JaxCats
New Member
CliffClan, BeachClan, and TideClan have lived in close proximity for moons, as do other clans. They all go by the same rules, and one is followed with the most diligence: Toms are superior. She-cats have little to no say about what happens within clan matters and affairs. One clan in particular follows these rules with the utmost importance. They make sure there is no break, and enforce it with power. Kitestar sees this through fervently, and he makes sure his clan does the same. Nobody has spoken up for generations, or, at least, has went the extra mile to break this endless traditional chain.
Until now, that is.
The chill of leaf-bare in the air caused prey to take refuge within their own warm burrows or nests. It was she-cats' duty to hunt, while toms fought. Featherberry aspired to sink her claws into other cats' flesh, not just the one of prey. Of course, she didn't mind the fact of helping her clan through hunting, it was just she wanted more of a voice. She wanted to protect her clan through tooth and claw, not just dainty defense swipes while she waited for a tom to swoop in and save her. It was far fetched thinking on her part-- Well, more specifically, on any she-cats' part. Thoughts like that said aloud would land her in trouble, maybe even hurt. Violent tendencies within the clan were not far and few, she knew that much.
The thoughts angered her. She subconsciously let out a growl, eyes flickering as the gull she was stalking looked over, letting out a rapacious cry, fluttering up into the air. "No!" She gasped, darting forward and giving a tremendous leap into the air. She hooked her claws into what she thought was bone and muscle, only for her to hook off a couple of feathers, and land back on the ground. She watched her best catch of the day soar off into the pale sky, shoulders drooping. "Fox-dung!" She snarled, swiping angrily at a scraggly bush near by. Just her luck; Maybe if toms took a turn to hunt, she wouldn't be so tired of this. Maybe if she was respected, maybe if she-cats could speak freely, she wouldn't have had these thoughts. She wouldn't have alerted her prey, and she would be well on her way back to camp at this moment.
Just maybe. Grumbling to herself, Featherberry searched for other prey. Maybe someone would find her and lend her a paw. She wasn't one to usually whittle around and wait to receive help, but she had been out hunting ever since dawn had awoken. It was nearly sunhigh now. It was ridiculous! Featherberry was nearly at her end, now, and thinking about it made her even more furious. With an angry snarl, she swiped at a near by bush, scraggly and dead(like most of the bushes in their territory). I need to do something... I don't know how much longer the clans can take this anymore.
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