[Wolfin]

The old, blue-grey tom heard something. It was moonrise so it was probably just a blind hedgehog. The darkness had consumed the moorland where, further along, lay his home and family. Something else rustled. It wasn't just a small animal. He swivvled around the see the golden tabby pelt of Thornay. Storman chuckled warmly. She had been following him like she used to do as a kit. Storman had always felt like Thornay and her brother, Owlan, were like his own kin. His smile faded as he saw Thornay was panting heavily with fear shining in her greenish-blue eyes. A moment later her long-haired friend appeared. The white she-cat must be a terrible hunter, Storman thought.
"Storman, help!" Thornay panted. "It's Owlan, he's coming!"
The scruffy tom held her gaze for a few moments, studying her to see what she was meaning. Owlan was a good kit. A very strong, sturdy tom who had always stuck to the creed commandments. Or had he? Storman put one paw forward.
"Get behind me," he ordered quietly. "Now!"
The two she-cats quickly bounded around him and stood a little bit further back from him but still beside him. Storman felt their eyes watching him. They wanted to know what he was going to do. Storman wanted to know what he was going to do too.
His heart began beating heavily. The barren moorland left no hiding places. But Storman could see no movement. That was exactly what he feared. Something moved and his ears twitched. A russet red to appeared from behind a large tuft of grass. He was tall and scrawny. Storman was sure he had never met him before.
"That's the rouge!" Snoway yowled.
"He's not to be trusted," Thornay added in a calmer tone.
Storman nodded. He thought the scent was slightly familiar. Storman had smelled this ignorant rouge a few moonrises ago. Only a moment passed before the familiar pelt of Owlan slithered out of the grass. His dust brown fur was bristling with anticipation and he seemed unsure of something. Owlan ran his small pink tongue over his white muzzle. The white went down from his muzzle to his stomach. His eyes did not have the glow of a young cat like they did the moonrise before. What had happened?
"Owlan," Storman mewed with a warning tone. "What are you doing?"
The stocky tom hissed and arched his broad back. Storman took half a step back before Owlan lunged at him. The blue-grey tom opened his blue eyes wide while unsheathing his claws. Storman pounced off the ground and into the air.

WIP