Swift Clan : The Grey Army

Jaguarpelt crouched low. The smell of mouse was overpowering, and she decided she could hunt on a patrol. She tensed and Just as she sprang, she heard low cat’s voices mewing greetings somewhere in the undergrowth behind her. Curiousness overtook her, and so she crept up toward the voices. She mewed in surprise. About ten grey, silky-furred cats were sitting on a flat, grey rock. Unfortunately her mews were not unnoticed. The obvious leader growled. “Get off our territory, or I’ll rip off your fur.” She stared at him and knew he was not joking. “Uh, I’m a medicine cat. Um, from the Wind Clan.” Before she could continue, the leader mewed, softer this time. “So far from home, what are you doing here?” “None of your business! I-” and before she could continue, he cut her off. “Stay here for the day and tell us the truth later.” He motioned to two well-fed strong cats. They escorted her to a den without explaining anything. She was bewildered. “What’s she doing here? Are you a kitty-pet?” curious questions erupted from all sides of the cats around her in the camp. She let her fur lie flat. They looked friendly enough. “Welcome to the Stone Clan, Cat-from-the-wind-clan!” yowls rose from all sides. She suddenly tensed. Something made her uneasy here. She didn’t know what it was, but she would try to find out. She yawned. Curling up in her mossy bed, she slept. Dreams of grey cats filled her night. Suddenly her eyes snapped open. No movement was in the camp. She got up and peered outside. No guards were anywhere near. She padded quietly past the sleeping cats, and broke into a desperate run outside the cat’s fortress.