Tall grass waved small hello's, faint dreamy sunlight glimmering and outlining their silhouettes. They licked Sparkfur's shoulder as she passed them, cold and wet from the home-y freshness of rain. She blinked up, sunlight reflecting in her eyes.

"Ryeheart!" She purred, picking up the pace as she saw his figure at the top of the grassy hill. He turned, his gold eyes glimmering as he realized it was her.

"Hey!" He purred, running his head across her spine as she crossed to sit at his side.

"Everything's so crazy..." She whispered, looking at him.

"I know..." A dreamy, quiet swirl of faint missed dipped across the grassy valley the hill overlooked. "I wish I were there with you."

"If you were here, I would go back to DrizzleClan. I... I miss Berryfoot and Frostheart and everybody else, even the cats I don't know, just only know their faces." The mist was getting thicker, the soft sunlight still shining.

"I'm here now."

"That's not good enough." The mist was getting even thicker, turning to water. It flooded the valley. Sparkfur didn't want to address the issue. She just wanted to stay where she could only smell watermint and what she imagined sunshine to smell like. The water level got higher.

"You don't have to fight anymore, it's okay. I died, and that's okay. You should go back home, where you belong."

"Ryeheart... I belong with you...!" She half-begged, her ears turning back slightly, and her head ducking. The water got higher and higher so quick. The waves started sloshing at their paws.

"Oh Sparkfur...," he laughed gently, brushing his soaking wet tail against hers, "..my Sparkfur." The water was getting higher, and Sparkfur stood up to avoid drowning. Ryeheart didn't move, just looked into her eyes.

"Ryeheart, we have to go!" He blinked those sun colored orbs in response. She took a step back quickly with a screech as a drop of blood rolled down his shoulder from the back of his neck, dripping into the now shoulder high water. Ryeheart still didn't move.

Her eyes were round and fear rolled off her in waves, her ears back and her mouth parted as she held back a cry of fear, "Rye--!" She began to screech his name, but the water filled her lungs, and she closed her eyes as tight as she could, the water level reaching her ear tips.

Sparkfur opened her eyes, breathing heavily. She blinked several times, looking around herself with eyes wide. She was pressed against one of the wood plank boxes another cat was inside for a den, and there were several other sleeping forms around her.

She was alone in a crowded room, afraid and yet still very alone.

Pale moonlight streamed in from the glass windows at the top of the camp. She stood up shakily. She couldn't fall back asleep, she wouldn't. She padded past a sentry who gave her a small nod, and she hurried out the exit, breathing in as much of the fresh air as she could. She liked watersides, they smelled like water-mint, which always reminded her of...him....

But the salty water that lapped up at the stone wall didn't have water-mint growing next to it, just cawing seagulls that always annoyed her. She hated it here, and she wanted to be in DrizzleClan.

Her training in the rogue clan was different than in DrizzleClan: she had a healing cut on her flank from a practice, as well as a permanent nick in her right ear from when Olice had clawed it. She had also realized Waspclaw was right: she wasn't as good a fighter as she thought. Probably barely good enough to be in the cedar den, if that. She had never realized because she was never really fighting, just....

She padded away from the wooden boardwalk that led to the camp. She didn't want to think about the rogues, they clouded her mind. She remembered when she would observe the honey bees and learn from Asterfoot basic herbs, or talk to cats from other clans about what their territories are like. Learning was always something she enjoyed. But forced into a rebellion she didn't really want to fight for? She felt dumber than a newborn kit, but at the same time wiser than the wisest elder.

She was doing something good with her life. She was holding onto the memory of Ryeheart. She padded on a path that skirted along the side of a wide thunder-path. Fake sunlight poured from two-leg tree like things; huge, tall two-leg dens varying in height and size were scattered everywhere. It reeked of several dogs, some scents staler than others.

"Hurry, the guards are supposed to come around this way soon." She heard a whisper. She crouched down and stalked forward to the side of a huge den.

"I just... I don't want to have to say good-bye!" A small cry from a she-cat

"Just come on! Give them the prey and the kit and let's go." There was another sniffle. Spark backed up to the shadows of one of the fake two-leg suns, watching a dark tortoiseshell she-cat flee from the alley followed by a brown tabby tom that Sparkfur recognized as a MarshClan cat.

