Disclaimer: I only own the characters and plot. The Idea of warriors belongs to Erin Hunter.
"Open your eyes." The command was harsh and rough to my newly opened ears, and I twisted in the soft moss of the nest, curling into an agitated ball.
"Open them!" the command came again, and my eyes flew open to see a huge grey cat with ear-tufts standing over me.
"Finally!" the cat seemed exasperated, and a furious expression burned in his eyes.
"Your brother opened his eyes yesterday. I always knew he would be a natural-born warrior, unlike some kits I know." The grey cat shot me a scorning look, and I crouched down in the nest, close to tears.
"Mama?" I whispered, my voice quavering. The cream coloured cat beside me gave an irritated snort, and looked up, her green eyes portraying the same expression as the grey cat.
"What?" she grunted, clearly annoyed about something.
"The grey cat is being mean." I complained, and a new degree of anger spread to mama's eyes.
"Don't you DARE say that about your father!" she snapped, swinging a hefty paw around so it just caught the top of my head. It didn't really hurt, but the shock of the blow made me fall backwards into what appeared to be a tiny version of the grey cat, who was actually my father.
"MAMA! PAPA!" cried the grey cat suddenly, springing to his feet, crystalline blue eyes focusing on me.
"What, my little warrior?" asked father, looking up from his conversation with mama.
"Whitekit scratched me!" he wailed in what was obviously mock pain. I looked at my parents in horror as they rounded on me, fury blazing in their eyes. I shrank back in submission, my ears flattening against my head. Mama spoke first.
"How dare you be so mean to stormkit! He did nothing wrong, and you just attack him out of the blue!? Why don't you start thinking like a warrior instead of rouge? Or maybe you'd prefer being rouge? I'm sure your father could arrange it; he is the clan leader after all. I suppose you would be less of a burden that way, you would never have done anything good for the clan!" I was so frightened I barley heard what was being said. The only thing I could feel was the tears running down my face, soaking my fur. All the time that Mama was yelling, stormkit was sitting smirking at me, a smug look on his face. That look made me feel such an extreme hatred towards my brother that it scared me. I cowered into the corner of the nursery, talking comforting words to myself, but that only left me wondering.
What have I done? I thought, new tears forming at the corner of my eyes. What have I done to make them hate me so much?
"Stop hiding, weakling!" the taunting voice of stormkit drifted unwelcomingly into my ears.
"A true warrior doesn't hide!" he laughed, prodding me in the neck with his tail.
"But you aren't a true-born warrior, so I suppose it doesn't really matter!" this sent the mini-father into a fit of laughter, and I looked up, trying to hide the fact that I had been crying.
"Well if I'm not a true-born warrior, then I'd hate to think what you are." Stormkit seemed confused for a second, not understanding what I had said, but then realisation dawned on him, and his fur pricked up along his spine in anger.
"Just you wait till I'm leader! You'll be sent into exile before you can say mouse!" With that, stormkit turned around, chest puffed out and head high, and sauntered off. The word Exile rang in my ears.
Please, starclan, never let stormkit be leader…
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! The idea for this story actually came to me in a dream (yes, You heard me right), I had a dream that I was the character and all this actually happened!) The earlier chapters in this were written a while ago, so I think that they will be quite bad, but just bear with me! Storm