Hello my friends and followers! I am starting a new book series called "On the Other Side" You can read chapter 1 below! Chapter 2: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/522126680 Fan art is very much appreciated, and it helps the popularity of the story grow!!!
Flintstem felt the cold snow sink into his fur as he ran through the thick trees. Every once in a while he would stop and sniff the air for the scent of prey. A branch cracked and the tom raised his head slowly sniffing the ice cold air. There, right between the tangled roots of the tree sat a squirrel chewing on an acorn that was nestled between its paws. Flintstem’s stomach growled as he pictured himself sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of the squirrel. He shook the thought away and tried to think of the kits that would enjoy this meal instead despite his hunger. Prey was scarce in Riverclan, and they needed as much food as they could catch. Flintstem narrowed his amber eyes, focused on the squirrel. It’s tail twitched as the small creature suddenly looked up, causing Flintstem to freeze. He couldn’t lose such a valuable piece of prey like this. He crept forward feeling the snow below him seep through his paws, chilling him to the bone. The squirrel looked back down at the nut in its paws, unaware of the danger it was in. Perfect. Suddenly a shattering yowl split the clearing and the squirrel reared up on its hind legs for a moment then scampered up the tree. “Frog dung!” He spat with a lash of his dark gray tail. He swore if it was that good for nothing apprentice Vinepaw that scared away his prey- the yowl echoed through the trees again. With a jolt of shock he realized that it sounded like a kit. Flintstem turned away from the tree which he had lost his prey from, and headed towards the sound. He began to worry, could one of the Riverclan kits have wondered into the forest by accident? It was to cold for someone that young to be out alone. Flattening his ears from the snow, he continued on trying to spot what caused the sound. He broke into a run as he heard the cry again, this time more urgent. Turning his head he saw something half buried in the snow. It was a kit with pale gray fur, so pale that he had to take a second look to make sure he wasn’t just seeing the snow. It let out a pitiful little cry as it looked up at him shivering. The kit wasn’t from Riverclan, in fact they didn’t smell like they were from any clan at all. She was so young, why wasn’t the mother around? A kit this young couldn’t survive out here alone, so he reached down grabbing her scruff with his teeth carefully so he wouldn’t hurt her. As he stared down at the small kit he felt a sudden rush of protectiveness. Something told him that everything was about to change.