Cats Can't Cry

[Gosh]

"It makes a difference because if the old leader trapped us here and the deputy was so in love she wouldn't help us, how do we know that the leader and deputy won't do bad things to us here?" Bronzefoot growled. "But me, I don't think those stories are true. I think the stories of Clanhood are just fanciful stories elders thought up; I believe that us cats were always in this enclosure. And I think we always will be."

[Ten]

"There is nothing bad that a leader could do," Shortwhisker hissed. If Bronzefoot didn't believe the old stories, it was clear that he had mental issues. The black and white tom fluffed his fur, tail thrashing.

[duckyaisha]

"Thank you," said Patchfur, nodding. "I am one of the cats you were talking about- the idea of some-some dictator controlling every aspect of our lives doesn't appeal to me, however you spin it. I wish for my ideas to become reality, and that we really could have a clan where everyone shares power." Then he turned to look at the other tom, the small one. "Why would fights break out? It doesn't make sense to just randomly attack someone. There'd be no fights over territory- Clan cats share that. No fights over prey- they all share prey. Besides, two cats having power isn't really that different from one cat having power. They both just order you around and make you do whatever they want you to."

[Thistle]

Branchkit padded on the hard sand quietly, approaching the Boneyard. It was spooky here; some corpses of dead cats looked haunted and the small mounds of bones made her shudder.
But there was something that tugged her paws and pulled her toward her parent's bodies.

They were both still and to her, looked more peaceful than the other deceased felines. Lowering her head, she nosed her father's fur, closing her pale eyes for a moment to breathe in his stale scent. She didn't know him that well since he died when she was only three moons old.
Suddenly voices reached her ears.

Good thing they're not dead cats, thought the tabby, a grin flickering on her lips. Or I would've jumped out of my fur. Feeling amused by her own joke, she crept forward as quietly as she could, cocking her head to the side to listen better.
They were obviously talking about a Clan; she heard the word mentioned many times in their conversation.

[Gosh]

"But that is untrue," Bronzefoot meowed. "A leader could do many bad things if they so pleased." He sighed and wondered whether he should go-the black and white tom looked agitated. And agitated cats were dangerous.

[Ten]

At Bronzefoot's brazen disagreement, Shortwhisker's blood boiled. He growled and swung a paw at the other tom's face. His claws were sheathed, but the movement was quick.

[Thistle]

Wary eyes flashing, the young she-cat pressed herself to the hard earth. If a fight were to break out, she didn't want to get involved. The black-and-white feline seemed angry, and he had swiped at another cat. But maybe she should step in, to stop fur from flying.

"What are you all talkin' about?"
She did, of course, knew what they were speaking about, but showing plain innocence was better then being regarded as a nosy, eavesdropping trespasser.

"And I wouldn't want to fight here if I were you," she added a bit meaningfully to Shortwhisker. "There's already enough blood around here, know what I mean?"
She sat down to wash her tail, but kept an eye on the other cats. They wouldn't catch her off guard, that was for sure.

[duckyaisha]

"Stop it!" Patchfur yowled. He turned to face the black-and-white tom, trying to contain his irritation. "I honestly don't care what you say about leaders, I'm never going to want one, not in a million moons. And besides, if we both want there to be a clan, we need a lot of cats on our side. Which would mean all the other Pro-clan cats that don't want leaders would have to be on our side too." Then he looked to the she-cat. "Who are you?" Patchfur asked, trying to be friendly. He didn't have any reason to dislike her, so he decided to make her his friend.

[Gosh]

"My name is Spiderpaw," she meowed a little nervously. The last time a fight had broken out, she had ran away. 'Is it right to do this again?' she thought to herself.

"The little one is right," Bronzefoot meowed, nodding at Branchkit. "We shouldn't fight here." He cast his gaze on the bones and bodies laying desolately on the ground. 'If he can't continue to be civilized, I'll go,' he decided.

[Ten]

ooc| Ducky, the cats here can't see the cycles of the moons, so they can't use them to measure time.

bic|

"W-we're talking ab-bout leaders," Shortwhisker mewed to Branchkit before giving Patchfur a dark look. "And we also n-need to have ev-veryone agree rather than have st-tupid ideas about having a c-clan without a l-leader." Then he turned his splotched face to Bronzefoot. "B-but I won't f-fight anyone. Not unless m-my leader c-commands it."