She watched them disappear before ducking into the alley between two tall stone structures. An artificial sun buzzed annoyingly. She heard a can clatter and among the terrible and heavy scents of two-legs, she found the mouth-water scent of a freshly caught bird. She poked her head over the side of a huge fowl smelling two-leg box object that obstructed her view.

A ginger tabby she-cat diving into a robin. A small dark chocolate, almost black lump of fur. A kit.

Spark would give anything to bring the bird back to DrizzleClan. With Leaf-bare nearing, she was sure cats from kit-age to bramble warrior status were dropping dead. And here was an over-fed kittypet scarfing on a robin.

"What are you doing?" Spark said abruptly, unable to contain her curiosity. Why was a kit laying discarded and mewling while the two-leg pet ate fresh-kill.

"Eating what I'm owed! Why d'you ask?" She paused, her yellow eyes lighting up. "Ah! Are you one of them rouges?" Spark shook her head at first, attempting to lie. She failed, and nodded. "Ai then! Keep away from me! It's my robin, I get it for keeping that scrap of fur for a moon!" She referenced the kit that was desperately crawling blindly toward any source of warmth.

"What happens to it after you've watched it for a moon?!" Spark growled, drawing the kit toward herself. It was freezing, it's eyes were shut tight and it's ears were folded. Probably only a week or less old.

"Well I'm supposed to watch it until i's a big tom, but it can probably win over the heart of a people once it's a moon. The People juss' love lit'l kittens!" She began to bite into the robin again, making a mess of it and getting feathers all over her fur.

"So why do you need to eat our prey if your fattening up on two-leg stock?" The Gluttonist cat paused in the feeding frenzy.

"I'm attempting to try every kind of prey I can! I offer cats to take in their kits untill they're all grown up in exchange for a piece of prey of my choice. So far I've had rabbit, squirrel, thrust, a snow hare? I thought that one was odd, but just wait till I tell you about the kit I took in for it!"

"That's enough!" Spark hissed. The kit quivered and mewled. "You leave them to die!"

"From what I hear, it's worse being in the little rouge cluster then safe in a warm home!" Spark opened her mouth. While that was true, what was even safer than than the two-leg nests? A warrior clan. A safe place to learn and grow up strong. She looked as the shivering mound of fur. She just had to get it to Berryfoot. He'd take care of it from there.

"Could I have it?" She asked quietly.

"Eh?!" The kittypet stopped it's smacking to look up at the golden tabby.

"Can I have., it..? Him? Her?"

"It's a him. And go ahead, take it. I don't care, just as long as I get this robin..." She began to take another bite when Spark cuffed her in the ear, giving the long-legged warrior enough to take a big bite of the robin. She cuffed the defenseless ginger tabby again as she swallowed, grabbing the kit by the scruff and taking off at full pelt, the kittypet screeching and hollering about stealing the food.

Spark snickered, trying to keep the kit from smacking against her chest-fur, when she skidded to a halt. Two massive rouge cats stood in front of her: one brownish-gray tabby tom next to second black tom.

"What have we here?" Growled the black Tom. Spark gently placed the kit on the pavement, standing up straight.

"Spark, recruit, sir." She said, her eyes round. Now would be a terrible time to get in a fight.

"Go on then, what is this... Kit?"

"I-I found it, sir!" She tried to wing it. A good lie was better than the truth. If the tortoishelle run-away mother was found out, terrible things would happen to her. Death. "I figured w-we could increase the ranks.. Sir." She glanced at his expression, hoping for something of a confirmation.

"Okay. Are you acting as mother?" Spark picked the scrappy kit back up.

"Yes." She lied.

"Alright, follow us to the Stone Camp. You get to join the queen's den."

--

AN:

I admit I didn't proofread this at all.

Also, I've realized how terrible a character Sparkfur is OMG she's such a Mary-sue lmao and because of that I kinda don't like this story anymore?

I have a second book planned out that has nothing to do with Sparkfur, but it's following the events of this book so I need this one done before I can start that one. Which will be great and have relatable, solid characters. So if you bare with me through this muddy book, you'll get a (hopefully) amazing second book.