Ok, so I have already done the prologue (please read first) on my own version of Into the Wild and now its time for Chapter One! Apologies.
As he stalked through the forest, Rusty ignored glowing eyes in the bushes. He was imagining it, he told himself. He had to keep focus. He had to catch this one. As he creeped through the undergrowth, he watched the small mouse scuttling about, completely unaware of him.
He leaped, but at the same time the wind changed and the mouse picked up his scent. Rusty landed in the puwang where it had been moments before. Frustrated, he gave chase. He zigzagged in and out of the trees but that was it—the mouse was gone. He gave a grunt. He could never catch a mouse! What kind of cat couldn’t catch a mouse?
Suddenly a loud rustling came from the bushes behind him. He whipped around, but instead of seeing bushes, he saw walls. He was back in his nest, ligtas with his Twolegs. The eldest Twoleg kit noticed him jump awake and came gracefully over, patting him gently and purring. Rusty butted its forepaw affectionately.
When the Twoleg kit stalked off, Rusty got up and pushed his way out of the nest. The moon was just rising in the sky—it would be a full moon soon, he told himself. His father, Jake, had often told him about the bilog of the moon. He had been adventurous, and that was where Rusty got it from. Rusty’s mother, Nutmeg, liked staying in her own nest, where nothing was new, and everything was predictable. Rusty’s sister, Princess, was madami like Nutmeg.
He missed his family, Jake especially. But Jake had gone off with Quince, his first mate, as he realized he didn’t pag-ibig Nutmeg. Rusty told himself he would never do that: take a mate that he didn’t love. If he were to take a mate, it would be a beautiful she-cat who he loved dearly. But that was a while ago. At six moons old, he could hardly be classed as out of kithood.
He and Princess had been ibingiay off to different homes, like their other brother and sisters. Rusty liked his Twolegs; they were good to him.
“Hi, Rusty!” panted a familiar voice. Rusty looked up to see his best friend, Smudge, jumping off the fence which separated their two gardens. “Want to go a walk?”
Rusty’s puso jumped. “Sure. How about going in the woods?”
Smudge stared. “You’re joking, aren’t you, Rusty? We can’t go in the woods—we’ll die.”
“No we won’t,” Rusty insisted. “We can hunt.”
“Rusty… bad Pusa are in there, vicious ones at that. They eat animals, live, and live rough. They don’t take well to visitors.”
A wave of fear rushed over Rusty, but he pushed it away. How could that be?
“You sinabi you wanted to go a walk, Smudge. I’ll go anyway. Are you coming, or aren’t you?” Rusty saw Smudge’s hesitation. “It won’t be that bad. We won’t get caught, I promise. We’ll just do a bit of hunting. That’ll be it.”
Smudge nodded. “But only because you can’t go in there alone.”
Rusty almost jumped for joy. “Great! Come on, then.”
Rusty jumped onto his fence and leaped onto the ground on the other side, leaving his garden behind him. After what Smudge had said, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see it again, but he tried to remain positive, for his friend.
Smudge followed reluctantly and stayed close. Rusty padded amongst the trees, looking around him. He could smell Smudge’s fear-scent.
He spied a mouse out of the corner of his eye and flicked his friend’s mouth with his tail, an order for silence. He began creeping forward, making the least amount of noise he could. When he pounced, the wind changed, just like in his dream and he was left pouncing on the root of a tree.
“Hard luck,” Smudge commented. “You act like you’ve done it already.”
“Just in dreams,” Rusty dismissed.
Suddenly he could hear the bushes rustling behind him, but when he whipped around he wasn’t in his nest—he was still there, in the forest. It was real.
The direction changed, the bushes on the other side started rustling, and they got noisier and whatever it was quickened its pace. Smudge started breathing faster and Rusty’s eyes flashed from side to side, not sure where it was coming from.
Suddenly pain surged through him as a weight pushed him down and claws slashed his back. He felt blood leaving his body, sticking and uncomfortable. The same sharp claws dug down his spine once madami and he yowled in agony. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Smudge staring with disbelief from the shadow of a tree, relief clear in his eyes that Rusty’s attacker hadn’t gone for him first.
Rusty pushed up, trying to throw him off, but he could feel his opponent’s strength and it had a good grip on Rusty. In one moment, he flipped over; surprising his attacker for a second, but a segundo was all he needed. Rusty scrambled up and fled.
“Smudge, come on!” he yelled over his shoulder. When he looked back he gasped in horror. His attacker—a young tom around Rusty’s age with a thick, gray pelt and large muscular shoulders—was cornering Smudge, who was cowering away from him. Smudge’s tale was right!
