The sun was slowly rising in the morning sky, warming the small clearing, and making the pebbles on the ground shine. A small chocolate Abyssinian tom was crouched near a puddle of water, drinking the cool, precious liquid. He was relaxed, only aware of the wonderful feeling of water filling his dry mouth and washing the taste of dust and just eaten mouse that remained on his tongue. He was suddenly crossed by realization of the slight irony of the whole thing. He, one of the most water loving cats in his gang, was called Drought. He let out a slightly amused purr. Who knows what May, his mother, thought when she named him. He would gladly go to the Elysium just to ask her.

Suddenly Drought's nostrils flared as a well known, metallic smell filled them. The smell that brought the worst of fears from every living being. Blood. His fur rose in continuous waves, as he crouched, his claws sliding out of its' sheaths and digging in the hard, dusty ground. The stench was becoming even stronger, mixed to other cats' scent. It was coming toward him. Suddenly a large, patched body started coming out of an heather bush. Muscles rippled under the thick, ginger, black and white fur, crossing the cats' massive shoulders. This vision would have put the young cat at ease, as recognition flickered in his yellow eyes, but this time didn't. The she cat's body was tense, her strength was vanishing, and the reason was quite evident. A large, once white feline was dangling from her jaws, a crimson, dense liquid soaking her fur. Other cats came out after them, but Drought barely registered them. A choked whisper came out of his open jaws:" Explosion... what happened to Winter? Who killed her...?"
The she cat placed down the dead fighter, carefully. Her copper eyes blazed in anger and grief.
"Always him, Drought."
The much smaller Abyssinian bristled even more, his yellow eyes narrowed to slits, his haunches raising like he was facing an invisible enemy. Then he suddenly spun away, giving them a look with the corner of his eye.
"Follow me"

A large, regal russet tabby she cat laid in the middle of the camp, her fluffy, thick tail moving a little in the air as she watched little furballs playing with one of the two veterans. Mars purred seeing her old mother playing  with Dash and Spot, the oldest kits of the gang. Wildfire never looked so happy when not playing with those little furballs. The large chief purred more, continuing watching. But the peace wasn't going to last long, and she knew it as soon as she felt a sudden stench of blood, fear and anger flood her sensitive nose. She jumped up just in time for seeing her young Chief helper jump from rock to rock down to the path that brought to their camp, hidden at the bottom of a canyon. Behind him, there was something Mars never wanted to see. The dark russet she cat was quick to come over, lowering to nuzzle the once proud, powerful fighter.
"What happened to her?" she growled softly in anger, as other cats started coming over bristling and letting out mews of distress. Mars couldn't bear that sound of grief, it made her feel like she failed her duty to protect her gang. And the dead member in front of her was already enough for that.
Drought was silent for a moment, then hissed softly:"Him. He has done it"
A burning  fury seemed to fill Mars' heart and soul, and she was barely aware of a few cats shifting away from her, scared by her deep growl which showed all her anger. A hiss left her mouth, full of hatred.
"that's it," she spat out "their deputy  is going to pay. And this will be a warning for all the Clans. "