Life in the junkyard

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

    Streak and his gang continued searching for a newplace to stay. "If we are going to have a clan", said Streak, We will need some kits." "Are you suggesting...." Jingle started to say, but Streak interupted. "Well, since you are the only she-cat, I suggest that you find a mate immediatly" Streak instructed. "Now which one of you mousbrains would like to be her mate?" "Well obviously not me!" blurted out Night, "I'm her brother!" and he padded out of line. "Gus?" Streak tried. "Ew", he replied in a disgusted tone. "I guess not..." Streak said quietly. "Now who do we have left?" Streak said aloud. "Ah Mittens....if I'm not mistaken aren't you and Jingle already little sweethearts for each other?" "Um well, er...I um...er..." Mittens said embarassly. "Perfect!" Streak announced. "No, not "perfect"." said Jingle in an annoyed tone. "I have not gotton any say in the conversation!" "Why don't we just steal the kits?" she said. "Perfect..." Streak said..."Now that is perfect....".......

    The post was edited 1 time, last by rc83 ().

    Sparrow walked towards a small opening in a heap and wriggled in.
    The soft mewls of kits called her to the den.
    "Oh it's all right..." she whispered.
    "Here... this is all...." she dropped a rabbit and let the kits dig into the rabbit with ravenous gulps.
    "Crystal share with Swift, now Raven don't push Strike..."
    she turned to see one kit alone.
    "Moon, you have to eat..." she whispered.
    The kit looked up it's icy blue eyes were filled with loneliness.
    The kit padded over and started eating slowly.
    She looked at her kits.
    "You are the last I have...." she whispered.
    "No one can take you..."

    Sparrow poked her head out, making sure no one was around.
    She slipped into the shadows listening for rats, or something like prey.
    I need to feed the kits...
    she thought,but other cats walked the junkyard.

    Sparrow darted between heaps searching for some food.
    Where is there some food?
    She looked into a twoleg monster, seeing a cat.
    Oh snap!
    she ducked her head down, hoping the cat had not seen her.

    Sparrow whipped around looking at the cat.
    She hesitated and darted away, running for her life.

    Streak whipped his head around seeing the running cat. It was a she-cat. I wonder if she has any kits... he thought.

    She ran as fast as she could, her paws skimming the ground leaving only a minor stir in the dust.
    Her eyes wide with fear.She darted towards her heap, going in and dragging hunks of trash over the entrance.
    If they come here....
    "Momma, what's wrong?" a kits voice squeaked.
    "Hush little one," she purred, bringing them towards her in the back of the den.
    "Now, you have to be real quiet..." she whispered.
    "W-"
    "Hush" she said quickly, listening for any following cats footsteps.

    'Night, Mittens...follow her. If she has kits...take them...' Streak said. Then they left.

    When she heard the foot steps, she cringed, pushing them into a dark crevice, covering it quickly.
    "don't worry, the smell from the trash will hide us and they can't here or see us...." she reassured the kits.

    Moth sat on the top of a smooth big dusty rock. She sniffed the air and picked up cat scents, though she could tell they were a distance from here, so the cats weren't close. Moth shut her eyes in relief and sighed. Her kit, who was old enough to help her hunt, wanted to join the group of rogues that hunted in this junkyard. Moth glanced over to were her kit was stalking a dirty feather, probably from a old crow who had come around here.

    Moth could smell other cats, and quickly motioned Flowers, her daughter, to hide under a broken monster. Moth knew well, from her time out of the junkyard, that the shadows would hide her daughter well, since she was a dark brown tabby. Flowers blinked over at her with her wide amber eyes and raced to under the monster. Moth leaped for above the monster's mouth, and soon landed on top of it. Moth arched her back, and stood bristling, at the place the cat scent was coming from.

    Moth curiously pricked her ears, letting her white tabby fur lie flat on her back and jumped down from the hole, and stuck her head in the heap, giving it a curious sniff.