Realizing he couldn’t leave Smudge there to die, he ran back, knocking the gray tom off his paws in surprise.
“Run!” Rusty hissed to Smudge but Smudge didn’t move. “Run!” Rusty repeated, but still Smudge was frozen. Too shocked to move?
“I’m not leaving you,” Smudge managed to mutter as he stared at the gray tom, who was getting back to his feet. He knocked Rusty over and tore his sharp claws down Rusty’s side. Rusty gasped in pain and horror, scared at what would happen to him. He pushed at the tom’s belly with his hind paws and struggled free.
“Now!” he yelled to Smudge, but the tom’s weight crushed him again and he lay, winded and helpless as he tore his claws down Rusty’s flank. Rusty jumped up, spitting at his opponent. He would finish this. But instead of jumping again, the tom sat down happily and began licking his belly fur, trying to flatten it out.
Rusty considered attacking once more, but decided against it. He remembered the strength and the skill behind that gray fur, and remembered how helpless he had felt. And it seemed the tom wasn’t going to attack again.
“Hi,” the tom sinabi happily. “You’re a little far from home, don’t you think?”
Rusty eyed him suspiciously. Smudge finally emerged from the shadows and stood at Rusty’s side, but he still wore his fear-scent.
“Not that far,” Rusty replied.
“Farther than I am from mine. So what are you doing in my territory? I saw you miss that mouse—that was an easy catch.”
Rusty felt the urge to defend himself—he wasn’t useless, after all. “I’m not used to it. My father taught me.”
The tom tensed. “Your father, did you say? And is he still alive? Is he a kittypet too?”
Rusty was confused. “What do you mean sa pamamagitan ng a kittypet?”
“It’s a cat living with Twolegs, in a Twoleg nest. I know you’re a kittypet, I can smell it on you.”
Rusty sinabi nothing.
“I’m Graypaw, sa pamamagitan ng the way, one of four ThunderClan apprentices. This is my first night out as an apprentice.”
“Rusty,” Rusty managed to mutter.
Smudge still sinabi nothing, and Rusty guessed he was scared of this kitten.
Graypaw tensed for a moment and his eyes went distant. Then he spoke urgently to Rusty and Smudge, “Right, Rusty, what-ever-your-name-is, my Clan leader and my mentor are coming. You have to leave now. If I’m caught talking to you I’ll be in so much trouble.”
Rusty signaled with his tail for Smudge to follow him, but it was too late. The bushes rustled and out stepped an elderly blue reyna with several white hairs around her muzzle. She was followed sa pamamagitan ng a magnificent golden tom that had a sense of pride about him.
“Graypaw,” the reyna spoke. “You attacked bravely. You hold the bravery of your grandfather. I was impressed. I am proud you are an apprentice of ThunderClan.”
Graypaw bowed his head respectively and then looked up at the she-cat again. “He’s no threat to us. He’s just a Nawawala kittypet.”
Rusty thought for a moment Graypaw was saving him but then he remembered Graypaw saying how much trouble he would be in. Was he saving himself, then?
The reyna turned to Rusty. Her gaze flickered back to Graypaw for a moment so short Rusty wasn’t sure if it actually happened or if he was just imagining it.
Graypaw took this as a signal, for he stepped forward. “This is Bluestar, ThunderClan’s leader,” Graypaw said. Rusty saw he was looking at him. Graypaw gestured his tail towards the golden tom. “And that’s Lionheart—my mentor.”
Graypaw gave a quick bow. “He says his name’s Rusty.” He stepped backwards.
“Rusty,” Bluestar pondered. “You fought well—for a kittypet.” She moved her gaze to Smudge. “And you are?”
“Smudge,” he managed to mumble, but the wild Pusa didn’t miss it.
Bluestar didn’t seem to care about Smudge—she turned her gaze back to Rusty. “Rusty,” she repeated. “ThunderClan has never before had so few apprentices. Every cat counts. Our oldest kits won’t be apprentices for many moons to come. Never before would ThunderClan stoop to such levels, but we seem to have no choice. With some training, you could make a fine warrior, Rusty. How would you like to sumali ThunderClan, to live as part of the Clan, and train as the fifth apprentice?”
Rusty was speechless. What did Bluestar think? Did she suspect him to give up his cozy life for the call of the wild? The idea was intriguing.
He hesitated. “Just me, or are you offering the same for Smudge?”
Bluestar didn’t answer. “I understand. I am ashamed I thought you would leave your comfortable life behind, for us.”
As he stalked through the forest, Rusty ignored glowing eyes in the bushes. He was imagining it, he told himself. He had to keep focus. He had to catch this one. As he creeped through the undergrowth, he watched the small mouse scuttling about, completely unaware of him.
