

The sound of shouting Twolegs blared in the unnamed cat’s ears as he scrambled through the streets with a plump rat in his jaws. This rat was different --- differently colored, much cleaner, and oddly well-groomed, much unlike the scrappy monsters that used to give him trouble. He realized far too late that the rat he was running off with was, for some reason, supposed to be in a Twoleg nest, and escaped. What odd creatures they were, keeping rats in their nests! Grooming them like a kittypet, even!

Thankfully for the rogue tomcat, he was much faster than the pounding legs of the hairless things chasing him, even with his delicious new catch weighing him down. He felt bad, of course; he didn’t like to steal things from the Twolegs when he didn’t have to, and he didn’t know before he killed the prey for fresh-kill that it belonged to them. But, well, it was dead now, so there was no point in leaving it behind and wasting it. At least he had an excuse, though it wasn’t like there was any shortage of rats here.

Soon he lost them, and hid himself among more Twoleg objects in a dark alleyway so he could eat in peace. He took a bite of the rat, and was floored at how different it was from street rats --- in a good way. But he just barely finished swallowing his first bite before he was interrupted by the wails of a nearby cat, crying from underneath some cardboard rubble near a huge metal crate. The tomcat stood up and stretched, and padded over quietly to the mewling pile of scraps. He stretched out a paw and gently tapped a piece of cardboard, and jumped back when the wailing suddenly grew louder. Any more of this, and the Twolegs might come to investigate, and there goes his peaceful meal. He gripped a scrap in his jaws and twisted himself to fling it away from the pile before going back for another and another, until he finally found the source of the cries.

A tiny, squirming bundle of brown fur cried out into the air that was finally exposed above it. Just a kit, that looked barely even a moon old. A kit that looked like it should be around the age where it could move around by itself, yet it was struggling underneath Twoleg trash. He pawed at the kit, and could easily feel bones under its thin fur. He picked up the crying kit, padded back to his unfinished fresh-kill, and set the kit down next to it. The tom watched as the pitiful thing tried to nibble off pieces of it. It’ll eat at its own pace, he thought. Better that it eats slowly, at least it’s getting fresh-kill. He couldn’t help but wonder if the tiny kit had to survive on whatever crow-food it happened to stumble upon, since there’s no way it could hunt like this. Whatever it had been doing was clearly not enough, as it was already on the edge of death. But where was its mother? Or its father?

He would ask later, he thought. He was more concerned with making sure the kit was safe. But he stopped and spaced out while the kit at his paws was eating his prey. Concerned about a kit I never met? What am I, a nursing she-cat? He licked a paw and ran it over his ear. No, that’s not it. I just didn’t want this little tail-chewer whining loud enough to attract unwanted attention. As soon as it’s not starving anymore, it’s on its own. He couldn’t even tell at a glance whether the messy little creature was a tom or a she-cat. Something else he’ll have to figure out later, he supposed.

As much as he denied that he cared for the kit, he still couldn’t help but give the kit’s head a few comforting licks. Its cries had died down to more content mewling as it ate.

“Hey, save some for me too, will you?”

The kit looked up in startled surprise. “Oh, sorry---”

“I’m only joking. I can always catch more for myself anyway. Besides, this is better for a kit. Cleaner and better meat. I can deal with eating the street rats.” He laid himself down beside the kit, making sure to keep it warm. “What’s your name, runt?”

The kit sat up and pouted, swiping its tongue over its muzzle. “Not a runt...And I don’t have a name. My mother never named me.”

The tom gave the kit a sympathetic stare. “You too, huh?”

The kit looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Really? Somebody should name you!” It jumped up onto its paws, suddenly full of energy. “Uh, let’s see…uh…. Um….”

He chuckled and pushed the kit back onto the ground. “Glad you’re feeling better. Calm down and rest. I don’t need a name, I’ve done just fine without one. But, uh....well, are you a tom, or---”

“I’m a she-cat! You couldn’t tell?”

“You just look like a scrap of messy fur to me right now.” He bent over and gave her a few more licks. She obviously had not been cleaned by her mother for some time, and she didn’t seem to be able to take care of herself yet, either. “Not to be insensitive, but where is your mother? Or your father? Aren’t they taking care of you?”

The kit shuffled her feet uncomfortably and paused, not entirely sure how to answer. “She’s been gone for almost a moon. I eat what the big hairless things leave outside. I haven’t been able to catch any rats.” As she finished talking about the rats, the tomcat noticed some wounds while cleaning her fur. They were hard to see in the darkness of the alleyway, but there was the unmistakable metallic scent and taste of blood on her back and hind legs. If she was attacked by rats, then it was a miracle that she was even still alive, and without any infections. Not yet, at least; he would have to keep an eye on her injuries. Meaning he would have to bring this kit around with him everywhere he went. Even without the rat bites, she probably wouldn’t be able to survive out on her own anyway.

No, wait, don’t do this. There’s no way you can do this. “Really? Well, then…” You can’t care for a kit. You’ve never had a mate, you’ve never had kits. What does a nameless rogue know about raising kits? “You should come with me for now, then.”

Now you’ve gone and done it.

The kit looked up from her paws. “You mean that?”

The tom thought for a moment. If he couldn’t stop himself from taking this kit as his own, then maybe it wasn’t a horrible idea. In fact, considering where he was going…

“Yeah. I mean that. I can’t just leave you out here by yourself, you’re too young. And I hate to say it, but it doesn’t seem like your mother is coming back for you. At least until we find her, if we do find her, you can come with me.”

“Cool! But...Come where?”

He paused for a moment, not sure how to explain. How could he make a kit understand? “Well...outside of Twoleg territory. Away from them, where there’s prey to eat. Better prey, not just these filthy rats. And a warm den to sleep in, with a little work.”

She tilted her head. All of that sounded a little too good! “Really? There’s a place like that?”

“There is. It’s not entirely safe, but it’s not much more dangerous than life here. Have you...ever heard of the Clan cats? The cats that live out in the wild, forming their own societies, living and working together?” He dipped his head, realizing that what he’s saying probably makes no sense to a tiny kit.

“I’ve heard of them before, but I don’t know what they are.” She curled up closer to the tom, content and full from the fresh-kill. “But it would be nice to have an actual home. And maybe a name. I wish someone would name both you and me.”

Something in him felt warm. He felt close to this kit, as if she were his own daughter all along. It was a feeling he was chasing by seeking out the life of a Clan cat --- a family. He just never had a friend to go with him. Life out in the woods, away from the Twolegs and where prey is plentiful, sounds like a dream come true to him. But if it were just him, it’d be far too lonely. And one cat does not make a Clan.

But perhaps two cats could.

“And there is a force out there that can. Amazing cats we have never met. We just have to find them.”

Even if it’s only just them living out in the wild together, he would be okay with that. Something about raising this kit as his daughter filled him with a happiness he hadn’t felt in years, not after his best friend went missing many seasons ago. It’ll never be a replacement for his old friend. But raising a kit of his own in peace out in the forest, following the way of the Clan cats, and trying to do good by the ancestors they refer to as “StarClan”sounded like the kind of life that would truly make him happy. He knew that this was the only way he could truly start over. There was something he wanted to do with his life. He was sure of it. He just didn’t know exactly what it was.

All he knew is that to do it, he needed to leave his old life behind. He needed to find StarClan.