Head held high, the tom burst through the bushes that barred camp and shoved past a group of mourning cats. The Clan was mourning for the leader, who had died from a terrible case of redcough while the medicine cat was out gathering herbs. The tom held his head high, and though he was probably the most mischevious- pllayfully mischevious, not evil (or is he?)- and yowled, "Our leader is dead! There has been no chosen deputy, but I will step up as a leader!" He raised his tail for silence as cats screeched in protest, and they quieted down quickly only to be interrupted by one or more "You're too young!" or "You have no apprentice, though!". The bulky tom just laughed, and padded off into the leader's den though two or three cats leaped to the enterance, trying to bar his path. Then, the cats yowled as the new leader kicked them off the highrock with his powerful hind legs, soon disappearing into the den. I'm the one, I'm the one, the tom said to himself repeatedly. "Ebony!! Ebony!!" A shrill yowl came from outside the leader's den, and a bloody cat burst in, ears torn, pelt ruffled. It had been a moon since Ebony had become leader, and cats seemed to have gotten used to it. "There's an attack in camp!!!" The cat yowled, tears streaming down her face. "They're taking the kits!" Although her face was desperate, Ebony snorted and raised his head. "Protect the kits, take them out of camp if you need. Not my problem." The she-cat widened her eyes and swept a claw across Ebony's cheek, dismay filling her eyes as she screeched, "DO SOMETHING, YOU LAZY SLUG!" "Alright, alright fine. Lemme just wash myself" The tom-cat sat up stiffly, lapping at his tail for what seemed like moons, the she-cat watching in disgust and horror. "The clan's dying out there, and you're just gonna WASH? Whoever chose you as a leader!" She snorted and left the den into the crowd of yowling cats. MAJOR WIP

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