He leaped, but at the same time the wind changed and the mouse picked up his scent. Rusty landed in the puwang where it had been moments before. Frustrated, he gave chase. He zigzagged in and out of the trees but that was it—the mouse was gone. He gave a grunt. He could never catch a mouse! What kind of cat couldn’t catch a mouse?
Suddenly a loud rustling came from the bushes behind him. He whipped around, but instead of seeing bushes, he saw walls. He was back in his nest, ligtas with his Twolegs. The eldest Twoleg kit noticed him jump awake and came gracefully over, patting him gently and purring. Rusty butted its forepaw affectionately.
When the Twoleg kit stalked off, Rusty got up and pushed his way out of the nest. The moon was just rising in the sky—it would be a full moon soon, he told himself. His father, Jake, had often told him about the bilog of the moon. He had been adventurous, and that was where Rusty got it from. Rusty’s mother, Nutmeg, liked staying in her own nest, where nothing was new, and everything was predictable. Rusty’s sister, Princess, was madami like Nutmeg.
He missed his family, Jake especially. But Jake had gone off with Quince, his first mate, as he realized he didn’t pag-ibig Nutmeg. Rusty told himself he would never do that: take a mate that he didn’t love. If he were to take a mate, it would be a beautiful she-cat who he loved dearly. But that was a while ago. At six moons old, he could hardly be classed as out of kithood.
He and Princess had been ibingiay off to different homes, like their other brother and sisters. Rusty liked his Twolegs; they were good to him.
“Hi, Rusty!” panted a familiar voice. Rusty looked up to see his best friend, Smudge, jumping off the fence which separated their two gardens. “Want to go a walk?”
Rusty’s puso jumped. “Sure. How about going in the woods?”
Smudge stared. “You’re joking, aren’t you, Rusty? We can’t go in the woods—we’ll die.”
“No we won’t,” Rusty insisted. “We can hunt.”
“Rusty… bad Pusa are in there, vicious ones at that. They eat animals, live, and live rough. They don’t take well to visitors.”
A wave of fear rushed over Rusty, but he pushed it away. How could that be?
“You sinabi you wanted to go a walk, Smudge. I’ll go anyway. Are you coming, or aren’t you?” Rusty saw Smudge’s hesitation. “It won’t be that bad. We won’t get caught, I promise. We’ll just do a bit of hunting. That’ll be it.”
Smudge nodded. “But only because you can’t go in there alone.”
Rusty almost jumped for joy. “Great! Come on, then.”
Rusty jumped onto his fence and leaped onto the ground on the other side, leaving his garden behind him. After what Smudge had said, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see it again, but he tried to remain positive, for his friend.
Smudge followed reluctantly and stayed close. Rusty padded amongst the trees, looking around him. He could smell Smudge’s fear-scent.
He spied a mouse out of the corner of his eye and flicked his friend’s mouth with his tail, an order for silence. He began creeping forward, making the least amount of noise he could. When he pounced, the wind changed, just like in his dream and he was left pouncing on the root of a tree.
“Hard luck,” Smudge commented. “You act like you’ve done it already.”
“Just in dreams,” Rusty dismissed.
Suddenly he could hear the bushes rustling behind him, but when he whipped around he wasn’t in his nest—he was still there, in the forest. It was real.
The direction changed, the bushes on the other side started rustling, and they got noisier and whatever it was quickened its pace. Smudge started breathing faster and Rusty’s eyes flashed from side to side, not sure where it was coming from.
Suddenly pain surged through him as a weight pushed him down and claws slashed his back. He felt blood leaving his body, sticking and uncomfortable. The same sharp claws dug down his spine once madami and he yowled in agony. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Smudge staring with disbelief from the shadow of a tree, relief clear in his eyes that Rusty’s attacker hadn’t gone for him first.
Rusty pushed up, trying to throw him off, but he could feel his opponent’s strength and it had a good grip on Rusty. In one moment, he flipped over; surprising his attacker for a second, but a segundo was all he needed. Rusty scrambled up and fled.
“Smudge, come on!” he yelled over his shoulder. When he looked back he gasped in horror. His attacker—a young tom around Rusty’s age with a thick, gray pelt and large muscular shoulders—was cornering Smudge, who was cowering away from him. Smudge’s tale was right!
Realizing he couldn’t leave Smudge there to die, he ran back, knocking the gray tom off his paws in surprise.
“Run!” Rusty hissed to Smudge but Smudge didn’t move. “Run!” Rusty repeated, but still Smudge was frozen. Too shocked to move?
