[This lovely page was done by @our-clangen as part of a page swap! Snowy did absolutely amazing on this, and y’all should go check out Ourclan, it’s an awesome story about kitties with powers]
Scraps and Servalfang run into a SunClan patrol while hunting, safe to say, the resulting exchange is…….. heated
In the middle of the night, Thistlewhistle entered the factory with the intent to kidnap Bumblekit and Spiderkit……
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scraps was awake, keeping a careful watch from a hidden perch in the roof rafters, having chosen to stay awake after the heated altercation at the SunClan border.
Servalfang was curled around Bumblekit and Spiderkit, having decided to be the one to sleep with them tonight, the now moon and a half old kits had been pretty rowdy today, but were calm now.
Scrap’s ears twitched when she heard movement, and she crouched, eyeing the ground beneath her, hackles raising when she spotted Thistlewhistle slinking into the room.
The tom’s mostly white pelt stood out in the dim factory, and he clearly was a reckless cat, either that or uneducated, having come out into the Outlands in the middle of the night.
Scraps slowly crept along the rafter, keeping pace with the large fluffy Tom as he slowly approached Servalfang, eyes fixed on the two sleeping kits.
Not today kitstealer.
Scraps lunged down and slammed into the larger cat, taking advantage of skills she learned while fighting beasts in order to overpower him.
Thistlewhistle grunted as he was slammed against the ground, before he cried out when Scraps slowly sank her teeth into his throat.
She could feel him shoving at her, choking as he struggled to pry her loose, eyes rolling wildly as blood bubbled up from his mouth.
Scraps heard movement off to the side, but she didn’t react, just kept going, until her teeth met.
Then she yanked up, flesh straining, before tearing.
Thistlewhistle convulsed as his windpipe was ripped from his body, along with a good chunk of flesh.
Scraps stared down as him as the light left his eyes, blood pooling from the ragged gouge in his neck, before she spat the chunk of flesh she’d torn out off to the side.
She then lifted her head and looked to the side, meeting Servalfang’s eyes, watching as he stared at her, standing over the body of his former clan mate, blood staining her fur.
“…….rule number two about the Outlands, touching another cat or clowders kits without permission is a crime that it is reasonable to punish with death” Scraps murmured.
Servalfang stood frozen for a couple minutes, ears flattened as he stared down at the dead cat, eyes flickering, before his expression hardened.
"...Rule number three," he rasped out quietly, "Don’t leave the body for the crows." Without another word, he grabbed one of Thistlewhisker's hind legs and started dragging him toward the factory's exit. There was no hesitation in his movements—just grim resolution.
Scraps grabbed the body’s scruff, and helped Servalfang haul it, understanding entering her eye when they approached the border, before Servalfang let go, letting the body drop down at the edge of the forest.
Scraps turned to leave, but froze when she saw the grey she-cat from before, Thistlewhistle’s mate if she remembered correctly.
……
Scraps stared her down, muzzle still dripping with Thistlewhistle’s blood, Servalfang standing calmly at her side.
The she-cat’s eyes were filled with fury and grief as she crouched down beside Thistlewhistle’s body, pressing one paw against the wound as if she could somehow fix it.
“Touch my kits again, an’ the next cat’ll show up in pieces” Scraps snarled, staring the other cat down, until she gave a jerky nod.
The she-cat furiously grabbed her mates scruff and hauled him off, disappearing into the trees within a couple minutes.
Scraps watched for a couple minutes, before she nodded to Servalfang, and they both set off back towards the factory.
Sunclan has been left a Message
Scraps’ wound has become infected
Having heard rumors of a healer rouge, Servalfang sets out to find them, the old she-cat healer begrudgingly agrees to help
After treating Scraps and leaving instructions for wound care, Fawntail is stopped by Bumblekit, who refuses to let her leave, grumpily she agrees to stay the night
~~~~~~~~~
Bumblekit had an intense seizure in the middle of the night. She’s lucky that Fawntail was there.
Scraps is out hunting when she hears the mewls of kits, begrudgingly she decides to investigate.
Reminded of her own past, Scraps decides to take the kits in.
She names them Bumble and Spider
While out hunting, Scraps runs into a Sunclan patrol, she mentions the kits and they admit to losing them, but want them back, Scraps refuses, the kits won't be safe there
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What are you doing on our territory”
Scraps bristled at the voice, and turned around, holding the rabbit she’d caught firmly in her jaws as she stared at the two cats, before responding “your territory? Last aye checked this was no cats land”
“SunClan expanded our borders a couple days ago, I suppose the border markings hadn’t yet been laid when you last were here” the same cat was before said, his long white pelt gleaming in the evening light.
“…..so this was yar territory-. Two weeks ago aye found two kits close ta here, a dark golden tabby an’ a piebald, know anythin’ bout it?” Scraps asked, pricking her ears as she spoke.
“That- that sounds like Foxfern’s last litter, but both kits were stillborn-“ the second cat, a grey tabby, huffed, her ears flattening as she spoke.
“….., your suggesting some cat from SunClan lied and abandoned the kits here” the tom said slowly, his tail giving a dangerous twitch.
“Well, they were noisy squeakers because of hunger and cold when I found ‘em, wouldn’t have lasted long if aye didn’t take pity on the poor scraps- so whoever wanted ‘em dead and gone, well, aye think aye pissed ‘em off mighty fine then-“ Scraps said, her whiskers twitching a little as she spoke.
“Well, thank you for saving them and for keeping them safe so far. We will come with you to collect them and take them back now” the tom replied.
Scraps hissed loudly, her fur bristling, “No way!”
“Listen... if those kits really are SunClan's stolen litter—and it sure sounds like they are—you can’t raise them alone. A rogue with no training? No proper hunting knowledge? No medicine to treat injuries or sickness? Come back with us. The kits belong with their real kin." The gray tabby she-cat said calmly, clearly trying for a peaceful approach.
