Ennnjjoooyyyy, prequel is Don't Mess with Time.
The title's Twice Said and Warned, cuz ""Don't mess with time" is a warning. This story is to warn you again by saying to not mess with time. :D You'll understand what the time is. 21:12, December 27, 2009 (UTC)
A pale sparrow fluttered over the misty lands. A blue-silver she-cat watched it carefully until it landed with grace on a leaf. The moon was still. So was the air, and the she-cat's breath. However, she had no intention to catch the bird in her eyes. But instead, it had a knowing sense in them...
"Birdfern, stop playing around, you know this is serious," she sighed.
Miraculously, the sparrow morphed into a beautiful light brown tabby she-cat with sparkling green eyes. She grinned, but the blue cat did not return the gesture.
Birdfern ignored her scold. "Where's Lemonclaw? Puddlefoot and Lemonclaw aren't complete without Lemonclaw," she yawned.
Puddlefoot returned an ignore. But she did answer her question. "Lemonclaw's out calming some mousebrains about border disputes."
Wrinkling her nose, Birdfern mewed, "I thought there were no borders in Starclan."
"There aren't," Puddlefoot replied with a roll of her eyes. Birdfern grinned; that was the carefree Puddlefoot that she used to be- until she died. Not that Birdfern knew her when Puddlefoot was alive. Puddlefern was an ancient Swayclan cat- Birdfern didn't even die yet.
"But let's cut to the chase," growled Puddlefoot. "Your own KIT is in this prophecy."
Birdfern, who was pawing a branch above their heads, turned to Puddlefoot and sighed. "I don't think we should worry about this yet."
"I think we do," the older she-cat argued. "The sooner the better."
"She's only a kit! And in this journey you say that she'll have to embark in... I don't get why you have to chose my she-kit," Birdfern mewed, baring her teeth as leaves fell from the branch.
Puddlefoot gazed at the new queen with soft sympathy swirling in her blue eyes. "I'm sorry. But I did not chose this, and you know it. I was just warned."
"I know... I'm sorry, Puddlefoot... But sometimes I wish it was just Rustkit. He can't get raped like she could be, while she's captive," Birdfern snarled at nothing in particular. The stars above glittered their empathy.
"She's not getting raped. The vision didn't show it," Puddlefoot tried to lighten up the mood. The happy had now turned angry, the serious now trying to comfort.
"Starclan doesn't show everything. They can't get everything right. Nothing's clear," Birdfern mewed with regret tinging her voice. "Like my prophecy..." Green eyes stabbed at the last leaf on the branch.
Drifting, floating down in the breeze, the leaf fell and landed softly on the tiny kit's nose. It took her by surprise, however. With a yowl, the ball of fur immediately formed tiny golden-green dots on her face- eyes.
"Fallkit, stop squirming," hissed something beside her. Fallkit's eyelids immediately drooped as she turned to see her sister. She was laying on her side. Calm. Back to sleep.
Shiningkit was named for her prettiness, and, at all times, there was a cat mooning after her, either romantically or not. Rustkit, their own brother, even said she was pretty. Which was pretty strange, Fallkit thought.
Fallkit, instead, was named for the dark splash on her forehead. As her mother, Birdfern, thought, it was like rain splashed on her, making the fur forever dark. She (Fallkit) always grumbled about it. Rustkit always laughed at it. Shiningkit always scolded it.
Grumpily, Fallkit eyed her sister with envy. Her shiny (tada, Shiningkit) silver pelt glittered, even without the moonlight. Those warriors patched up the nursery good, Fallkit thought cheerfully. No more flickering shadows scaring the living daylights out of Fallkit.
Her gaze moved to Rustkit.
Now RUSTKIT, he was a... something. Lofty and cool, in a mean way, Birdfern named him for the rusty red pelt he had. Swayclan didn't know what this "rust" was until Birdfern showed the rest of the clan what it was, near the twoleg dens. It formed on "metal". Ears flicking, Fallkit wondered how her mother knew all this stuff.
The three kits weren't the first kits born in the new Swayclan.
They shared the nursery with Marblekit and Softkit, Gladefrost's and Ospreyglint's kits. Birdfern was Ospreyglint's apprentice. Fallpaw yawned. She had waken up in the middle of the night- because of a leaf. What a courageous warrior I'll turn out to be, Fallkit thought meekly.
As she closed her eyes and lay back next to Shiningkit, Fallkit had one last thought: where did that leaf come from? The holes of the nursery were blocked... Her sister's breathing regulated her back to sleep at that final thought. But her mother's was tense, almost moving.
Like having a very realistic dream, Fallkit joked. Then she slept.
No one would also expect this pathetic looking black tom with a white paw to be anything CLOSE to a menace. Well, until you see his eyes.
Cold. Ice blue, Uncaring. Dark, yet pale. Something sinister and scary about it. Chills you.
Oh, how long that list to describe his eyes can go on forever.
And yeah, that blood-red collar with absurd (but still scary) dogs' teeth, and cats' teeth, imbedded into it, sort of signified that he was evil, but his eyes were just... yeah.
The cat was sitting on top of a garbage bin in a street of England. Another cat, thin and male, crept up to his garbage bin.
"My lord," panted a small, bony tom. "our water from the sewers have run out."
Scourge fixed his cold, iceblue, uncaring, dark, yet pale, sinister, and chilling eyes on him.
"And what in my business is this?" he asked in an unaturally high voice. Again, if not for his gaze, it would have been comical. But the tom below shuttered and shook violently.
"M-m-my l-l-lord, Scourge, s-s-sir," the tom mewed helplessly, then moved his mouth as if to speak, but no voice came out.
Scourge moved his gaze to above the cat's head. It was lucky that he had a good day. Scourge was merciful.
"Yes. I have noticed that my fresh kill has gone thin. I myself is tired of drinking that dirty water on a twoleg's monster's feet. I will not lick their paws!" Scourge got up and bared his teeth. They will bow to ME."
The tom nodded his head, ears moving flappily.
Scourge looked down at his tom again. 'Very well. I will do something about this. Now get out of my sight."
"Scourge, sir, just to let you know, the water-"
"Didn't you hear me?" Scourge said icily.
"Yes, my lord, but..." his eyes went wide.
Scourge sighed. "Fine, go on, I'm merciful today."
The tom gulped. "The water comes from a river from a forest. If we, I mean, you, had control of it, you would be able to access the water in however many ways you'd like. Sir" he added hastily at Scourge's narrowed eyes.
But his eyes were narrowed in though of all the possibilities of having control of the river.
When Scourge sat up straight to think clearly, the tom thought that he was about to kill him
"Please! Please Scourge! I have two kits and a mate, dying, needing care-" he pleaded, yelling his lungs off.
Scourge was very annoyed.
"I do not care for your stupid life, unless I want to take it, mere idiot! Get out of my sight, before I make you!" he snarled.
Understanding that he meant it, the tom ran for his life.
And Scourge sat back down, letting his neck fur lay flat, thinking...