“I’m not leaving you,” Smudge managed to mutter as he stared at the gray tom, who was getting back to his feet. He knocked Rusty over and tore his sharp claws down Rusty’s side. Rusty gasped in pain and horror, scared at what would happen to him. He pushed at the tom’s belly with his hind paws and struggled free.
“Now!” he yelled to Smudge, but the tom’s weight crushed him again and he lay, winded and helpless as he tore his claws down Rusty’s flank. Rusty jumped up, spitting at his opponent. He would finish this. But instead of jumping again, the tom sat down happily and began licking his belly fur, trying to flatten it out.
Rusty considered attacking once more, but decided against it. He remembered the strength and the skill behind that gray fur, and remembered how helpless he had felt. And it seemed the tom wasn’t going to attack again.
“Hi,” the tom sinabi happily. “You’re a little far from home, don’t you think?”
Rusty eyed him suspiciously. Smudge finally emerged from the shadows and stood at Rusty’s side, but he still wore his fear-scent.
“Not that far,” Rusty replied.
“Farther than I am from mine. So what are you doing in my territory? I saw you miss that mouse—that was an easy catch.”
Rusty felt the urge to defend himself—he wasn’t useless, after all. “I’m not used to it. My father taught me.”
The tom tensed. “Your father, did you say? And is he still alive? Is he a kittypet too?”
Rusty was confused. “What do you mean sa pamamagitan ng a kittypet?”
“It’s a cat living with Twolegs, in a Twoleg nest. I know you’re a kittypet, I can smell it on you.”
Rusty sinabi nothing.
“I’m Graypaw, sa pamamagitan ng the way, one of four ThunderClan apprentices. This is my first night out as an apprentice.”
“Rusty,” Rusty managed to mutter.
Smudge still sinabi nothing, and Rusty guessed he was scared of this kitten.
Graypaw tensed for a moment and his eyes went distant. Then he spoke urgently to Rusty and Smudge, “Right, Rusty, what-ever-your-name-is, my Clan leader and my mentor are coming. You have to leave now. If I’m caught talking to you I’ll be in so much trouble.”
Rusty signaled with his tail for Smudge to follow him, but it was too late. The bushes rustled and out stepped an elderly blue reyna with several white hairs around her muzzle. She was followed sa pamamagitan ng a magnificent golden tom that had a sense of pride about him.
“Graypaw,” the reyna spoke. “You attacked bravely. You hold the bravery of your grandfather. I was impressed. I am proud you are an apprentice of ThunderClan.”
Graypaw bowed his head respectively and then looked up at the she-cat again. “He’s no threat to us. He’s just a Nawawala kittypet.”
Rusty thought for a moment Graypaw was saving him but then he remembered Graypaw saying how much trouble he would be in. Was he saving himself, then?
The reyna turned to Rusty. Her gaze flickered back to Graypaw for a moment so short Rusty wasn’t sure if it actually happened or if he was just imagining it.
Graypaw took this as a signal, for he stepped forward. “This is Bluestar, ThunderClan’s leader,” Graypaw said. Rusty saw he was looking at him. Graypaw gestured his tail towards the golden tom. “And that’s Lionheart—my mentor.”
Graypaw gave a quick bow. “He says his name’s Rusty.” He stepped backwards.
“Rusty,” Bluestar pondered. “You fought well—for a kittypet.” She moved her gaze to Smudge. “And you are?”
“Smudge,” he managed to mumble, but the wild Pusa didn’t miss it.
Bluestar didn’t seem to care about Smudge—she turned her gaze back to Rusty. “Rusty,” she repeated. “ThunderClan has never before had so few apprentices. Every cat counts. Our oldest kits won’t be apprentices for many moons to come. Never before would ThunderClan stoop to such levels, but we seem to have no choice. With some training, you could make a fine warrior, Rusty. How would you like to sumali ThunderClan, to live as part of the Clan, and train as the fifth apprentice?”
Rusty was speechless. What did Bluestar think? Did she suspect him to give up his cozy life for the call of the wild? The idea was intriguing.
He hesitated. “Just me, or are you offering the same for Smudge?”
Bluestar didn’t answer. “I understand. I am ashamed I thought you would leave your comfortable life behind, for us.”
I definetely think that Breezepelt's gonna take Heathertail for his mate. In Sunrise, it says he was standing close to Heathertail at the Gathering and his eyes were like saying (i)She's all mine now(/i). And why he acted mean to Lionblaze in the first 2 books is probably because he was jealous of Lionblaze when he was with Heathertail. I think Breezepelt loved Heathertail since they became apprentices. And I think Heathertail now has feelings and affection toward him. Then, I think he's gonna wait untill she's totally in pag-ibig with him. What do you think?