“Their ‘real’ kin abandoned ‘em to die!-. I ain’t letting ‘em set paw in the territory of you lot unless it’s over my dead body!” Scraps snapped, making real quotes when she said “real”, before she dropped her paw back down, her ears pinning back as she stared down the two cats.
“You little!-“ the tom snarled, but the she-cat blocked him with her risk, whispering “stand down Thistlewhistle” softly, before looking back at Scraps.
“Try a take them from me, an I I’ll tear yar windpipe out for tha trouble-“ Scraps warned, her tail lashing as she spoke.
The gray she-cat immediately stiffened, her fur puffing up. Thistlewhisker lashed his tail but stayed still, clearly assessing the situation carefully, "...We will report this to our leader,” he finally grunted. “This isn't over."
He exchanged another glance with the she-cat before taking a slow step back "Mark my words, rogue. Those kits will be returned to their Clan—whether you like it or not."
With that, he turned and stalked off into the underbrush. The gray tabby hesitated a moment longer before following.
Scraps’s watched them go, before she picked up her rabbit again, and turned to leave.
…..
“Heard all that, did ya?” She suddenly asked, sensing the eyes on her.
Having heard the commotion, a conflicted Breezepaw chooses to leave SunClan despite his warrior ceremony being tomorrow, he changes his name to Servalfang
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dark golden tabby startled, his fur bushing out a little, before reluctantly relaxing again, he seemed unnerved, agitated, and she had a feeling she knew why.
“I heard everything” he whispered, ears pinning back, before he added “Foxfern’s my mother, those kits are my siblings-. Our mother never would’ve abandoned them willingly”
“……sorry to hear that kit. What’s your name?-“ Scraps asked, her tone softening as she spoke, she tilted her head, noticing how the dark gold tabby had a similar pelt pattern to Bumble, she could definitely see the resemblance
The young tom straightened slightly, his ears perking up at the question. "I’m Breezepaw—well, almost Breezepelt now," he corrected quickly. "My warrior ceremony was supposed to be tomorrow... but I think I might miss it." His voice grew quiet, a touch bitter. "...Guess I can't exactly go back after this, huh?"
“Why? Any a crime to talk, I doubt your clanmates know your talkin’ ta me-“ Scraps said, titling her head a little in confusion as she studied Breezepaw.
Breezepaw huffed, his tail lashing back and forth "That's not—that's not the point!" he snapped, irritation flaring as he met her gaze. "If I go back with this information, there's only two possible endings. One, I'm branded as a traitor for suggesting SunClan abandoned two kits—which is completely ridiculous, by the way, because that's unnatural.”
He paused, a frustrated huff leaving him. "Or... or they'll think I'm the one who abandoned my siblings..."
“…..so what do ya plan ta do then kit?” Scraps asked, straightening up a little as she spoke.
Breezepaw hesitated for only a heartbeat before his ears flattened, resolve flickering in his eyes.
"I'm coming with you."
“Alright then, I can’t stop ya- aye can only teach ya ‘bout the Outlands- rule number one, never ignore a gut feelin’, it’ll get ya killed-“ Scraps said, trotting off towards the factory as she spoke.
Breezepaw hesitated for only a moment before trotting after Scraps, his paws kicking up little tufts of dust as he kept pace. He glanced over his shoulder once—just once—toward SunClan's territory before turning back with a firm nod
"Right. Gut feelings... got it." He squared his shoulders. "Now, uh... you do have enough rabbit in there to share, right?" Breezepaw asked, tilting his head a little.
“Eh, I can catch another- now, Breezepelt’s a pretty stupid and basic name let’s be honest- I can’t fully judge because my names Scraps-, but Breeze ain’t actually the name I think of when I see a dark golden tabby, and pelts very basic- so, let’s say…… how bout Serval for that first part? And ya can pick your fancy other part of it, I don’t care, I ain’t a fancy prick like your old clowder anyways-“ Scraps said, looking to the side at Breezepaw.
Breezepelt blinked, momentarily stunned—then his whiskers twitched "Serval...?" He tilted his head, considering. “Not bad. Sounds... I dunno. Faster." A pause, then he smirked slightly. "You know what? Servalfang That sound 'fancy' enough for you?”
“Alright then Servalfang- and before ya ask, Scraps is a name a friend o’ mine accidentally picked out, she nicknamed me without realizing I didn’t exactly have a time at tha time, an’ it stuck-“ Scraps explained, slipping inside the factory via a hole in the wall as she spoke
“Oh” Servalfang said quietly, quickly following her through the factory, even when she jumped up onto the second floor via a hole in the roof.
Scraps walked across the room, before shoving aside a tarp on the wall to expose a hidden hole in the wall, where several blankets and pillows formed a nest, with two tiny shapes inside, one a dark golden tabby, the other a piebald kit with dark brown peeking through where his patches were.
Scraps dropped the rabbit by the nest, and then settled down into the nest, curling herself around the tiny kits, giving each a lick to the head, before she pulled the rabbit close and started to dig in.
She paused when she felt Servalfang scoot himself into the nest and gently pull Bumble and Spider close, a smile on his face as happy tears gathered.
Scraps returned her attention back to the rabbit, while she would’ve kicked the young tom out of her nest on any other occasion, he’d thought his little siblings were dead for two weeks, and had just found out they were alive.
Scraps could deal with the crowded nest for now.
Outside, the sun set slowly, the fields around the factory growing colder and more menacing.
This was part of the Outlands after all, not a StarClan protected clan camp.
While no spirits watched over the area, there was no protection, not even the weak protection of one determined soul.
There was a reason all Outlanders retreated to their dens at sundown, and clan cats didn’t.
