Challenge Name: My Words are Stuck in my Head
Challenge Prompt: Write about a mute cat looking to prove themselves in one of the clans.
Other (minimum word count, other info, etc.):
Go wild with this one again!
My Words Are Stuck In My Head
Silence was the only thing she ever knew.
Condor padded into the cavern, a squirrel in her jaws. She dropped the piece of prey on the ground, waving her tail in greeting to her littermates and parents that were in the den.
“Condor! You’re back!” Her mother, Sequoia, mewed, nuzzling her daughter happily.
“OOOOOO FOOOOOD!” Cacao rushed toward the squirrel, his tongue slightly hanging out like a dog’s.
“Hey! Save some for me!” Larkspur growled at her brother, running over to the squirrel as well.
Sequoia sighed as their father, Racoon, came into view from the end of the den, examining the squirrel with a stone-cold expression. “This is all you got? Just one measly squirrel?” He growled, his tone stern.
Condor gulped and nodded. Ever since she was born, she only knew one emotion from her father: disappointment. Disappointment about her hunting skills, disappointment about her inability to speak, disappointment about herself as a whole. Her fur bristled; was this how fathers were supposed to act?
Racoon grumbled. “This won’t feed all of us,” he mewed, before glaring at Condor. “Until you get more prey, you’re not aloud to eat.”
Condor sighed and nodded, padding out of the cavern with her head lowered. That was usual punishment for her, to not get to eat unless she got more prey. She hated it and she was usually the only one that had to do it. Larkspur and Cacao didn’t have to hunt constantly, so why should she?
She wished she could prove herself, but she didn’t know how.
Luckily, something was coming so that she could . . . just not to the right cat.
Rushwater’s head shot up at the yowl, watching one of his clanmates race into camp and up to him.
“There’s a fox . . . near the camp . . . we have to stop it before it gets to the kits . . .”
Rushwater nodded. “Ashenstar’s still recovering from injuries from the battle with CoastClan,” the SpruceClan deputy mewed. “I’ll come. Bring some more cats. We need to stop it.”
The cat nodded and started to get some warriors and apprentices. Rushwater shot out of camp with three other cats following, his black paws racing to attack the fox that could terrorize the Clan.
The fox wasn’t far away. Its ginger fur shimmered in the sunlight, its teeth glinting fiercely. Rushwater lunged at the fox as the other SpruceClan cats flanked it from all sides. The fox snapped its jaws at Rushwater as Duskflower sliced its claws into its fur, making it hiss in pain. It shook Duskflower off and bit Rushwater’s leg, making him yowl in pain.
“Get your filthy jaws off our deputy!” Melonpelt growled at the fox, slicing their claws at the fox’s muzzle. The fox released Rushwater and bit Melonpelt in the neck, causing the gender neutral’s green eyes to go blank as they fell limp.
“Melonpelt,” Rushwater croaked sadly. The fox was bloodied and battered, but it wasn’t running yet. It lunged at the final cat, Sageleaf, who was cowering in fear, but before it reached her, a young, mottled gray she-cat dropped onto the fox from a tree and bit the back of its neck. The fox screeched in pain as the cat kept holding on, before the fox shook the cat off and fled from the cats.
Rushwater blinked at the gray she-cat. She seemed about apprentice age, with somewhat short fur and bright green eyes. Rushwater didn’t recognize her from SpruceClan, and she had a strange scent, like one of a rogue or a loner. Rushwater didn’t know how a patrol didn’t catch her this far into SpruceClan territory, but that didn’t matter right now.
“Thank you for saving us,” the SpruceClan deputy breathed. “Who are you? Are you from the Clans?”
The gray she-cat was silent, giving Rushwater a confused look, before shaking her head.
“What’s your name?”
She opened her mouth to attempt to speak, but closed it shut, glancing away. She shook her head once more.
“I don’t think she can speak . . .” Duskflower murmured.
“Oh,” Rushwater blinked. He had never met a cat who couldn’t speak before.
The bushes rustled as a large gray and black tom stalked out of them. “What have I told you about not staying focused on hunting?!” He hissed. “You never listen!”
The gray she-cat, apparently named Condor, frowned and bristled her fur.
“But she saved us,” Sageleaf pointed out to the large tom.
“That wasn’t her first priority, though!” He growled. “Her first priority is to get prey to feed my family! She’s only good at hunting!”
Condor let out a silent hiss, but Rushwater stood up on three legs and approached the tom. “Yet she saved innocent cats,” he told him. “Without speaking. Also, you shouldn’t be on our territory. This is SpruceClan territory, and no rogue can enter.”
The tom rolled his eyes. “Fine. Come on, Condor.” The tom began to pad away, but Condor stayed where she was. The tom glared at her. “What? Come on!”
Conder let out another silent hiss and shook her head.
“Oh, fine! Leave us! I don’t care!” The tom growled, before padding back into the bushes again.
Rushwater glanced at Condor. “Would you like to stay at our camp for the night?” He asked. “It’s the least we can do to thank you.”
Condor blinked and nodded, and the four cats padded back to camp, with a dead warrior and a possible new apprentice.
(oof kind of rushed but i tried with this one)
(mods, please let this through!)